He doesn't turn his face away from the flashfire as it erupts into existence within the confines of the barrier, but grimaces in a pained way like someone watching a bone reset. It's necessary, it's for the best. Still, what a horrible spectacle to bear witness to. Who has this man left behind, who will mourn his absence--or worse, wonder at it for the rest of their lives, wondering whether they'd been abandoned?

"Are we taking the guard with us?"
"We must..."

"Right," Kit agrees, voice a little hoarse, a little rough. He clears his throat, then jerks his head to the unconscious lump that he's hauled into the corner of the warehouse. "We should get him back to the Gallows. Sure there's a cell there waiting for him." And an interrogation.