Chapter Twenty Seven

  Mouse and Viper

  All of them pressed through the open mouth of the mausoleum, neither side wanting to give the other an inch. But the race soon came to a crawl as the light of the morning shone in the temple. The inside was gaping, with tall, etched walls that came to a dark vault above. They stood upon a great balcony overlooking a chasm deeper than the light could reach. Twin grand staircases flanked either side, snaking down into the pit. But between them – the abyss. Statues, each dozens of feet tall, lined the walls, offering their weapons to the fallen general. And as they gawked at the splendor of the place, the shadows began to swallow them up, as with a grinding and a cracking, the heavy stone door closed once more. And they were plunged into night.

  Nephis held out her hands to cast a spell and bring some light into the room, but before she had spoken more than a word of it, she felt leather gloves close over her hands. She kept quiet. Before long, she could hear Kugo and one of the Black Oak fumbling with their lanterns and flint and iron. With the short strike and burst of light, two dull glows filled the chamber. When the light came back, Nephis realized what Kugo had meant. It was better for them to keep their secrets as long as possible. The Knights did not know what all Nephis could do. In the heat of battle against Rava Murku, the wicked spider, they had seen her cast a spell. But that was surrounded by good life and the rage of battle. For all they knew, she was a wizard and now powerless in the depths of stone and metal.

  The Knights were busy consulting their crude maps and drawings. The words of Marcus rang in her mind. This place was full of traps and hidden things. For all they knew, every path and stairwell was itself a trap, leading to wicked chambers and short deaths. Moss wandered off to gaze up at the mighty statues and dark ceilings, full of carvings of lost gods with dreadful gazes. Nephis couldn’t bear to stare too long. Kugo, in the meanwhile, was examining the stairs. They were made for giants; each step was three feet high with railings as thick as an arm. The balusters were like slender trees or thorns, riddled with little carvings, so that it seemed little worlds might live within them. Every inch with artistry that any nation would struggle to match.

  As Nephis admired the room, she noticed Mouse standing alone at the edge of the precarious balcony. He gazed off into the darkness as if something had caught his eye, a second map hidden away in his hand. Ever watchful, Mouse quickly caught her gaze. And then he beckoned her, twisting his finger towards himself. Nephis looked around, supposing he meant to call Marcus or Lorelei, but seeing no one else nearby, she crept towards him. As if summoned by a bell, Kugo appeared behind her.

  “You are not going anywhere alone with him,” he cautioned.

  Nephis groaned. He was probably right, but she hated to hear it.

  The both of them stood by Mouse, overlooking the pit, nothing between them and oblivion. Mouse looked down again to his map, which was crude and not too detailed, though it was hard to tell with him crouching over it. “Do you see it?” Mouse asked quietly.

  “See what?” Nephis asked, peering off into the darkness.

  “The hidden way,” Mouse answered.

  Nephis squinted her eyes, but seeing nothing, she looked back to find Kugo locked on the rogue. His eyes were fixed.

  Mouse’s expression kept easy, though his eyes darted back and back again to his companions. “A man gets nervous, caught by such a gaze,” he said to Kugo.

  “I don’t trust you,” Kugo answered plainly.

  “And you are good not to,” Mouse replied. “I think I’ve made myself clear about you,” he hissed. “But Marcus insists on bringing you along. He’s taken a shine to all of you. Troublesome. But he is the leader of our expedition, and what he says must be. I do not like kings or princes, but we must have some order.”

  “Hrm,” Kugo grunted. “So, what did you want with Nephis?”

  “Only to show her something interesting,” he replied, “I’m not heartless, you know.”

  “And what is that?” Kugo pressed.

  “I’ve already said, it’s over there,” and Mouse pointed out into the darkness.

  And for a second, Kugo followed his gaze out before the black night. And like a viper, the mouse struck. A dagger glinted from beneath his sleeves, and he plunged down his blade, not towards Kugo, but for Nephis’ white neck.

  Kugo threw himself between them, falling into Mouse’s trap. Mouse shifted and kicked out Kugo’s leg, and with his arm, pushed the unsteady monk over the ledge. Nephis was about to cry out, when Mouse bounded a step towards her, wrapping his hand around her mouth so that she might not scream or cast a spell, and knocked her into the abyss.

  The tomb raced passed them, bridges and statues and platforms all a blur as they plummeted, disappearing as they fell out of Kugo’s sputtering lantern light. “Ah!” Mouse cried out a hundred feet away, his voice obscured by rushing air, “They’ve fallen in! Great heaven, they’ve fallen in!”

  Nephis shut her eyes, not wanting to know when her last moment would come, praying that she might survive by some miracle. When all of the sudden, she felt strong, rough arms wrap around her. She peeked open her eyes to see Moss, holding her and reaching out an arm towards Kugo. He faced the abyss headfirst, as straight as a needle while he drew Kugo in to his great chest.

  Moss said something, but through the rushing wind, she could not hear him. Suddenly: darkness and suffocation. All at once, the light went out with a crash and a rush of cold. She could not see a thing. And when she went to scream, she found she could not breathe at all. Cold, foul-tasting air rushed into her mouth. She tried again to breathe, but it was all worse. She was going to die, she knew it, but she could hardly focus. Perhaps she had already died, perhaps this was Hell. And then someone, Moss, lifted her up and out of that place. She was weighed down, twice as heavy, and her body ached. She could breathe again and began to cough uncontrollably. Water spat from her. Water, a thousand years old, was beat from her lungs. Her hands pressed against hard, freezing stone. She was cold and trembling, she could not see a thing, but it didn’t matter, for she was alive.

  “Nephis!” Kugo called through strained gasps. Something hard and wooden clattered on the stone floor. “Are you alive?” he called.

  “Yes,” Nephis replied, before falling into a coughing fit.

  “Light! Make a light!” Kugo called back.

  She tried once to cast a spell, but her coughing would not allow it. She tried again and failed. She tried once more and could hardly get out a word. Fine. A canon it would be then. But even still, it was impossible to keep her thoughts straight in the darkness. Her mind was spiraling with a thousand primal worries. And somewhere in that trouble, she pressed herself back to those horrid days with her tutor, before she could cast a spell or canon, where she had been plunged into the darkness and told to feel things she could not touch and see things she could not see. Much like now, she had tripped and bruised herself, gotten tangled in wire and rope, and been stuck with no way out. But this time, she was not totally alone.

  She steadied herself as much as she could and strained her ears and eyes and every sense. Moss was behind her, and Kugo to her left. A deep pool of water was only a few inches away. It swayed. For a moment she felt sway and her stomach was sick, like she was on the sea. But with the swaying, the room felt like a heart. The center of a great place, where two tunnels met. One on either end of the room. And then, Nephis’ hairs stood on end. Something was watching her. Something was watching them.

  “I am.”

  She got a hold of herself, and a bright flame appeared in her hands. Nephis darted her eyes to where she had felt the lurker, but nothing was there. Like a sixth sense in a crowd, she had felt it, but there was nothing there. Perhaps it was her nerves. She was never the best at Plíris’ exercises. Perhaps nothing really was there. But through all her excuses and rationalizations, she could not shake the cold, piercing worry.

  “Damn that Mouse!” Kugo cried. “I’ll kill you!” he bellowed up the tomb, his voice bouncing through the empty tunnels. But they heard no response.

  They could hear nothing at all. Nothing but the dripping of water from their clothes and rapid patter of their own heartbeats. She looked up. The light of her flame did not reach to the top, and she doubted anyone looking down would see more than a pinprick at best. The bottom of the tomb was as beautiful and ornate as the top. A great and mighty statue looked down on them as they sat, damp as stowaway rats in the bilge, loitering in the land of their betters.

  “Are you alright?” Moss asked.

  “I am alive,” Nephis replied. “Thank you,” she added. She had little doubt that her and Kugo would be broken and drowning had Moss not taken the brunt of the fall. “Are you alright?” she asked.

  “I am,” he answered as surely as ever.

  “Good,” she said fondly and smiled..

  Her brief moment of relief was interrupted by Kugo’s cursing. He threw down his lantern on the ground. It landed with a shrill, reverberating clang, bumping against his wooden mask, whose cloth was soaked through. The glass was shattered upon the water, and all of its shimmering oil spilled out, floating on the black pool like a pale corpse. Nephis thought to pick herself up, supposing that if she stretched her legs, some of her nerves might leave her. But the moment she stood up, a wave of exhaustion slammed into her. The dread of nearly dying fell upon her brow like an iron crown cutting into her, her skin tingled and dulled as if the blood had been drained from her. She collapsed to her knees, the ball of fire sputtering in and out. It was all she could do to lie upon the cold stone and keep it alive.

  “You’re not alright,” Moss chastised, pulling her up. He tried to heal her wounds, but there was no wound to heal, aside from bruising, which remained.

  “I’m fine, I just need to sit a moment,” she said with a huff. But soon the flame she held began to sputter out.

  And once again, they were engulfed in darkness.

  “Damn it, Nephis!” Kugo bellowed at her. “Keep it up!”

  The stillborn flame flickered for a moment before disappearing. “I’m trying,” she said. Something about Kugo seemed too furious, reminding her of when they had the orc so many months ago. She was too weak to say anything else. Her whole body ached, and the pain only grew worse with time as her chest and arms and every part came to realize what had been done to them. She felt like she had been beat into the dirt by a stampede of wild beasts. The worst part of it was her teeth. Each tooth ached on its own. She had rarely thought about her teeth as individuals, but now she felt every individual molar and canine wrapped in a throbbing, aching pain. She wished she could rip them out, just so the pain would stop. She even found her hand creeping into her mouth and pressing and for a moment it felt kind because the pain was different and the pressure was lightened. But only for a moment. The pressure built and built inside her mouth until she was sure something was terribly wrong with her, that her mouth was infected. It would kill her, Nephis was sure of it. And in the depths of her mind, beyond all reasoning and right thought, she knew she had to rip them out. And there was nothing but the pain and the darkness.

  “It’s only going to get worse for a while,” Kugo’s voice came from nowhere. “It will grow and grow until it finally goes away. So don’t bother whimpering.”

  “That’s mean, Kugo,” Moss shamed him.

  “Rest until you can move again, and then we’ll go,” Kugo brushed off the comment. “We don’t have much time to waste.”

  And for a while they waited in the darkness, like dead men awaiting the final judgment. Nephis curled up against Moss, holding her heavy arms to her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible. That chill still ran up her neck. Something gnawed at the back of her mind, something cried out for her to see, something was watching them. But while it had the chance, it did not approach, instead it merely tapped at the back of the sorceress’ skull. Watching. Watching. Watching And she waited to see its pale grin in the darkness, but she never did.

  After a while, the exhaustion left her, and she could stand again. She summoned forth the flame, and they crept forward. Kugo’s face shone in the firelight, each angry crease in his face casting ichorous shadow upon him. Though he had taken off his mask, the expression was the same. “I’m going to wring his neck,” he muttered to no one in particular. And so in the shadows they stewed.

  The depths of the tomb were much like the entrance, only tighter, narrow halls wound through the earth, scenes of revelry etched into the walls, or painted upon the base. Even now, the color remained as it once was. Reds as bright as roses, blues as true as lapis, each piece was a wonder unto itself. But for all the prettiness, none of them could bear to look upon them for too long, for there was something dreadful about them. No joy was caught in the eyes of those who danced, whether man or elf; none smiled with love, none wept. In their eyes was a cold glint, in their smiles was satisfaction, and none wept. Indeed, all seemed pleased. And were this a lesser artist, Nephis might have forgiven them. But each was masterfully rendered with glowing skin, each person was unique and nearly true, as if captured upon the stone.

  “I cannot keep the flame lit forever,” Nephis warned, “This cannon won’t kill me, but it’s a terrible glutton.”

  “Keep going,” Kugo said, “We need to find Mouse.”

  “Not the relic?” asked Moss.

  Kugo was silent. “That’s right,” he eventually answered. His mind was far away and long ago. Snow and splinters stuck in his mind. A night that must never be repeated.

  After a while of wandering, pressing through veins, looking for a way up and out, they came into a large and open chamber. Nephis and Moss gazed in wonder, for it was beautiful. Once it had been a garden, though now the pools were dry and life long gone. But the stone remained, jasper and sandstone visions of a thousand years ago. Tall statues of elven maidens served as pillars, and stone warriors were scattered about the room, each bearing a blade of granite and each arrayed in strange and foreign armor that seemed more ornate than practical, flowing hair and thread caught in place forever. But most striking was a great mural that overlooked the entire chamber.

  “Ta eardas te ic nam for t?re Hwita Ceastre”

  These words were inscribed above it. “The lands I took for the White City” or for “Kor” in their native tongue. Nephis mouthed the words. And below it, the mural. It was a map, beautifully rendered as all the paintings were. And upon it seemed every city upon the world. But stranger than what was upon it was what was not. There was no forest Ceroil, with its terrible limbs and mighty trunks. There was no desert to their east, bound for thirst. There were a few hills, and those that were there seemed gentle and kind. And upon the map were men and elves and dwarves, all locked in battle with one another. But nowhere were there goblins, or orcs, or terrible creatures.

  Ic drēoge tā ?lfas mid mīnum bōtum.

  Ic cēos tā dweorgas mid mīnum sweorde.

  Ic wyrc men to cneowian.

  For t?m Dryhten t?s Steorran bebēode mē and bletsigee mē.

  I crush the elves with my boots.

  I cut the dwarves with my sword.

  I make men kneel.

  For the Lord of the Star commands me and blesses me.

  Kugo walked past them. “Let’s go,” he growled.

  “Wait!” Nephis cried, “I have never seen a map like this before.”

  “We don’t have time to wait,” Kugo said and patted her forward as he walked into the dark.

  Reluctantly, Nephis and Moss hurried after him.

  They wound through tunnels, as if trapped along a web or pushed through guts or veins, seeing not a stair or a ladder. Nephis could feel goosebumps forming on her skin, the cold air seeping through her robes. The scent of stale water and dust choked the veins. It seemed that in the base of the tomb, there was no treasure or relic or any way out. And yet they continued, keeping eyes peeled for hidden exits or chambers. Each tunnel was the same and different, painted figures in revelry guiding the pilgrim deeper within, but each figure was different and alive. Nephis felt like she was being wound around a spool, never truly making any progress. And each moment they walked, Nephis felt her blood being sapped by the spell. Eventually, they would have to stop and eat. But eat what? They all pushed such thoughts from their minds and walked forward, their hearts beating in their minds to each footstep. Keeping their pace. It was the only sound they could hear.

  Crack. A sound ripped through the tunnels, from beneath Kugo’s foot. He looked down to see a bone upon the floor. It was an arm bone, though something was wrong about it. It was dimpled and scratched, seeming chewed through and cracked open. Yet all around it there was no other bone, nor was there flesh or hair or any part. And then – gnawing. Something skittered and scratched from around a corner.

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  Kugo crept forward and then roared in anger as he charged forward towards a black figure. It howled and gargled in a high and sour voice before it was silenced by wrath and steel. Nephis and Moss turned to the corner to see Kugo eyeing the creature, a long black robe of fur, a pale and nasty snout, and beady black eyes that bulged from its skull.

  “A rat!” Moss said.

  Indeed it was, its long, fleshy tail spilled on the ground even as it was held so high. It was a rat the size of a man. And still caught in its little grip were the remains of a victim. The chewed on skeleton of a man wearing a long and simple black robe. Something about it was familiar to Nephis, seeming like the same sort the Sons of Barthus wore. But whoever this was must have been lost long ago, as there was nothing but bone. But so rarely did they travel alone.

  Kugo wiped his blade free of blood. “If there’s a body here, we’re sure to be near an exit.”

  “And nearer to more rats?” Nephis nervously pressed. “And should they be so large?”

  “Yes,” he answered tersely. “They likely keep their hunting grounds where people are found. I can’t imagine the prey is easy to come by down below, so there probably aren’t many of them. This one was just unlucky,” he said as he pulled the man’s leg free of the rat’s paws. “As for their size . . . there are stranger things in the world.”

  “Rats hunt in packs,” Moss said as a matter of fact.

  “They do,” Kugo replied as he continued forward, “See how easy this one fell. Two or three should be no trouble. Let’s go, it will be good practice.”

  And they continued forward, but as long as they walked, it seemed they could not find a way out. There was only the ever-twisting tunnels of stone and the cruel faces upon them. Indeed, Nephis began to grow weary; the pain of the impact was lessened and muted by the sapping of her spirit. And it was upon this that her mind was stuck, a cold sweat began to bead upon her brow, as moment by moment the fire ate her essence.

  It was in this focus that Nephis did not notice something. Nor, in his anger, did Kugo. No longer did they hear their heart beat in their heads. It was as silent as a walk through the woods. It was only upon seeing the light catch strangely on the stone that Nephis realized anything was wrong. Her whole body stuck on end, as if she had been plunged into ice. The floor, the ceiling, the walls, all of it was marred by scratches. Scars and whittles and pocks covered the tunnel and caught the light.

  “Kugo,” Nephis whispered. “Look at the walls.” She ran a hand along them and felt the depths of the grooves as her fingers slipped along the gaps.

  Kugo did not seem to notice her and only kept pressing further.

  “Kugo!” she hissed again.

  He did not notice her.

  Moss placed a hand on his shoulder, anchoring him in place.

  “What!?” he snapped.

  “The walls,” Moss said.

  And for a moment, Kugo’s angry expression staggered. He tore his shoulder free. “Keep moving. We haven’t found a way up yet.”

  And so they came to the end of the hall. A path lay to their right and to their left. One was beset by more scratches and decay than the other. Their eyes leered to one side and then the other. Kugo took the more wretched path. For, as he explained, “They will build their nest near the food.”

  Lurking in the dark, they saw a rat, which Kugo quickly slew. And then another, which he cut down. And then two with little trouble, though it had begun to take a toll on him, huffing and puffing for the air that was thin so far below. “Always in my way,” he muttered.

  At last, they came to a path so terrible that its walls and murals were unrecognizable. The way before had collapsed in, surely, as it was a great pool of darkness. Beside it was a branch heading some unknown way. But lying at the end of the path, before the great pool of darkness, was another rat. Sitting along, its ugly face turned down to some meal it had scrounged, chittering to itself in glee. They might have been able to take the path to the right, were they quiet.

  Kugo put a heavy hand on the hilt of his sword.

  “Kugo,” Nephis warned in a nearly silent whisper. “Perhaps some tact.”

  He ignored her and rushed the beast with a guttural “HRAAH!” Blood on the snow flickered in his memories.

  It squealed and screamed, gargling as Kugo stuck the knife deeper into its gaunt belly. Eventually, it fell silent. But as it did, the dark, collapsed wall was alight with the glitter and gleam of round, beady eyes. It was not a collapsed wall. But a hole.

  They ran down the unknown path. And behind them was a river of matted black fur and gnashing rat teeth. They screamed and howled, little paws beating against the stone, tearing at it. Hungry mouths agape. Skeletons bound around them in black cloaks, like fell riders twisted and stuck between their limbs. The party sprinted, Kugo and Moss outpacing Nephis by a wide way. Here, there were no more turns; it seemed, only one long tunnel. They ran and ran, the rats cackling and chittering at their heels, desperate for another meal. Blood! Blood in the water!

  Their breath ran thin, and their legs began to fail them. But they must be pushed further. Nephis legs screamed at her to stop, begging her to slow for a moment. But she could not, lest she be a white pendent round the neck of a rat. And then, dread of dread, Nephis felt her foot slip. She crashed upon the floor and watched in horror as the rats dove upon her. Indeed, the tunnel was full of them. Rats upon rats, clawing, biting, tearing at one another for the chance to eat her. But right as she might have been eaten, a great wooden hand snagged her arm and pulled her up and forward.

  Yet they ran until time stretched beyond reason, minutes became hours, and whether it was in their minds or in the stars, it did not matter. And the tunnel had not yet ended. It had not shifted. It had not bent or turned or twisted. Only forward. Forever.

  And then – stairs.

  Dear Heaven, stairs! They turned up and around the spiral way. Twisting up the corkscrew, nearly clawing their way up. But here too were the scratches. And here followed the rats. They plunged in behind them like rising water. Scrambling atop one another to squeeze in for a bite. “Go! Go! Go!” Kugo screamed. And then he slammed into a wall. He stepped back, engulfed by dread. They were trapped. The Knights had said the place was trapped. And they were caught between starving vermin and a false staircase made of single, mocking tiles.

  “Move!” Nephis shrieked. And when no one did, she ceased thinking of herself and the canon. And the room was plunged into nothing but darkness and the skittering of rats to gnaw upon sinew.

  “The chaff is burned, and in the unworthy are separated from the holy, and so men become gold.”

  Fire tore across the floor and walls, as if oil had been spread across them. The room was bathed in the flame. Rats howled in pain as their fur was caught alight, burning and boiling. Smoke rose to the ceiling, suffocating them. It smelled of rot and decay and cooking meat.

  “Move!” demanded Moss.

  And Kugo was about to damn them. To tell them that there was no way forward. But then, in the light of the spell, he saw blood upon the floor and the smoke seeping up into the clean ceiling. And he remembered that this place was trapped. He stood upon a trap that led upwards. If he strained his ears, he could hear something beyond the scratching and the ticking and chanting. The ticking! Something clicked and stuttered. Kugo jumped upon the blood floor, pounding his feet down on the sturdy stone tile. But the tile did give some. It did press down.

  “Moss!” he demanded, “Get over here!”

  And Kugo looked back to see Nephis with shaking arms out before her, a wall of flame at her hands. And rats leaping through it, only for Moss to kick them back in. Moss had not a moment to leave; should he leave, the rats would get Nephis and then Kugo. He pressed towards them, a blade in each hand, and began to hack at the beasts. “Moss!” he shouted. “There is a tile, press on it until it comes free.”

  Moss nodded and they traded places, slipping past one another like serpents. Moss crept back to the false stairwell to see what Kugo had. A thin tunnel with a wall. But he did as he was told and began to step on the tile. Moss felt it give way and stepped harder upon it, but it would not give way. He was ready to give up on it when he could hear the frantic breathing and fear of Kugo and Nephis. And so he beat at it and jumped upon it, over and over again, until at last. Click! It stepped down. And was pulled up to see the ceiling fold open like a trap door and towards a wall of rusted, iron spikes.

  Much like the white tower in the Rose Wood, he was plunged into a great and open chamber, full of stone columns and gear heads twisting, locking, and spinning. His hard head plunged into the spikes, which did little to him, and he was brought down once more to the earth as the trap reset.

  “I went up,” Moss said plainly.

  Kugo and Nephis were busy fighting.

  “The floor went up!” he pressed again.

  Kugo looked back at him, his face wild with fear and exhaustion. He grabbed Nephis by the collar of her robe and stuffed all three of them onto the tile as the lights went out. In the black night, they heard the rats rushing towards them. And Kugo shrank for a moment, before hearing Moss’ calm and deep voice say, “Hide.” Click!

  They were rocketed up into the darkness and into the spikes, which were stopped by Moss’ thick, wooden skull. The great machine whirred and whined as it tried to press further. This did not stop the rats, which scurried up the wall, up each other, and as the trap began to descend once more, upon the heels of the three of them. In blind trust, they stepped off to find they stood upon a platform of stone.

  “Nephis, light!” Kugo bellowed.

  A weary, sweating, wheezing Nephis held out shaking hands and brought forth a ball of flame. The illuminated chamber was huge and full of long cliffs. But the smoke traveled up, tracing along gears and axles and strange machines. As did the rats. And so, without worry or thinking, they began to climb. Kugo hurled Nephis upon Moss’ back, her only purpose now to light the way.

  The vermin poured out of the hole, some being smashed upon the spikes, others avoiding it, spilling over the hole like crimson and black foam to a mug. Kugo and Moss scaled up the axle, trying not to be shaken off by its ever-turning. Until at last they came to the highest it would go. Above them, not more than twenty feet, was another way up, another spinning pillar. “Damn!” Kugo cried as he tried to reach. The rats were coming. And then, an idea struck him. From their bag, he pulled the silver rope and loosely knotted the end of it before throwing it up. It fell. The rats scurried towards them. Once again, he twirled it and hurled it up. Just short. The rats raked at his boots, snagging at the leather, pulling at the threads. Kugo kicked them back, pressing into their snouts until they let up for half a moment. Once mor,e he spun the rope threw it up, screaming, nearly tearing his arm. This time it wrapped tightly around a spinning axle. And it began to wind the rope. “Grab hold!” he commanded. And Moss did so.

  They were lifted up the way as the rope was turned around and around, spinning like a thread to a spool. Kugo scurried onto a flat bit of machine that housed parts beneath. The rats could not reach them from here. He stuck out his tongue to mock them, but watched as they scurried off into the darkness. No doubt they knew another way up. There was not a moment to lose.

  Kugo squinted up into the darkness. And in the shadows, he was sure he saw more movement, where a panel opened into darkness. It must have been another trap. Were it not, they were doomed. Kugo said goodbye to the faithful, silver rope. And so up they crawled and scaled the machine. Ticking and the grinding of stone filled up their ears, regular and steady as the stars. At the top, through the light of Nephis’ weak fire, he could see the trap shooting up and into a chamber, over and over again. Kugo took Nephis, and Moss crawled up into the gap, pressing upon it until it broke. As Kugo pulled himself up and over, his hand slid across the floor, nearly sending him back in. Blood lay in pools upon the floor. It was fresh and led further down the hall. He looked back to see that the trap had been yet more spikes, glistening with crimson life.

  Kugo barreled down the hall, Nephis still on his back.

  "Slow down!" she told him. "I'm going to fall!"

  If he heard her, he did not care.

  The tunnel opened into the grand central cavity, where bridges strung across the edges like webbing. They must have been halfway down the pit. Kugo rushed across the stone bridge, as elegant and beautiful as the rest, hounding after a trail of blood that led into the long night. He might have thrown himself into trap and trail had they not heard the pattering of feet below them. Another bridge lay beneath them, and along it grew the shake of metal armor. Mouse and Marcus, with Lorelei upon his back, blood trickling down her cracked greaves, ran across the way, engulfed in small lantern light.

  Upon seeing them, blood on the snow, fire on the mountain, ice and fire stung Kugo's memories. And his cup overflowed with wrath. He leapt from the stones down belowing, throwing Nephis from him. He ran as soon as he landed. Nephis skidded across the stones, nearly slipping off the edge, hanging onto the rocks by her fingernails. She scrambled and scratched at the stone, but had not the strength to pull herself up.

  Out of the darkness and into their small bubble, burst a terrible thing. "An orc!" was all Marcus could think. It rushed passed him and tackled Mouse to the ground, holding a thin blade to his throat. "No more!" the blue orc spat, gnashing worn tusks at him.

  "Kugo!" Nephis yelled. "Don't hurt them! Only Lorelei can open the way!"

  A great creature, Moss, jumped down onto the bridge and pulled Nephis to safety.

  Was this really Kugo? Marcus wondered to himself as he ran to rescue his friend. The witch girl prepared to cast a spell, for what Marcus did not know, Kugo prepared to slay Mouse. He ran, risking imolation to stop the orc. When all of the sudden everyone stopped. Nephis, Moss, and even Kugo were frozen by a sound. Skittering, rushing, clawing, squealing. The three leapt to their feet and ran.

  “Why are you running?” Marcus demanded, calling into the darkness.

  And then they saw the wave of black, gleaming fur. And they ran too.

  The six of them barreled down the dark tomb, traps clicking and rushing nearly cutting them as they went. Something struck Nephis and then another, but she did not stop. The traps were old and rusting, few even triggered. But they did not mind, for there was only them and the rats.

  At the far end, Nephis saw a most beautiful door. Polished oak and enchanted carvings of a man and his love embracing. She ran for it, leaving all else behind. The door was heavy, but she pulled it open with all her might. With a low groan, it came to and revealed the chamber within. Behind her, she could hear the sounds of rats being cut down and slaughtered by repeating traps. Nephis looked around, trying to find a place to hide or to secure. But instead, her eyes fell upon the stone graves. The visage of the conqueror was inlaid upon the stone gisant. He had a stern and handsome face, with eyes closed in quiet slumber. A statue’s arm was outstretched to a woman lying encased beside him. And between their hands was a pendant. Gold and silver shone in the firelight, and in its heart was a great, red gemstone, glittering brilliantly. Gingerly, she plucked it from the tomb, half expecting to be cursed for it. But nothing came from the stone.

  The wooden door groaned as it opened behind Nephis. With a jump, she turned to see Mouse, haggard and torn, slipping in. He shut the door behind him, with a sharp, cold Click! His eyes were dull and terrible. He stalked towards her, his head down as he drew a long dagger from beneath his cloak. Nephis stumbled back. “I got the relic first!” she cried, “It’s ours! Remember that?” She didn’t even know why she said it; it wouldn’t make a difference.

  “I will take no more part in foolish games,” Mouse said with blood-tinged words. And then he charged her, his blade glinting red in the light of Nephis’ flame.

  Nephis summoned fiery darts, plunging the room once more into darkness, but in the flashes of light they brought, she could see him flickering closer to her. Whether any hit him or not, she did not know. But if he was, it didn’t stop him. He was upon her, she could feel it like a cold glare. She stepped away once more, bringing her dagger to her chest. With a sharp clang, it was knocked out of her hand. Her back slammed against the hard wall of the tomb. In a moment, she breathed in through her teeth, and a gout of fire lit the room in terrible, brilliant light as it left her. Mouse tumbled to the ground, his clothes crackling with a low flame. The room was cast in red light. Like a dog, he scrambled to his feet, not even stopping to put out the flame, and rushed her, his dagger out before him like a spearhead.

  Though her throat felt shredded by claws and daggers, she let out another gout of dragon’s fire, scorching the tombs and floor in black ash. But Mouse avoided this too, jumping back and away. He would not be stopped. Nephis could feel the light leaving her eyes, her knees giving way, as if she had been drained of all blood. And an idea struck her. Blood indeed. She scrambled to bring out her bloodstone from her purse, still warm to the touch, and slipped it into her mouth.

  Mouse tackled her, slamming her to the ground. One hand wrapped around her throat, while the other lifted his dagger high. “No more magic!” he spat.

  She wriggled the stone between her lips, and with little breath and blurring vision, she sucked in as much as she could and exhaled.

  Mouse howled in pain, screaming bloody murder. “GAAA!” He gripped the side of his face.

  Nephis could not see it, but the half the flames had not touched were red and blistered already. What he covered must have been horrible, indeed. She might have stood up to run, but she did not have the energy to do more than meekly lift a hand. Then the wooden doors burst open and lantern light spilled into the room. And just as soon, they were shut to the sound of a flood of rats shrieking and tearing at the door.

  The party and the Knights looked upon the aftermath dumb dumbfounded. Nephis with a dozen shallow cuts upon her robes and face, a bruised neck, and the relic in her hand. Mouse damaged beyond repair, the dagger still in his hand. Now in his snarling mask, Kugo did not say a word as he drew close to the cowering Mouse, his thin blade raised high.

  “Kugo, no,” Nephis said in a raspy whisper. But he refused to hear her. And so with a shaky hand, she took the bloodstone in between her fingers and chanted a spell with all her might.

  “Like smoke reveals a hidden fire, so do your hands reveal your heart. Nothing is hidden from the heavens.”

  A thick, black smoke billowed from the stone with more force than Nephis could have ever brought forth, and cast Kugo and Moss into blinding darkness. Kugo bellowed curses as Moss and Marcus rushed in, leaving Lorelei on the floor. Each of them took hold of their own and dragged them out into the light, Kugo flailing and Mouse barely able to control his breathing.

  “Let me go, Moss!” Kugo shrieked. “It’s right! It’s right! He tried to kill us, I am right! Don’t you hate him?!”

  “Kugo,” Nephis pushed the thin, jagged voice from her torn throat. “Only Lorelei knows the spell . . . to get us out. I can’t-” she tried to push out the last words, “say it,” but her body gave in.

  Marcus looked at the mess of it all. What a wicked place it was. But what had happened was undeniable. He bit his fingers. “A winner!” he shakily said, “A winner it seems is you three! The relic is yours.” The rats pounded at the door behind him. And with that, Nephis drifted into the black night once more.

  Those remaining cracked open the wooden doors and one by one picked the rats off. It was grueling, miserable work. By the end of it, the floor was soaked with them. But eventually, they let up and ran back into the darkness. Moss could see Kugo eyeing Mouse, even now, as they were preparing the long march back up and out of the tomb. And as Marcus looked over his two wounded companions, his eyes darting between them, it would have been so easy. Moss could tell that’s what Kugo was thinking, he was sure of it. And so, he scooped up the sleeping Nephis and set her in Kugo’s arms. “You hold her,” Moss suggested without letting him protest. And Mouse gently took the blonde Lorelei in his arms and nodded to Marcus, who nodded back and took up the last of them. Kugo looked down at Nephis, lying limply in his arms, and grumbled, his brow threatening to meet his nose. But he did not let go.

  And slowly and carefully, they crept out of the tomb and wound their way back up the bridges and tunnels and stairs. The dark shadows crept at their visions, capturing them, threatening to release what lay in their cloaks. The walk back up felt as long as their wanderings. Perhaps even longer, for now they were halved, each burdened with a defenseless friend. But it was quiet.

  As they trekked past mourning faces embossed in stone, Lorelei weakly looked up to Moss. And she smiled. A gentle and kind air about her. “You are very kind,” she said in her funny voice. “And very strong.”

  Moss looked down at her. “Thank you,” he simply answered. “You are very light – Nephis is lighter, though.”

  Lorelei laughed gently before wincing in pain.

  Moss looked down to see her leg bandaged up. Carefully, he put his hand upon her calf and stitched her wounds back together. She looked on in awe.

  “You are truly wonderful,” she gasped and moved her foot from place to place.

  “Thank you,” he simply answered.

  “You should join us,” Lorelei said, her voice like clear bells. “I know your friends do not wish to, but I am certain they would follow you.”

  “Hmm,” Moss hummed, “I will go where Nephis goes,” he finally answered.

  “Is that your choice?” she asked.

  “I think so,” he answered.

  “A pity,” she sighed and set her head down in his arms.

  Eventually, they returned to the great and dark door of the tomb. Lorelei, trembling, stood up on her feet and presented herself and the scroll to the door. With a head held high, she spoke the words to open the door in a sweet and quiet voice.

  “Open your arms to me, O’ Lover. Let me pull you from your slumber to walk the lands you carved.”

  They all stumbled into the grass, into the light of the setting sun, and sat in the open air for a while, not daring to say a word. By the time Kugo set Nephis down in the back of the cart, the Knights of the Black Oak had already fled upon their horses, not once having the chance to study it as was their due. And so reluctantly, Kugo hurried Stephan along the road back to the city. Nephis lay unconscious for a long while, the relic Mouse had sought to spill so much blood over, firmly in her grasp.