Amor Vincit Omnia

(Love Conquers All)

Part One: Sun and Shadow

"And all with pearl and ruby glowing
Was the fair palace door
Through which came flowing, flowing, flowing
And sparkling evermore
A troop of Echoes whose sweet duty
Was but to sing
In voices of surpassing beauty
The wit and wisdom of their king

But evil things in robes of sorrow
Assailed the monarch's high estate
(Ah, let us mourn, for never morrow
Shall dawn upon him, desolate!)
And, round his home, the glory
That blushed and bloomed
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed."
- Edgar Allan Poe
"The Haunted Palace"

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Manor House

"A pressure plate," Baal noted. "How clever." He moved his foot and the floor tile, which had sunk an inch or so beneath his weight, slowly raised again. It clicked into place, blending impeccably with the others around it.

"So that's how they rigged the door to close on its own," said Leah. Smiling sheepishly, she added, "I'm kind of glad. I was beginning to think there were ghosts around."

"You would not be wrong to think that," said Ghor. "Your eyes cannot detect them, but they fill these halls. Restless spirits, whose fear and loneliness has turned to anger over long years. They can find no escape and so they wander ceaselessly, searching for some meaning to their existence."

The witch doctor was not looking well – which was no surprise, considering her recent brush with death. Her ebony skin had turned an sickly grayish color, sweat droplets standing out on her brow. She was leaning heavily on Caesar.

Kormac came towards them, shaking his head in discouragement. The Templar had been testing the doors to see if there was any way to budge them. "No good," he announced wearily. "We're locked in."

"That's no cause for concern," said Baal. "We can search for another way out after we kill Maghda."

"Still," Kormac said, "it would have been nice to have the option to leave."

Baal took a few steps away and turned to face the little group. "Listen up, everyone!" he called. When they were all looking at him, he continued, "I'm not going to give you an inspiring speech about how we will be victorious and save the land. In fact, it's more than likely that some, if not all of us will not survive this encounter. We are up against a powerful sorceress who serves an even more powerful demon. So from this point on, only those of you who are willing to die should come with me. If you stay choose to stay here, Saiya can lay down a shield to ensure your relative safety until the threat is neutralized, and you are able to leave."

No one moved. After a few seconds of silence, Kormac said, "I think we're all with you, Baal. We've come this far. There's no sense in turning back now."

The Hunter grinned, baring sharp canines in his familiar bloodthirsty smile. "Good. Let's be off, then. Stick together, everyone, and be on your guard at all times. Don't forget that we are now without any way of healing mortal injuries."

At the end of the ruined hall were two antechambers leading nowhere, and a grand staircase that curved in two separate directions, reminding Saiya unpleasantly of the horns of a goat. The right-hand side was broken off halfway up, rendering the door above inaccessible. Baal led them up the left steps, past an impressive, larger-than-life statue of King Leoric sitting in his throne. The young monk wondered if it had been carved before or after the monarch's descent into madness. The King's likeness was far removed from the skeletal wreck she had faced under the cathedral, yet there was something recognizable in the gaunt, long-jawed face, with deep-set eyes staring out from under beetling brows, and the narrow mouth curved in what was either a righteous frown or an imperious scowl, depending on the viewer's disposition.

At the top of the stairs, a balcony opened into a series of crumbling chambers and hallways. No natural light was able to penetrate the filthy windows shrouded with moth-eaten velvet curtains, and they soon lit their lanterns. The old house was as silent as a graveyard – although, Saiya thought dryly, that metaphor was not exactly appropriate here in Khanduras.

It was not long, however, before things got lively. Baal eased open a door at the end of a long corridor and tensed immediately as the sound of chanting voices flooded through the gap. He handed his lantern off to Saiya and slipped quietly through into the next room. In a few seconds he returned.

"I make it around twenty of them," he murmured. "They're involved in some bloody ritual. We have the high ground, and the element of surprise. Saiya, you take the left flank, and Kormac, the right. The mage and I will provide covering fire from above. Ladies, you'd better sit this one out and watch our backs to make sure that no one comes up from behind."

Not everyone was happy with this plan, but even Caesar was forced to admit that tactically, it was sound. They armed themselves, doused the lanterns, and on Baal's signal, moved in.

The skirmish was brief and brutal. The cultists, caught unawares, fell in droves beneath the Hunter's bolts and Caesar's beams of ice. Some of them tried to rush the stairs, only to meet with Saiya and Kormac, who dealt out death-blows without compunction. The whole thing was over in less time than it had taken to plan out.

"Damn," Baal grunted as he rolled a corpse over with his foot to remove the arrow from its throat. "Maybe we should have left a few of them alive. They might have told us something useful, with the right encouragement."

Saiya was busy wiping the gore from her brass knuckles (a somewhat pointless endeavor, since her hands and feet were liberally splattered) when she heard a low groan from the corner. She called, "Baal! There's one over here that's not quite dead!"

He hastened to her side. "Where?"

She pointed, and he advanced on the shadowed form, his bow drawn. "Put your hands out where I can see them," he snapped. "Play false with me and I'll kill you before you can draw breath."

"W-w-wait!" the figure whimpered. "You – you're not one of her people! You're a - you're a friend, right?"

Baal hesitated, his weapon dropping slightly. "Who's asking?"

"I'm called S-S-Seymour," he stuttered. "I'm a tailor … from Windlam. That horned witch … she took us all. She did … horrible things to us. Ah, Gods!"

"All right," Baal said gently, setting down his bow and kneeling at the man's side. "Easy now, we're going to help you." Turning, he called, "Someone bring me a light, quick!"

Saiya hurriedly rekindled her lantern. Its pale glow illuminated a balding, middle-aged man in a state of advanced emaciation, clad in filthy rags. A foul smell emanated from his body: rot and sickness and evil magic. He was hunched over in an awkward pose, shielding his right side. As Baal moved to touch him he jerked spasmodically. Saiya caught a glimpse of a ravaged limb barely recognizable as an arm. A rush of lightheadedness overcame her and she had to sit down quickly before she fainted. Baal drew in a sharp breath and withdrew his hand.

"How long have you been here, Seymour?" he asked. Saiya, knowing him as she did, could detect pity and distress in his tone, although to ignorant ears his voice would sound quite normal.

"I don't … I don't know anymore," moaned the tailor. "They kept us locked in the darkness … impossible to tell the passage of time. I'm … I'm one of the last …" His face twisted in an expression of pure horror, eyes bugging out and mouth gaping to reveal red-stained and broken teeth.

"Hush," said Baal. "There's no need to speak of it. Try to hold still, now, while we treat your injuries."

Seymour shook his head. "Th-there's nothing you can do for me, friend. I'm … I'm content that my last moment on this earth should be in the company of … decent people." His features convulsed again, this time in agony, and his wasted hand stretched feebly out. Baal caught it and allowed the man to crush his fingers in a desperate grip.

"Can you tell us where to find the witch?" he asked.

"Down below … in the torture chambers. Th-there's an entrance outside the manor. Take care … her followers are legion."

"My thanks," the Hunter said. "She will pay for her sins. I swear it."

Aided by Caesar, Ghor approached the corner where the dying man lay. Baal looked up at her questioningly, saw the intention in her eyes, and stepped back. The sangoma took his place, moving like a woman twice her age. Seymour gazed up at her wonderingly.

"I've never s-s-seen one such as you, Lady," he said.

"I come from the far south," she replied, with a beatific smile. "I am a healer in my native land. If you desire, I can offer you a painless sleep which will ease your passing."

He nodded, eagerness and gratitude mixing in his eyes. Ghor produced one of her feathered darts and dipped it in a vial of black liquid from her medicine bag. Placing the tip of the dart against the pulsing vein in Seymour's neck, she said, "Are you prepared? It will be quick."

"Y-yes. I am ready."

She thrust the point in. A ragged hiss left the tailor's lips, and his body slumped back in the limp repose of death. Ghor bowed her head over the pitiful corpse, raised her hands in what Saiya took to be a gesture of prayer. She intoned a few words in the tongue of her people: "Mei nafsi yako kupata amani katika dunia nyingine, ndugu yangu." *

"Well," said Baal, holstering his crossbow, "we'd better press on."

"What, you're just going to leave him here?" Saiya cried. "We have to cremate him, at least!"

"We don't have the time or the resources-"

"No time to respect the dead?"

"Saiya-"

"His body will not be desecrated," interrupted Ghor. "The venom that I injected him with is very effective against demons and evil spirits. They cannot touch him now."

Baal was already striding briskly towards the magnificent stained-glass panel built into the far wall, where a set of doors opened out onto a stone terrace. Saiya had to reign in her automatic irritation with his dismissive behavior, reminding herself that he was right: they could ill afford a delay. The grief she felt was disproportionate to the circumstances, but somehow the knowledge that Seymour would lie abandoned in this dark and dismal house, where none of his loved ones knew the location of his remains, was almost unbearable to her.

At least he didn't die alone, she thought. Not like Peter. It was small comfort.

The veranda in back of the mansion commanded an impressive view, even at night. The sheer drop of the cliff was a perfect natural fence, and spread out below were the desolate wilds known as the North Front. This was an inhospitable wasteland of deep gullies and knife-like ridges, scrubby brush and boulders. There were no roads, no villages – not even an isolated homestead to break the monotony of rock and wood and dry bare earth.

Baal turned to the left and took a flight of stairs that hugged the side of the manor. They ended at an unassuming door set directly into the foundation, another obvious addition to the structure. Trying the handle, the Hunter found it locked, but a blast of Caesar's ice magic directly into the keyhole, in combination with a forceful shoulder from Kormac, soon fixed that problem.

The place in which they found themselves was utterly abhorrent. It began with a cramped tunnel slanting down into the heart of the hill, but soon the narrow passage widened and the light of their lanterns showed a maze of corridors and ledges, descending into blackness below. The masonry was reddish stone, glistening with damp and pocketed with tiny cells, barely large enough for a man to sit down in, hiding behind rusty grates. Some of them contained skeletons; others more recent corpses. Sconces lined the walls, and Baal traded his lantern for the convenience of a torch so that he could light them and mark the way they had come.

An evil smell, like that of a necrotic wound, pervaded the dank chambers. It clung to the back of Saiya's throat and made her stomach roil. When Saiya felt she could bear it no longer, she asked Baal for the use of some of his scented oil, which she dabbed below her nostrils. Soon she could smell nothing but mint and rose.

Their first demonic encounter occurred when they had been wandering for about twenty minutes. Rounding a corner, they stumbled into the midst of a crowd of ghouls, which had been feasting on some questionable meat. Both parties were surprised, but the adventurers recovered first. Baal, too close to draw his bow, killed two of the monsters with his hunting knife, and Saiya snapped the neck of a third. Then Kormac joined the fray, his leaf-bladed spear making quick work of their foes. Even Leah got her hands bloody, burying her dagger up to the hilt in the eye of a ghoul who tried to corner her.

"We'll have to be more careful in the future," said Baal, wiping his knife off on his pant leg. "That could easily have ended in disaster."

"Is there any reason for this place to be so enormous?" Caesar grumbled as they continued further into the labyrinth. "When Seymour mentioned 'torture chambers' I was envisioning a single room, not an underground city."

"Leoric couldn't possibly have built all this himself," Saiya remarked. "Plus, it looks old – much older than the mansion."

"I'll wager that this was another Gwirin outpost, like the cathedral in Old Tristram," said Leah. "They were the original inhabitants of this valley, uncountable years ago. Uncle Deckard and I happened upon many relics of their culture during out travels."

"They seem to have been a rather brutal people," remarked the wizard, casting a sideways glance at a spiked section of the ceiling which was designed to plummet down on unsuspecting victims with the pull of a lever.

This prompted Leah to monologue for a while about the Gwirin – their practices, their religion, and their daily life. She was very knowledgeable and had a knack for painting vivid pictures with her words, and Saiya enjoyed the distraction that her stories provided from the grim reality around them.

Every now and then, they came across a small pack of demons patrolling the halls. Mostly ghouls, but there were some others as well: hulking grey-skinned abominations with unnaturally long limbs and tentacles in place of mouths. Baal informed them that these were called Thralls, and that once they had a person in their grasp, they would drain his lifeforce through his eyes. Where they gathered, the adventurers usually found a few human corpses, the faces waxy and white and the eye-sockets nothing more than blackened holes.

"If one gets ahold of you, don't look at it," the Hunter warned. "Close your eyes and chant your own name over and over again until someone can help you."

"How long have we been down here?" Saiya wondered aloud as they turned a corner to find yet another lit torch on the wall in front of them: a sign that they had passed this way before.

"I don't know," replied Kormac, "but I'm starving. We never really ate dinner."

"Now isn't really the moment for a break," Baal said severely.

"I have to say, I agree with Kormac," Caesar interjected. "The girls could use a breather."

Baal jabbed an aggressive finger in his direction. "You want to stay behind, mage, be my guest, but I'm not dallying a moment longer than I need to in this hellhole."

"Five minutes would be enough," said Saiya, giving him a pleading look. They could not afford dissension like this in enemy territory. When Baal still hesitated, she added, "I'm starting to feel a bit light-headed."

"All right," he said. "Five minutes."

She smiled gratefully at him, and he responded with a curt nod before taking up a post at a nearby junction of corridors, where he could see easily in all directions. Saiya knew him well enough not to take it personally; he was agitated and ill at ease, and an uncomfortable Baal was apt to be disagreeable.

There was a shortage of clean places to sit, so they ate standing up: dry hunks of bread, an apple each, a few pieces of jerky. It wasn't a satisfying meal by any standards, but it was enough to sustain them a little longer. Afterwards, Baal doled out the last of his flask of brandy. With her stomach sated and a raw fire burning in her throat, Saiya felt imbued with renewed vigor, and more than ready to finish what they had come to do.

They set off down a corridor that they had not yet explored. This one seemed slightly different from the others, but it took Saiya a lot of careful observation to pinpoint the cause as a series of deep grooves in the floor, the purpose of which she could only guess at.

Halfway down the passage, Baal stopped to fix the loose fastenings on his boot, and Caesar stepped ahead of him. The Hunter caught up quickly, and for a moment the two men were shoulder to shoulder, eyes locked in mutual antipathy. Kormac was bending his head to listen to something Leah had whispered, and Ghor was at the very back of the group, so Saiya was the only one to hear the soft mechanical shunk, the sound of a catch releasing.

Instinct took over, and she darted forward, slamming into Caesar and Baal and sending all three of them sprawling to the floor in an awkward pile. Moments later, a titanic crash shook the cobbles underneath them. Someone screamed.

"Agh, damnit!" Caesar said in a muffled voice. "Get the hell off me, it hurts!"

Saiya extricated herself and sat up, looking around dazedly. There was a giant metal cleaver blocking the hallway behind them. It was this that had descended, nearly on top of her friends. If she hadn't so swiftly intervened, the massive blade would have split them in half from head to toe.

"Well, fuck me," Baal breathed, staring wide-eyed at the death-trap. "That was close."

"Saiya, are you guys all right?" Kormac shouted from the other side. "Baal? Caesar? Can you hear us? Hey!"

"We're fine!" the young monk called back.

"Speak for yourself," Caesar mumbled. He was clutching his left hand.

"Show some appreciation, jackass," snapped Baal. "Saiya just saved your miserable life!"

The wizard's only reply was a hiss of pain as he flexed his fingers. Saiya turned to him in concern, but he waved her off. "I may have broken something again," he said through gritted teeth. "No, don't - don't look at me like that, it's not your fault. I shouldn't have thrown out this hand to catch myself."

"Are you going to be all right?" Saiya asked.

"Yeah, I'll just …" He trailed off, gingerly removing his glove and digging through his pack for a roll of bandages. While he was tightly wrapping the injured appendage, Baal and Saiya examined the cleaver to see if they could find a way to raise it again. Apparently it ran on a timer, however, because after about a minute it lifted up on its own, leaving only a groove in the floor to show where it had rested. Saiya glanced along at the ten or so identical channels along the corridor and flinched, knowing that each one could spell death for the unwary.

"Shit," said Caesar in a disconsolate tone. Glancing over at him, Saiya saw that the trap had claimed one victim at least: the mage's prized hat, which had been knocked from his head when he fell. The blade had neatly removed the top three inches of it. Caesar placed it sadly back on his head, tucking the detached tip into his pocket. Baal looked as though he was about to laugh at the ridiculous sight, but a swift elbow to the ribs from Saiya cured him of his desire to chuckle.

It took them nearly twenty minutes to negotiate the passage, as they stepped in single file under every blade. There was a near miss when one of the traps sprang just as Kormac crossed through it, but Baal was able to grab his arm and pull him out of the way just in time.

At the end of the hall they were faced with a choice of two ways to proceed: to the left along a narrow ledge overlooking a black abyss, or right, down a set of steps leading into a subset area. Baal chose the second option, and advanced one stair at a time, leery of more pitfalls. But before he had gone far, a voice erupted out of the darkness. Saiya clutched at Baal's shoulders in alarm, her heart pounding. It was a human voice, but something was off about it – a certain raspy quality that didn't match with the high, lilting tone.

"Help me!" it cried. "Help me!"

The adventurers exchanged puzzled glances. Baal called, "Who's there?", but the only response was a repeated plea for help that never varied in pitch or cadence. The sound of it send chills up Saiya's spine.

"Something feels wrong," she whispered to Baal. "I don't think we should go down there."

"Stay here if you like," he replied, "but I'm going to check it out."

"I'll go with you," Kormac offered staunchly.

"Well, I won't," said Leah. "I've seen enough misery in this place to last me a lifetime."

"Perhaps I will sit down for a while," Ghor added.

Caesar opted to keep the women company, so Baal and Kormac descended the stairs alone. Saiya wavered on the edge for a few moments, torn between her strong intuition to stay away and her desire to assist her friends. Then, knowing she would never forgive herself if something befell Baal because of her cowardice, she plunged after them.

The two men stood unmoving at the foot of the stairs, conferring in hushed voices. As Saiya joined them, they split and walked in opposite directions, lanterns uplifted to chase away the shadows. Saiya went with Baal.

The smell hit her first: a powerful odor of decay, noticeable even through the protective barrier of mint and rose. Then the soft pool of light touched upon a wooden frame covered with dark stains. A slab of metal, like a smaller version of the blade traps in the hallway, hung suspended from a rusted chain.

"What is that thing?" Saiya asked, curiosity mingling with disgust.

"It's called a guillotine," Baal answered. "It's a popular method of execution in this land. The condemned man kneels there, and places his neck in that slot. Then, when the executioner releases this lever-" He nudged the device with the toe of his boot to demonstrate. Saiya gasped aloud as the blade slammed down.

"How awful!" she exclaimed.

The Hunter shrugged. "It's a lot quicker than hanging, and certainly preferable to entrapment in an iron maiden. If you want to kill someone, beheading is one of the kinder ways to do it."

"That's not saying much," Saiya muttered.

"Find anything?" shouted Kormac from the other side of the room.

"No," Baal replied. "You?"

"A lot of shackles and some cages. Nothing else."

"Gods, that smell," Saiya groaned, pinching her nose shut and breathing shallowly through her mouth. "What's causing it?"

Baal jerked his head towards a basket lying beside the guillotine. "That, I think."

Saiya stepped forward to inspect it and immediately wished she had not. It was full of severed heads. She gagged, turning hastily away. As she struggled to collect her senses, a small, cloth-covered dome caught her eye. She reached unthinkingly out to touch it, and shrieked aloud as the cage beneath the sheet rattled forcefully. The same voice that had summoned them down into the pit croaked, "Help me! Help me! Help me!"

Saiya gulped down the terror rising in her throat, seized a corner of the cloth firmly in one hand, and dragged it aside. She had fully expected some deformed horror, but the reality was so unexpected yet so innocuous that she couldn't help but laugh.

"It's a bird!" she exclaimed.

The raven cocked its head to one side and regarded her brightly. "Help me!" it squawked.

"What a clever creature," Baal said admiringly. "He must be imitating what he's heard the prisoners saying."

"Help me!" the raven demanded.

"All right, fellow, hang on a minute," murmured Baal. The cage was locked, but a few minutes' work in the keyhole with the tip of his knife saw it laid open. The imprisoned bird hopped out, dragging one wing behind him. The Hunter crouched down and held out his forearm invitingly; after a momentary inspection, the raven stepped on, digging his talons into Baal's sleeve to stay balanced.

"He seems friendly enough," Saiya said. "Do you think he used to be someone's pet."

"It seems unlikely that an untamed bird would have found its way down here," Baal replied, "and I doubt that Maghda had her minions capturing the local wildlife."

"Poor thing, I wonder how long he's been trapped in that cage. He must be starving. Baal, we're going to take him with us, aren't we?"

"Of course. Give me some bread, will you? I'll see if he wants to eat."

By this time Kormac had meandered over to their side of the room, avoiding the gruesome basket of heads. The Templar was quite enamored with their find, chucking him gently about the head with one blunt forefinger.

"Aren't you a handsome lad!" he crooned. "Even with that wing."

Saiya fed the raven scraps of bread, which he picked daintily from between her pinched fingers. When he'd had his fill, he sidled up Baal's arm and perched under the curtain of dark hair at his neck.

"Aw," Saiya said, "he likes you."

"I am very likeable," Baal replied with a wink.

Having satisfied themselves that the room they had entered was a dead end, they returned to their companions in the corridor above. Caesar and Leah were having a quiet conversation while Ghor slumbered, the wizard's coat around her shoulders and her head leaned up against the wall. She looked worn out, pain and stress etching new lines in the smooth skin of her face. They had all aged years in appearance, Saiya thought, looking around at her friends. A sudden wave of hopelessness swept over her as she imagined the toils ahead and wondered if it was even possible for them to triumph. Of the group, only she and Kormac were uninjured. Ghor was still in a weakened state and Leah was no fighter; both would have to be protected if there was a serious fight.

Her glum musings were interrupted when Caesar said, "What's that thing on your shoulder, Hunter? It's as ugly as you are."

"Look who's talking," Baal retorted. "I bet when you were born, they threw you out with the afterbirth."

The wizard smirked. "Really? Saiya seems to find me attractive enough."

That was all it took. In the blink of an eye, Baal had drawn his crossbow and a bolt was quivering in the wall by Caesar's head, missing him so narrowly that when he clenched his teeth, his jaw brushed the shaft. But the wizard was not one to take such a threat lying down – with a snap of his fingers, Baal's weapon iced over and a trail of frost snaked its way up his arm.

"You fucker!" Baal snarled, reaching for his secondary bow. Saiya stepped in between them before the violence could escalate further.

"You should both be ashamed of yourselves," she said coldly. "I can't believe that you'd fight at a time like this."

"You heard what he said about you," muttered the Hunter.

"Yes I did, and while it was nothing offensive, I don't appreciate being used as ammunition in your petty quarrel!"

"I'm sorry, Saiya," Caesar said. "What I said was inappropriate and presumptuous, and I regret it deeply. It won't happen again."

Saiya spared him a nod to show that she accepted his apology. Baal, thinking that he'd emerged victorious, grinned broadly and flipped the wizard a discreet middle finger that unfortunately caught Saiya's eye. She rounded on him with hands posed furiously on her hips, and the smile froze on his face.

"You're just as guilty, Baal! What the hell made you think it was a good idea to draw a weapon on your comrade?"

"He's no comrade of mine."

Caesar heaved a long sigh and pushed off the wall he'd been leaning against. "I knew it was a mistake to work with you," he said. "Perhaps Ghor and I would be better off if we went separate ways."

"That's not necessary!" Saiya protested. "We should stick together-"

"I can't trust him to watch my back," Caesar said bluntly. "And frankly, I'm not sure that I would bother to save him if I had the chance." Seeing the crushed expression on her face, his eyes softened and he reached forward as if to stroke her cheek. At the last moment his hand faltered, clasping her shoulder instead.

"Come with us," he urged.

As Saiya hesitated, debating how she might convince him not to go, she sensed a turbulent outpouring of negative emotion at her back. She didn't have to look to know it came from Baal. His feelings were so powerful and clear that she could identify them even outside her meditation. Anger. Hurt. Fear.

The realization washed over her like a bucket of cold water. He's afraid that I'm going to leave him and go with Caesar. He'd never admit to it, but he wants me to stay.

Saiya shook her head. The wizard's mouth twitched in a rueful half-smile, as if he'd expected that answer.

"Well then," he said, dropping his arm and stepping back. "Good luck, friends. See you on the other side."

Gulping down the painful lump in her throat, Saiya threw her arms around his neck in a tight embrace and whispered, "Please be careful, Caesar. I'd hate for anything to happen to you."

"I'd hate for anything to happen to me either," he chuckled. Then, returning her hug, he added, "I'm more concerned about you. Stay out of trouble."

"I'll try," she said, and let him go. As she did, she realized that she was still wearing the tabi shoes he had loaned her earlier that day. She crouched down to take them off, but he stopped her.

"No need, Saiya. You can give them back to me next time I see you."

"Okay," she agreed, grateful for the subtle assurance, no matter how false it may be, that they would both survive the trials ahead. She bade farewell to Ghor, too, clasping the other woman close. Then they were leaving, heading back towards the blade-trapped corridor. It had all happened so suddenly, the shattering of their little alliance, that Saiya felt in shock.

Apparently she was not the only one with concerns for the fate of the wizard and his companion, for Leah looked after them with a worried frown and murmured, "Will they'll be all right?"

"I hope so," Saiya replied.

As the group – now reduced in number – set off again, Saiya noticed that Kormac was looking troubled. She let Baal and Leah take the lead and dropped back to ask him what was bothering him. His answer surprised her.

"I was trying to decide if I should go after them or not. It doesn't feel right, just letting them go like that."

"But I thought you hated Ghor," she exclaimed.

Kormac looked embarrassed. "I don't – not personally, anyway. But the Templar Order mandates that the practice of voodoo magic is evil and should be expunged from the face of Sanctuary. I'm going against the tenets by looking the other way every time she does her witchcraft."

"If she was not a sangoma, would you feel differently about her?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "I had no problem with her before I found out, but now whenever I look at her I can only see someone with the power to summon demons."

"But surely that power is not a bad thing, when it is used for good. Without Ghor's help, we would not have defeated the Spider Queen, and Leah would have died."

"I shall have to think about it," Kormac said, "and ask for guidance from the Grandmaster. In the meantime, though, would the three of you be all right on your own? I confess that I feel some obligation to the woman, since she saved my life."

"We'll be fine," Saiya replied, secretly relieved that Caesar and Ghor would have a strong warrior like Kormac watching their backs. The two magic users were both powerful in their own right, but some situations required brute force rather than sorcerous finesse.

Baal and Leah, noticing the Templar's departure, stopped to wait for Saiya to catch up. Baal looked less than pleased, but said nothing, and they continued on their way in silence. From then on the halls seemed to slope downwards, and they went down at least four flights of stairs. The only living thing they encountered was a strange little gnome, crouched on the floor amid stacks of golden coins. He appeared to be counting them, but when they drew near he leaped to his feet and scurried off, cackling. When Saiya picked up one of the coins, it dissolved like smoke in her hand. Moments later the whole pile was gone.

"What a funny little creature," she remarked.

"That was a treasure goblin," said Leah. "They're extremely rare, and it's said that even catching a glimpse of one is extremely fortuitous. If you can manage to capture it before it escapes, you'll be rewarded with wealth beyond comprehension. But if you forget to make the goblin give ownership of his gold over to you, then it will vanish, like we just saw."

At last the path they were following came to an end at a thick metal door. Grunting with exertion, Baal lifted the bar holding it closed. They stepped through and stared around them in amazement and dismay.

They were outside once again, in a courtyard beside the river. Looking up, they could see the back wall of the mansion on the cliff-top high above. The shrinking moon illuminated a crumbling bridge spanning the torrential water, dwindling into a road that was little more than a game path on the other side. The trail had gone cold, and there was no sign of Maghda anywhere.

* Ghor said: "May your soul find peace in another world, my brother."