There was a blade pressed against her mate's throat. She bared her teeth. Flamekeeper held up both his hands. "Darius, that man there is a friend of mine." He took a step forward. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't hurt him."
The young man shook his head, clearly confused, then smiled. "I should have known you wouldn't stay dead either." He let her mate go, and then sheathed the sword. "What took you so long?"
"Took..." Flamekeeper glanced at the others. "Darius, what... are you all right?"
He blinked. "Of course." Darius glanced at the others. "But I am being a poor host. Please, sit. Would you like tea?"
Flamekeeper glanced at her. She gave him a slight nod. "Tea would be wonderful," he said.
She watched the young man fill a kettle from the water in a barrel. A concerned look showed her Magpie holding a cloth to his face, but he gestured to indicate he was all right. The Messenger looked more annoyed at Magpie's injury than the elf did.
Darius righted the chair he'd thrown at her, then indicated they should sit. She signaled the dogs to remain on guard, letting them know if anyone else was coming, then gestured to the others to sit.
Color was slowly returning to Flamekeeper's face. "Darius, I... what are you doing here?"
"I was reading." He blinked suddenly, and then glanced around. Magpie offered him the book back. "Thank you."
"Yes, I know you were..." Flamekeeper shook his head. "These ruins." He glanced back at the passage they'd come through. "Darius, in the labs. What is going on?"
"Oh. That's where Sister is studying. She's close, very close, but there are still too many variables to be sure of duplicating her earlier success." He rose, and began pouring tea.
Flamekeeper's face was horrified. "Darius, those were children."
"It's terrible. The little ones tried so hard," Darius shook his head. "They wanted to be strong, but the demons..." He sighed. "Sister will stop it from happening." He smiled. "I'm glad you are here, uncle. I was worried when you didn't return with the others."
Flamekeeper glanced at the others, then at the tea. The others waited until Darius had taken a drink before having a drink of their own. "What do you mean come back with the others?" He shook his head. "And what do you mean 'sister'?"
"My sister," Darius said. "She is in charge here." He frowned, and then looked from Flamekeeper to the others. "Who are the rest of you?"
"I am Skyhunter. We are Wardens."
Darius got up so quickly he knocked his chair over, and started backing away. "Uncle, what were you thinking? Bringing Wardens? Here?"
Skyhunter blinked. She looked from Flamekeeper to the Messenger. The young man had not remarked on the Messenger's presence at all, but was disturbed to find they were Wardens? His reactions made no sense. "Your Uncle has joined our order."
Flamekeeper nodded. "I have been a Warden since... sense I was separated from you."
The young man shook his head, and looked fearfully over his shoulder. "Uncle, you need to go. You need to take your friends and go, now."
"Come with us, Darius."
"I can't. My sister needs me."
"Darius, you don't have a sister."
Darius began to shake. "She needs me. I have to protect her, keep her safe."
"Darius..."
The young man looked at them, then turned and ran. Magpie went for his bow, but Flamekeeper grabbed his arm. "No."
"Well, they definitely are going to know we are here now," Magpie said.
"Let's move."
#
"Blood magic?" Keenan asked Emory.
Emory sighed. "Most likely."
They had retreated into the catacombs. There was a small pool, providing them with fresh water, and several choke points. They could hold their position for some time, if it became necessary. And in a pinch, he was carrying a couple of Dworkin's toys. The dwarf had taken his finest creations with him when he'd gone on the run, but a couple of his apprentices had remained behind. He could seal a path or blow something to smithereens if it became necessary.
Orliv kept a watchful eye on the corridor, with the mabari beside him. "Why though? She's clearly got plenty of willing followers. Why take a templar captive?"
"Perhaps these followers are not so willing," Emory said. "A single blood mage can enchant several. And she had at least one apprentice."
"So how do we fix this?" Skyhunter asked.
"There are ways to deal with the enchantment," Emory said. "Certain prayers, rituals. Spells by trusted mages. But by far the most effective method..."
She nodded. "Kill the blood mage."
There was a scraping sound in the catacombs. Both mabari immediately went on alert. The Wardens drew their blades as the corpses of the long dead began to rise.
#
They moved quietly through the tunnels, until they saw stars. Skyhunter glanced at Magpie. "If you fly, how long before you can send word?"
He considered. "Back through the swamp... four days. The elven settlement is east, the village north. Which way?"
"We came from the north. They will likely expect that."
"East it is. Good luck." He saluted, scanned the area quickly, and then was moving. He was gone from sight only a minute later, and gone from her senses only a few moments after that.
She sniffed the air, and then directed her pack to the south.
#
They couldn't risk a fire. The Messenger offered to share the fish he caught, but he was the only one willing to eat it raw. Though Keenan was fairly sure Skyhunter refused for his sake rather than any actual problem with the idea on her part. They had rations enough in their packs.
Emory was staring at the castle. "They have fires going, on the towers."
"Well, at least those bastards are warm." Keenan sighed. He glanced up at Skyhunter. "Thoughts?"
"They are preparing for something," Skyhunter narrowed her eyes. "Four days until he finds help. A week, perhaps more, until help can arrive."
"You think it might be too late?"
"In that time, they could finish their task, or move their lair again." She shook her head. "It was chance we found them this time."
"I wish you weren't right about that." He shook his head. "At the very least, we need more information for the reinforcements to go on."
#
Carefully, they crept back into the catacombs. There were few cultists for a space as large as the ruins, and they were able to avoid the guards easily.
Skyhunter signaled to her pack, and they moved upwards. She ducked back as a guard passed, then continued. Her hand went up in a gesture of warning as she heard voices.
"...into the swamp."
"If that's true, we'll need to be moving."
"She said no. The ritual is nearly complete. Once she unlocks the sphere, nothing will stop us."
"Then the child survived?"
They were out of earshot a moment later. Skyhunter turned and looked at her mate. He nodded. Somewhere, a child was in serious danger.
#
The two guards on watch died quickly to the blades of Skyhunter and Emory, and were quickly dragged out of sight. Emory stripped off the keys, and unlocked the door.
Inside was a young girl, not much older than seven. She looked Chasind, and blinked up at them in surprise. "Who are you?"
"We are friends, little one. We've come to get you to safety."
The girl nodded, and let Keenan take her hand. Carefully, they made their way back out the way they had come. Skyhunter held up a warning hand. The way was blocked by risen corpses. They moved down a different corridor. This one took them towards the center of the ruins. Skyhunter was starting to signal them down another path when a woman's voice, unnaturally loud, split the air. "Wardens!"
They turned to the direction of the sound. An elven woman stood on a balcony, looking down at them. She was dressed in robes reminiscent of a keeper, and carried a staff carved with a serpent motif. Keenan heard Emory hiss. "That's her?" he asked.
"Yes," the former templar replied. "That is her."
She tapped the staff against the ground. "You were not invited here, Wardens. And you are taking what does not belong to you."
Immediately, both Skyhunter and Emory shifted to block her view of him and the child, granting cover. The Messenger stood to his side, shield at the ready. The elven woman merely laughed. "Come now, there is no need for hostility. Clearly, this has all been a misunderstanding. Lay down your arms, and you will not be harmed."
"She is not being truthful," the Messenger said.
"Got that," Keenan replied.
The woman narrowed her eyes, then gestured. A moment later, two of the cultists came forward, dragging Orliv between them. "As I said, Wardens. Lay down your arms, and I will tell my men not to harm you." She gave Orliv a pointed look. "Or your companion."
"Dammit," Emory said.
"Keenan, think you can make the shot, give him a chance?" Skyhunter asked.
"Yes," Keenan replied. He let go of the girl's hand to reach for his bow. The girl immediately whirled, kicked him hard in his good leg, and ran. He nearly fell. The Messenger tried to grab the girl, and failed.
Laughter came from the woman. "Did you think you could turn mine against me?"
The sound of feet scraping stone came from behind them, and Keenan glanced over his shoulder to see some of the cultists, armed with crossbows. "Skyhunter."
"I see them," she said. Reluctantly, she sighed. "Fight another day."
They nodded, and began laying down their weapons. Almost immediately, two of the cultists came forward and began shackling their hands. The elven mage's smile was wide with satisfaction. When the cultists had finished, she nodded to them. "And as I promised, I will tell my men not to harm your companion." She smirked.
The cultists let go of Orliv's arms. He glanced, then started to move towards them. Her hands suddenly glowed, and she lifted the staff almost negligently. Ice suddenly coated Orliv's form, obscuring him entirely.
Skyhunter roared. The mage laughed, then casually pushed the ice-covered hunter off the ledge. Keenan turned his head away as his friend shattered on the stone. He heard the Messenger wail a protest as they were dragged away.