Despite taking a much longer rest than they had planned, the Company's sleep had done less good than they had hoped. There was still a trace of sluggishness to their movements, as though the darkness were keeping them all in a perpetual state of half-wakefulness.
Anomen, especially, seemed as though he could have done with another few hours of sleep. After long hours on the march, casting a restoration spell had been more taxing than usual, and he made sure Lidia knew it.
"I shall do what I can to maintain our comrades' health," he said, "but I would ask you to consider spending our resources wisely."
"Of course, the 'ounce of prevention' is always better," she replied. "I plan to finish this and bring everyone home to tell of it."
She resisted the temptation to point out that this time, as well as the last, had been completely his idea. Instead she cast another glance towards Yoshimo, who had not stirred since his fit a while ago. She was taking care of the thief's possessions, and had resolved to let him sleep until the others were ready to leave.
Still, she thought, she might be pressed to choose between fighting off the shadows and undoing their damage. The prospect was not comforting.
Minsc, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of activity, if somewhat quieter than usual—by now, Valygar had successfully impressed upon him the group's need to attract as little attention as possible. He and Aerie were done packing up first, so they took on other chores around camp.
Minsc was poised with an extra water skin over the fire, ready to extinguish the last embers.
"Oh, you don't need to use the water for that," Aerie said. "We might still need it. Let—let me try a spell."
From her small, red velvet pouch at her waist, she withdrew a fingernail-sized piece of glass, sanded as smooth as a riverbed stone.
"I only learned this spell because the dragon's wizard had this piece. There isn't—there isn't much else from his stuff that I know how to use yet," she added, somewhat bashfully.
She traced her hands in a complex motion, and pronounced, "Incertus, pulcher, imperio!"
The glass stone winked out of existence with a spark between her fingertips. In a moment, a small cascade of mist and rime fell from her hands, turning the fire's last embers dull, grey, and cold. A sudden puff of smoke arose, lingered in the air, and then was soon gone.
This simple spell captured Minsc's attention. As soon as the magic had finished working, he spoke up.
"You are not so different from the witches of my homeland," he said, more thoughtful than usual.
"Oh, I doubt my magic is as strong as all that," Aerie said,
"Nonsense!" Minsc said. "Boo and I firmly believe in the virtues of showing evildoers exactly what my foot's imprint on their buttocks will look like, but none can whisper like a witch."
"You've mentioned these…witches before. Didn't you once travel with one?"
"Yes indeed, we were a mighty team, Dynaheir and Minsc and Boo! But o sorrowful day, she is now gone. Without the proper rites from her fellow hathran, Dynaheir's spirit will wander the earth, never to come back to the plains and fields of Rashemen. And we shall never be able to return to the Ice Dragon Berserker Lodge, either. Little Boo has a great heart, that he still remains with me. I…I am a failure as a guard…"
"Minsc, I'm sure you did everything you could to protect her," Aerie said, resting a reassuring hand on his massive shoulder. "There must be something…something we can do to put her spirit to rest."
"Boo and I do not speak much of the dead, but it can hardly be helped when we are in such peril as this." He patted the hilt of his sword. "When we go into battle today, Dynaheir's name will be in our shouts, her spirit in every swing!"
"Whatever, beefy," the sword said. "As long as I get to kill something."
The Company tried waking Yoshimo, but he was unable to say much more than a few words before drifting asleep again. They ended up lacing Yoshimo's hands together and putting him on Minsc's back, arms around the massive ranger's shoulders.
After taking some time to completely finish their half-finished job of packing up, they extinguished their lamps, plunging them into the false darkness. Fumbling their way through the cave's exit, they resumed their journey, with only the warm gold of their lanterns and the cold blue-white from Azuredge to illuminate the way ahead.
This league they traveled seemed to stretch endlessly on, even longer with the sudden absence of light. Everything around them was eerily quiet. Once or twice they could have sworn that something whispered or slithered in the dead grass and remnants of snow, but nothing accosted them.
After what seemed like an eternity, they finally came to a part of the forest where the darkness pressed in closer, where the forest was thicker, and where the branches were emptiest; where their lights' radiance dimmed, and where even Azuredge seemed to falter.
If it was possible for something to be blacker than pitch dark, then this was it. They couldn't see their hands in front of their face, if the light withdrew more than an arm's length. From time to time, they were half-bent, feeling the way ahead with their hands. Valygar's usual sense of direction was handicapped, and more than once he had to pause and assess as they went, making any sense of moving forward that much slower.
But no one was affected more than Yoshimo. He was barely upon the edge of reason, occasionally murmuring as though he were in a feverish dream. Every now and again, he let loose a string of agitated words in his own tongue.
Every time one could steal a glance at his face with a little light, the dimness revealed a thin sheen of sweat, though the air grew colder and colder. Now and again, he struggled to free his hands, as though some other will were guiding them. Fortunately, Minsc was strong enough for him to simply shrug off any resistance from his burden. All they could do was keep going. Either they would keep charge of him, or the mysterious wight would.
Finally, they found themselves abruptly against a stone wall. Valygar ran his brown hand over the stone and mortar. Lidia trained her will towards Azuredge, and with an effort the axe's light spread across the wall.
Even in that harsh white light, they could all see that this wall once belonged to something fair. The stones were laid with care, and in one row, there was even a line of carvings which, to judge by the white scrapings and glinting traces, was once covered in gold leaf. This wall extended about a hundred feet on each side, before being abruptly broken down and shattered on one side, and disappearing into the side of a hill on the other.
Regardless of this building's former beauty or grandeur, looters had thoroughly picked it over—pilfering the bricks, scraping away the gold leaf, daring the depths for other treasures. Now the place was mostly left to the wolves and shadows.
The Company could see those shadow-creatures now, writhing atop the wall and upon a roof above, seemingly drawn towards something up top. Carefully, so as not to disturb anything passing, Valygar led the others as they moved along the wall as silently as possible, inches away from the wall without touching it, making absolutely sure of each footstep as they took it.
Then—no one was sure who did this—a twig snapped underfoot.
The pile of shadows above them was turbulent for a moment, as though someone had stirred a cauldron full of smoke, but then it subsided.
Valygar seemed to anticipate the question on everyone's lips. "I have been here before," he whispered, "but never in such darkness as this. There is no passable entrance out here. This is an old temple, and it was built into the swell of a hill. We're on the farthest side. The only way one can get inside is" —and here he pointed up towards the roiling mass of shadow-creatures— "up there."
"What's inside that they're trying to protect?" Aerie asked.
"Hush!" Valygar put a finger to his lips. "They have no ears, but that does not mean they cannot hear."
Lidia stared upwards. In this light, she could barely see her own hand, much less a far distance. While inside Anath's cave, the firelight had felt comforting, but out here, the cold light from the axe felt garish and searing, laying everything vulnerable and bare. She dared not allow more than a dim gleam.
Regardless, she could guess the number of shadows from their subtle noises: something like the sound of silk upon broken glass, brushing over the flagstones like a paintbrush on canvas, unbound, unchained, filled with a silent fury that hated light and every creature that belonged to it. And they vastly outnumbered the five members of the Company still standing.