Cerondyari led them away from the water and mist, into a wood-lined chamber, walls covered with small cupboards. As everyone else got dressed, Stathis tried to brush herself down and not appear a complete mess, wiping down her breastplate before strapping it back on, pouring water from her sheath. Hakara had her face turned to the ceiling, trying not to look as the others stripped off, as Stathis moved to check on her.

‘You doing OK? Are your spell components still going to work?’

Hakara shook herself out of a confused daze, her fingers starting to move through her pouches, checking what she had. ‘I think I have been able to dry everything out. But I am surprised to find living elves here, the place was supposed to have been abandoned centuries ago!’

‘I think some form of preservation spell kept them alive – those crystal pillar things we’ve seen. But how many, I’ve no idea. Or what will happen next. They seem friendly enough, at least for now, but be careful. I don’t suppose you can speak elven at all? That might be helpful.’

Hakara shook her head. ‘I know a little of the tongue of the elves of the wood, but nothing more than a few phrases.’ She was facing the corner, looking upwards, trying to avoid looking at the others getting dressed. Janaxia, of course, took the longest, a frankly excessive number of buckles and straps keeping her outfit in place, magic snapping each them shut, one by one.

The hallways of this place (underground? That would explain the hot water, and how they hadn’t seen it in their scouting) were better preserved than those above, with simple patterns of plants and nature spiralling along the white-plastered walls. Despite the heat and humidity, the passages were wide enough not to seem too cramped, as Parth, unusually, stepped to the front, keeping pace with Stathis, just behind Cerondyari.

As they walked, Stathis managed to get close to Parth. ‘So, uh, “queen”? Was that you?’

Parth took a deep breath, then paused. ‘Explain later.’ She began to walk faster, breaking away from Stathis, leaving her behind. Something else that needed answering, although likely less pressing, and would explain their reception. If Parth was elven royalty, then getting a friendly, and fancy, welcome was understandable.

Several sharp turns led them away from the elegant hallways into more cramped and plain passages; clearly servant’s passages, without any need for fancy decoration. An open door showed a bedroom, a crystalline pillar stretching from floor to ceiling. Within the greenish material was a decayed body, bones and clothing still entombed within it. Beyond that was a room that was unmistakably an office, even the ancient and priceless statues of gods and heroes and fine tapestries on the walls not enough to disguise a battered and ink-stained desk, neatly arranged drawers for paperwork within easy reach. Flicking through thick bundles of notes was another elf, moon-white hair wound into a complicated mass of braids, a high-collared shirt of white silk combining with their pale skin to give them something of an ethereal look.

She looked at them as they approached and said something, elegant sounds that were utterly incomprehensible to Stathis. She sighed, rolled her eyes and started again, this time her words archaic but understandable, as she bowed at Parth. ‘Greetings, Lady Parthenelle TalQasar Belphern, beloved of the woods.’ She paused, looking the rest of them over, as the cat jumped onto the desk, staring back at her. ‘And thy companions as well, of course. I am Seneschal Fionarasa, key-mistress of this place. It would seem the seal hast weakened and returned us to the flow of time, and awakened us from bound slumber. Hast thou obtained the key of gold and ivory to free our Prince, or does that still wander free? And what of the Black Songstress? Has her twisted soul been sent to an eternity of suffering, or dost our kin still suffer in her ancient dream?’

Parth bowed back, although less deeply, before nudging Stathis to the front. ‘Stathis Iristari, Hauleni.’ Stathis didn’t recognise the term, hoping it was something nice, or at least vaguely respectable. The elf looked her up and down, taking in her bedraggled and still slightly soggy appearence, while Stathis made sure she was at least standing straight, tall enough to look down on the woman, trying to look vaguely heroic.

‘Hmmm. A little less impressive than most of thine kind, but I suppose thou wilt suffice. Very well, then thou must retrieve the key and free our Prince, before the grim toll of time grinds us all to naught but dust.’

‘Sorry, I have no idea what’s going on. What “key”? What is going on here? We didn’t think there would be any survivors here.’

Fionarasa sighed again, apparently expecting Stathis to know what was going on. ‘The guardian beast, once saviour and protector. The warding spell upon this place sealed it from the world, to bind the Black Songstress inside a cage bought and paid for with the souls of my blood. But now that it hast been penetrated, the seal will soon weaken unto nothing. As time returns into this sacristy, then, then all of mortal blood within the seal wilt perish, as the deathly grip of time returns.’

Stathis tried to translate that back into something understandable. ‘Oh. That sounds bad. So, what, we have to get the key back? Where is it?’

‘The beast!’ She gestured in irritation, pointing at a tapestry on the wall, depicting a unicorn, rearing up to crush enemies beneath golden hooves. ‘Once our protector, then our seal, now our doom. Driven by fear and hate, the beast must be bought, alive, to the regal seat. But such a task should be simple for a Hauleni. No simple item would suffice, lest the Songstress claim it for herself. But the beast grew maddened with age, and now lies beyond reason.’ She gave an odd half-bow, her expression anything but deferential.

‘We’ve already fought that thing, capturing it seems pretty hard! And it can teleport, that’s going to make it a pain to grab.’

‘Art thou not sworn to purity, of both body and mind? It should be meek towards you, gentle as a lamb.’

Stathis laughed bitterly. ‘It tried running me through with that damn horn, if that’s meek I really don’t want to see angry!’

They paused, mouth twitching as they tried to find the correct words. ‘Thou art pure and virgin, are thou not? A sworn knight of purity, untouched by desire?’

Behind Stathis, Semari snickered, Parth’s face stiffening as she tried not to show a response before Stathis responded. ‘That was not part of what I swore. “While the sun burns, while stone endures, while oaths stand true, while there is hope, then shall I fight, for mercy, truth and justice” and all that stuff, but nothing like that.’ Fortunately, the chapter master had been too drunk to notice all the parts of the oath she had elided, or changed, or just vaguely mumbled without actually saying anything, and it had been deemed good enough to get in.

‘Of surety, one of thou group must be maiden - Queen Parthenelle, thou art not yet married, art thou?’ Parth pulled out a necklace, strung with a dozen metal rings, metal sliding and clanking together, a chunky gemstone catching the light, the woman’s eyes going wide and lips forming into a scandalised ‘O’. It seemed Elven social standards had changed in some significant ways in however-long it had been since this place was sealed. ‘To be affianced so often, has your life been so tragic?’

Parth shook her head. ‘Arrangements, by turns and travels.’ Fionarasa was looking utterly scandalised, as Stathis sighed and turned to Hakara.

‘I really, really don’t want to ask this, but, Hakara, are you, well, you know?’

To Hakara’s credit, she answered without being excessively awkward about it. ‘No. I may not have the most experience, but, um, yes.’ She gave an embarrassed, but satisfied smile.

‘Right. That’s sorted then. So no virgins, we’re going to need a net. And some big sticks. Maybe some sleeping potions or something? No, the damn things are immune to poison, aren’t they?’

Janaxia gave a very deliberate cough. ‘Will you not ask myself, or Semari? We could both be possessed of the necessary purity, could we not?’

‘Janaxia, we all saw you and that medusa going at it! And I know you’ve been seeing Carissia whenever she shows up.’

‘”That Medusa”, as you so rudely call here, does have a name – she is Lady Kalmaris, of the Eastern Parithians.’

‘Yes, her. Whatever. So, I’m pretty damn sure you’re not qualified. And we both heard Semari and that guy down in that underworld place. And there was that bard back in Shirebridge. So, we need nets and sticks. And something to stop it teleporting.’

The woman had tilted her head, trying to follow the flow of conversation, looking somewhat scandalised as she figured it out. ‘The guardian is a proud and noble beast, tied to the very land itself! Thou cannot simply attack and cage it.’

‘It’s a magical horse with a pointy stick on its head. If we can get it somewhere where it can’t charge, we can jump it and keep smacking it, so I’m actually pretty sure we can. We don’t need it to cooperate do we, we just have to get it to the throneroom? Anyway, what was that you said about the Black Songstress? We saw some robed figure that sang, was that them?’

‘A scion of the Destroyers, a binding and a curse upon us. Her it was that caused us to lay the seal, to bind her here, lest our people be damned and drawn into her song. Now that we wake, and she yet sings, she shall seek us out and claim us. The peace of the world, bought with the souls of my kin.’

‘OK, does she have any weaknesses? Anything we can do to ward her off?’ Maybe smack her with Janaxia’s book, although there was a chance of transferring some more weird traits to Janaxia – giving her a lethal voice might be awkward.

‘She fears naught but flame, retreating to the darkness when challenged, yet even that is but brief ward. The seal, paid for with a price of souls, binds her in a dream of conquest, peopled with those that sacrificed themselves to bind her, but it is but light slumber, and already she stirs.’

Semari clapped her fist against her hand. ‘Oh, that’s what the night is! So, like, all the creepy-night-people are souls that got nommed on and sucked into the spirit world-thing? And that singing ghost eats souls and then makes them do what she wants? I’ve heard about that kind of thing! Think it ended with someone seducing them, kissing out the souls. Janaxia, sounds like one for you, wanna kiss a ghost?’

Janaxia sniffed. ‘Incorporeal undead are known to be poor lovers. The simple lack of a body makes them unsuited to the more, shall we say, entertaining parts of the process, no matter their professed skills. And that skull was scarcely attractive! If my guardian angel were to appear, then I daresay they would make short work of the beast, but it seems we shall have to endure the task ourselves.’

Parth stifled another laugh, Semari staring at Stathis with a smirk, Hakara looking both scandalised and slightly terrified, before Stathis tried to wrest back some level of control over the conversation. Fionarasa was looking mortified, probably not having expected this sort of talk from “saviours”, as Stathis answered. ‘One problem at a time. If we get the unicorn back here, then we’ve got that done, and then we can try and defeat the ghost-thing. Got anything to help with that? Really strong nets, for example. Or anything to help with the ghost? Holy water, that kind of thing?’

‘What resources we had, we didst used to try and defeat her beforetimes. Before she attacked, this place was naught but a pleasure palace, for relaxation, with little more than the usual defences. When the Black Triad didst attack, we defended as best we could, but the Chimer didst called the Songstress, and leave her to doom us all. We fought bravely, but couldst not win – those of our sages that survived created the seal, binding our souls to fuel the binding, our prince as the focus. As the centuries didst pass, our souls were claimed by the seal, keeping the Songstress in her dream. Now it lies broken, and time shall soon claim us, if the Songstress does not wake first. We bound ourselves, awaiting a help that never came. Until Queen Parthenelle didst come to rescue us.’ She bowed, more deeply, at Parth.

So much for that plan. ‘OK, so we need to capture a unicorn and destroy a soul-eating ghost monster, before a magical seal destroys us all, and probably releases the ghost to do bad stuff. That’s something to work with.’ She pulled a chair away from the wall, sitting down slowly in case the chair gave beneath her weight. ‘Tell us everything you know about it, and whatever resources you have on hand.’