‘Do you know what style of magic Miss Janaxia practices? She must be very powerful, I don’t believe I’ve seen her refresh her spells by studying her spellbook once since we came here.’ Hakara was studying her own, Stathis occasionally steering her with a nudge of the shoulders, whenever she was about to stumble into a bush or tree.

Stathis choose her words carefully, trying not to outright lie. ‘I think it’s something old and unusual. I’m pretty sure it’s something different than your spells.’

‘That darkness she conjured wasn’t something I’d heard of before, outside of some of the more advanced theory classes. And in the legends, of course, but I’m surprised she hasn’t been snapped up by one of the Academies. Do you think she would be willing to teach me? And she’s so mature and stylish as well!’

Stathis nudged her around a vine-covered statue, tip of a spear protruding from amidst the greenery. ‘She’s definitely unusual, yes. She’s mentioned she had to go through some rather unusual training to learn her skills, I don’t know how transferable such things are.’

Hakara glanced about, dropping her voice low. ‘One of the hidden colleges? That would explain her crest.’ She gestured at her chest. ‘Although the headband she wears is rather unusual. Did she kill a demon and claim the horns herself?’

Stathis didn’t have the heart to say that they were attached. ‘She’s had them for a while now, since everything that happened at Redcastle. They were obtained from a demon there, although it was pretty stressful and a bit of a mess.’

‘She forged a magical item from a demon!?’ That was technically true, at least from a certain point of view. Hakara’s attitude was looking like it might develop into adulation, as Stathis tried to think of a way to defuse it. ‘She doesn’t look the type, but she’s an artificer as well!? That’s amazing!’

‘It was, um, something of a unique event, she didn’t do that entirely by herself. She’s good to fight with, but her magic is a bit… unusual, I think your own spells are easier to work with.’

Ahead of them, Parth paused for a moment, laying a hand on the vines and murmuring something, moving her hand to cut herself on the thorns, a few drops of blood splashing onto them. The woods seemed to rustle and whisper, leaves twitching and dancing in an unfelt wind.

Stathis shivered, glancing around nervously. This place must once have been a graveyard or temple area, small stone markers and buildings dotted around the place, statues staring out from beneath cloaks of foliage. Even Semari was subdued, skulking around rather than confidently striding, darting between shadows.

The centre of the place was easy to find, an amphitheatre set amidst the markers and memorials, a stepped slope leading down to a stone stage, bearing a stone bowl, filled with silvery liquid. Parth raised a hand, signalling a stop, pointing at a dark smear on a stone. Blood – probably that of the unicorn. Good, it must be close by, and hopefully couldn’t teleport itself again.

Parth whispered. ‘Close. Caution.’ She pulled out her necklace of rings and kissed one, a gemstone glowing with a soft purple light. That was something else she’d have to ask about; Parth was clearly here for some reason, rather than just loot. And whatever was up with that “Queen” business – pretty much all elves seemed to have fancy titles, but “Queen” seemed a bit more important. The woman in charge had recognised her as well – Parth was probably old, at least by human standards, but almost certainly not old enough to be from when this was built.

Stathis tapped Hakara on the shoulder, a twining ribbon of energy collapsing with a soft hiss as her magical study was disrupted. ‘Get ready.’

Behind the stage was a small temple, doors long since rotted away. Parth stealthily approached, as everyone else moved into nearby hiding places. She stepped into the shadows of the building, before there was a loud crashing sound, Parth running back into the open, closely pursued by the unicorn, still injured from before.

This time, the combat was mercifully brief, Semari leading the charge as Stathis defended, deflecting hoof- and horn-strikes, her shield denting and warping from the impacts, but holding together, if barely. It whinnied and spun, attacks growing weaker before Semari leapt onto its back, punching away, and it finally gave in, crashing to the ground. Hakara and Janaxia dashed forward, quickly clamping irons around the thing’s legs, and blinders over its eyes. It seemed cruel, but the damn thing had refused to co-operate when given a chance!

Giving it a healing potion after beating the crap out of it seemed strange, but they needed it moving, and it might show goodwill and make the thing less of a pissy bastard when it recovered. While they waited for it to recover, Stathis approached Parth, currently staring intently at a bright red bush. ‘Parth, got a minute?’ There was no answer, but Parth at least turned to look at her. ‘Anything you need to tell me about this place?’

Parth stared at her blandly, before pulling out her necklace again. Closer, Stathis could see that every ring there was different, over a dozen bands of bright, polished metal, some inscribed with tiny runes. In the centre, dragged down by its weight, was a larger ring, a gemstone large enough to enough to cover an entire finger-joint set into it, a silver tree somehow inside the gem. ‘Promises to be kept.’

‘Right, which means what? Is this where your family is from or something, back before it got sealed?’

Parth nodded. ‘And a unity to be granted.’

‘You’re… engaged? To get married to the prince or whatever of this place?’

Parth nodded again.

‘Congratulations, I guess? So how much of this stuff did you know about before we came here? Given that it seems to be collapsing into gods-knows-what, a warning would have been nice. If we all get withered into nothingness, then the wedding’s off.’

‘Unexpected. Troublesome.’ Stathis stared at her, hoping for some further explanation. ‘The curse must be lifted, the song must cease, else all is lost. And marriage…’ She shrugged.

‘OK, That sounds bad. So we’ve got the unicorn, that just leaves the singing ghost, right? Or is there something else that we need to do, that you need to tell me about now’

‘Dust to dust, returned to ash.’ Parth’s face was… angry, maybe? It was strange, and slightly unnerving, seeing her so intense, fingers tight around her bow. ‘Kinslayer, oathbroker. Death to death, a fate long overdue.’

‘OK, that makes sense, family grudge against the thing. Bit dwarven, but whatever. Now, because you probably have some kind of family legend or history, and clearly know more than I do, what do we need to do about the ghost? We probably can’t just smack her in the face, she’s a bloody ghost.’

‘Banshee, not ghost.’

The unicorn was hauled to its feet, chains clinking. It tried to rear and lash out, but the chains held, Janaxia smacking it on the rump, urging it into movement. As it refused, she incanted, a flame-wreathed iron crown appearing in the air, floating above the horn. It changed shape, unravelling into a long iron strip, metal binding itself to the horn, golden ivory blackening to ash. It grew calm, allowing Janaxia to lead it. Hakara studied the effect intently, taking notes.

‘He just needed to be shown who was in charge.’ Janaxia patted him on the flank. ‘Be nice and calm, and I’m sure I can find you a carrot. Now, shall we be off?’ The ashen-black horn bound with black iron was a touch unnerving, but it was better than having to deal with an angry unicorn, so Stathis let it slide, returning to her conversation with Parth.

‘OK, banshee, whatever. What can we do about it other than fail to stab it? Got any ancient elven holy magic to blast it with?’

Parth gestured expectantly at Stathis. ‘Holy.’

‘Thanks. But that’s not what I mean, and I can’t really fight it alone. That thing is ancient, and undead normally get more powerful with age. It’s got an army of ghost-skeletons as well, and it looks like all of the survivors are, well, no offence to your people, not likely to fight.’

Parth nodded. ‘Servants, not warriors.’ She paused, considering. ‘Fire. Cleansing.’

‘We’re going to need a lot of fire for it! Janaxia does creepy, eldritch, spooky shit, Hakara can call an ice storm, we’ve not got a lot of fire.’

Parth caused, considering. ‘Free the dragon.’

‘Is that a good idea? It didn’t look happy. How do we know it won’t kill us?’

Parth shrugged. At this point, it seemed a choice of what would kill them, and dragonfire was probably faster than time imploding, a pissed-off banshee, or whatever else the broken seal might do.

‘Do we even have anything that can wake it up? It’s probably been a statue for centuries.’

‘Elven magic.’ She made a vague, swirly gesture with her hands, something clearly picked up from Semari.

‘That’s not really an answer, but if you think it’ll work, and you can persuade the dragon to not eat you, it’s about as good as we’ve good. Semari, get over here!’

With the iron crown bound around its horn, the unicorn was eerily quiescent, except for perpetually trying to nuzzle and lick Janaxia, her hair getting licked into spikes whenever she couldn’t move away fast enough. Semari kept a safe distance, still ready to fight if needed, Stathis dropping back to talk to her.

‘Yo! What’s up? Pointy-head seems quiet enough, although Janaxia’s eldritched him up, good ‘n proper.’

‘We’ve not got a lot of time, so we’re going to need to split up. After dragging this thing back, Parth is going to go and do something with the dragon. I’m going to see what I can do about the ghost-banshee, and try and keep the place from exploding. I’ll take Janaxia, as she can blast things. Semari, do you want to go with Parth and keep her safe, or come with me and fight skeleton-ghosts?’

‘I’ll take dragon. Punching ghosts is hard work, and they’re all cold ‘n icky. Plus it might let me fly it!’ The prospect of it maybe just eating her didn’t seem to have occurred to her, but that was probably a boon, given the circumstances.

‘OK, you go with Parth, try not to get eaten. And be polite to the dragon, it’s probably not going to be very happy. Parth, do you need Hakara at all? It’s quite a trek, and she’s not very fit.’

‘No. Speed is important.’

‘OK. As soon as we get this bastard back, I’ll take Janaxia and Hakara and we’ll head out again.’ As they walked along, more of the trees were twisting and warping, sundering themselves into dust and ash, the forest slowly vanishing, ancient ruins emerging, collapsing as the trees that had supported them disappeared, or silently imploding into dust themselves. Mercifully, between maintaining the spell and evading the licks from the unicorn, Janaxia was silent, Hakara still examining the iron crown wound around the horn as they made their way back through the woods.

As they returned to the palace, Fionarasa was waiting for them, a small group of servants arrayed behind her. When she saw the condition of the unicorn, wounded and fettered, dark magic wreathing its horn, she tutted and shook her head. Janaxia released the magic, sagging with a loud sigh, falling back against a wall with an exaggerated swoon. As soon as she did so, the unicorn started acting up, trying to break out of the chains, head swinging to and fro, horn moving dangerously fast. Fionarasa was able to sooth it somewhat, although Stathis held her back from removing the fetters, just in case the damn thing tried to escape.

‘When you do your thing, that opens the seal right away, doesn’t it?’

‘Yes, Hauleni Stathis. Of surety, if thou couldst slay the Songstress afore the seal is opened, to prevent it fleeing this place, then safety is assured. I will house the noble key close by the chamber, so that he may unlock the seal when needed. Dost thou wish to rest? The night draws close, when the Songstress shall emerge once more, and must be defeated.’

‘Yeah, about that. I’m going to take two of my team and deal with her, the others are going to go try and wake the dragon and get that to help. Seriously, if you’ve got anything that can help, this is really the time to let us know. Or if any of you can fight or help out at all, it would be appreciated.’

‘My apologies, Hauleni Stathis, but I bear no secrets. What weapons we had, were used long since, and we lack training in such martial skills. I know not of this dragon, it must have penetrated the seal but been captured by the curse, trapped within eternal shell of stone.’

Hakara spoke, having managed to catch her breath. ‘From the size, it would be an adult. Red, I think, although I can’t be sure. It was fighting something. It must have come in from outside, and managed to get inside the seal, but then been petrified by the mist before disrupting the spell. Maybe it was fighting the banshee?’

‘Such a creature is unlikely to be friend, but, in darkness, light may be found amidst strange places. I wouldst advise caution, but such things may be what is needed. If not, then ‘tis likely we shall all perish soon anyway.’ A pillar was surrounded by a misty haze, crunching apart into dust, nothing left but a few shadowy wisps, drifting on the breeze. ‘Time grows heavy and short, Hauleni Stathis. There are supplies you may have, to eat on the move. Is there aught else thou desires?’

‘There’s a lot I desire, but that you can help with? Probably not much. Sorry, that’s a bit grim, isn’t it. OK, some food. Hakara, Janaxia, rest up, you’ve not got long before we head out again. Parth, Semari, you know what to do. Fionarasa, if you can take the unicorn and get ready to do whatever you need to do.’

Janaxia was currently slumped, rather melodramatically on a bench, fanning herself. The cat approached, positioning itself for some light stroking, mewing in pleasure as Janaxia indulged it. The gemstone on its head sparked with an inner fire. That spell must have taken a lot out of her, although probably not quite as much as she pretended. Hakara was uninjured, but tired-looking, clearly unused to the amount of exercise she’d had to endure walking around.

From the height of the sun, they didn’t have long until sundown. Wolfing down some elven biscuits restored some energy, as Parth and Semari prepared for their own journey.

‘Hakara, Janaxia, we’re going to try and fight that banshee. The normal skeletons are slow, I can probably hold off a few of them. You two need to get whatever your biggest blasts are and use those on the banshee. Just don’t catch me! Hakara, you got any fire stuff, or just that ice spell?’

‘I am able to summon darts of fire, although they are quite minor attacks.’

‘Well, it’s a start. Actually, Fionarasa, have you got any booze? Really strong stuff. Not as good as spells, but whatever we can get is going to be useful.’

From her sour expression, Fionarasa didn’t approve of impromptu firebombs any more than she cared for their treatment of the unicorn. ‘I am sure something can be found. Some of the inferior stocks, perhaps.’

Stathis turned back to the others. ‘OK, anyone have any other questions?’ Janaxia had recovered enough to be sitting up, softly speaking to the cat as she stroked it. Semari was battered, but still energetic. ‘Hakara? You still good? Rest while you can, we don’t have much time.’

‘Yes. Thank you.’ She was still panting for breath, face red from exertion. ‘Please let me know what I need to do.’

‘Stay back, don’t die. Keep your large spells for the banshee. Ever thrown a Molotov before? Make sure to get a good pitch on them, and try not to set yourself on fire. Janaxia, put the cat down and listen.’

Both of them glared at her, Janaxia whispering something to the cat, Stathis just close enough to hear her own name mentioned, before Janaxia shifted the cat in her lap and continued to stroke it, giving a patently false smile. ‘And what is my role in this grand plan?’

‘Look after Hakara, blast the skeletons so I don’t have to deal with them, and see if your weird stuff works on the banshee. If not, smack them with your magic stick thing. Everyone, load up with booze, and let’s try not to die.’

Parth gave a grim smile. ‘Death to bind death.’

If that was intended to be reassuring, it really wasn’t. No-one else seemed to have noticed though, Janaxia still talking to the cat, Hakara gasping for breath, Semari and Parth wolfing down food. The sun wasn’t far off setting, and then the place would be crawling with the ghosts, and there’d be no time for second chances. She uttered a quiet prayer to the setting sun, that they would somehow get through this.