Stathis tried not to yawn, exhausted from having done not much, simply rotating onto the walls and off again, too tense to sleep. Then night had fallen, and Herith had come with orders for a night raid, Semari, Parth and Stathis to scout the darkness and attack the enemy camp during the night. Vrintar had volunteered herself, probably, showing up as they were standing on the wall, axes at the ready.

Hakara had used a spell to lower Stathis over the wall, while Semari had carried Parth, and Vrintar had simply dropped the distance, thudding to the ground. They were all visible as dim shapes in the twilight, except for Parth, who was somewhere in the greenery, scouting ahead. Stathis tried to focus her senses, but all she could feel was Janaxia, back in the castle.

‘Semari, you see anything?’

‘Nah, too dark. Stars look pretty though.’

Stathis glanced up – Semari was right, the stars were brilliantly bright and clear, the constellations easy to pick out amongst the black sky, the three moons all in different phases. ‘Great. Try to stay focused. We want to get in, find whatever is in that camp, hopefully wreck it or grab it depending, and then get out. We don’t want to get bogged down, we don’t want to get in a fight at all if we can avoid it. Vrintar, same for you.’

Vrintar grunted and nodded then slipped into the darkness, fading from vision. Stathis began picking her way through the darkness, trying to weave between the undead and whatever senses they had, while also staying hidden from any mundane watchers. With her armour on, it was slow going, not helped by Semari moving around with irritating grace and silence, especially when they had to crawl along a stream, Stathis feeling the water starting to soak through her armour, into her clothing.

They crawled out onto the road, the swirling darkness now just ahead of them. This close, it drowned out the usual piercing sense of Janaxia’s presence, an entirely different sense of doom, this one entirely weaker and more normal-seeming, at least by the standards of “magical doom”. A fetid slapping of dried flesh was all the warning they had as a zombie walked out of the darkness, shambling towards them. Stathis drew and sliced – the body fell in half at the waist, then Semari kicked straight through it, desiccated organs falling to the ground, leathered flesh bursting.

Stathis ducked back down onto the slope, dragging the legs back with her, tossing them into the long grass. The skin was leathery and dry, the whole body preserved and dried. That was probably better than fresh-killed, at least. Semari grabbed an arm from the upper body and yanked, pulling the thing out of sight. Stathis looked at the body – there was still hair there, golden-white, with pointed ears. An elven body? Where had that come from?

Parth ghosted out of the darkness then crouched by the body, whispering something under her breath, the words soft and liquid, before closing its eyes. Without saying anything else, she rose and turned, fading back into the shadows.

They waited in the dark, ears sharp in case of any other patrollers. There was a steady, rhythmic thudding as a group of undead walked past, feet moving in simultaneous steps. The air was heavy with the scent of faded herbs and old, dried flesh, a rancid perfume. Semari looked at Stathis, who shook her head, until the movement went away.

Then it was time to advance again. There was no sign of Vrintar, but she was better at sneaking through the wilderness than Stathis. She approached the edge of the darkness, visible in the night as a blacker mist, the stars invisible through it, then took a deep breath and stepped forward. It felt like stepping into an icy waterfall, chill spray against her skin, but compared to Janaxia’s darkness, it could be seen through, somewhat, and lacked the viciously biting cold. And no acid-spewing tendrils either!

They moved forward, Stathis’ blade at the ready. Faint chanting came from somewhere ahead, words Stathis didn’t understand. But at least Stathis could remember the words afterwards, an entire sect of Janaxia’s was more than she was ready to handle! She felt a presence behind her and whirled, ready to strike as Vrintar stepped from the shadows.

‘Parth nearby?’

Vrintar nodded.

‘Good. You ready?’

She pulled out her axes, holding them ready.

‘Try and keep it quiet, remember? If we have to fight everything, it probably won’t end well.’ A blade cut the air, along with an angry grunt. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll get plenty of chances to smash stuff. Just keep it quiet for now.’

They moved passed a wagon, the wood inscribed with silver runes, all icy-cold to the touch. Semari punched at one, an aura of dark energy appearing, draining the force from her strike. Whoever these people were, they had come well-equipped. Each wagon was well-made; tough and reinforced wood, the windows behind metal shutters.

They were probably near the centre of the darkness, the air chill. Semari kept disappearing and the returning, scouting into the darkness, reporting that there were more of the wagons, a few skeletons on guard, passive and unmoving. She was holding an arm, held together with leather straps and nails, shaking it at Stathis until Stathis grabbed it and tossed it away. Barely visible in the darkness, a robed figure sat on a wooden box ahead of them, reading a book by holding it close to their face, blocking their vision and making it easy to sneak past.

Stathis gestured at the wagon, wooden steps leading to the door. A black symbol curled and twisted over the wood, some protective magic in place, spiked rune-shapes warding off the uninvited. Semari shrugged at her, until Stathis raised a hand to her ear, Semari nodding, moving forward and putting her ear against the door. She hissed in pain, the magic flickering with silver light, shards of ice appearing around her ear, sticking it to the door. She tried pulling away, stretching the skin now attached to the door. Stathis leaned forward, feeling the cold, rigid flesh. ‘Sorry.’ She pulled Semari’s head back, tearing the skin and blood welling up, as Stathis healed the wound, cupping her hand to hide the momentary flare of sunlight.

‘Ow! That hurt. And that was mean, Stathis!’

‘Did you hear anything?’

‘Just, like, a rushing sound? And it’s really cold!’

‘OK. Let’s go. In, grab it, out. If it goes to shit, try and meet back at the castle, otherwise head into rough terrain, try and stay alive and the skeletons and zombies probably won’t chase too far. We ready?’ Hopefully Parth was somewhere nearby – with the aura of darkness, then she wouldn’t be able to see far, even with her elven vision.

Stathis focused energy into her sword, then thrust at the doorway before it got too bright. The sword met resistance in midair, a curve of black light flickering into being before collapsing under the attack with a “crack”, her sword then biting into the wood. She twisted, stabbing forward and cutting through the rune, the enchanted blade easily slicing through the wood, cutting towards the handle. The rune faded as she pulled the blade back, opening the door up and stepping inside.

The wagon couldn’t be more than seven paces long and even less wide, but it was impossible to see. The light shining from her sword only illuminated a patch around her, showing her a plain wood floor, the same above her. The darkness twisted and broiled like it was alive, her light being crushed beneath it, being swallowed up.

The others crashed in behind her, pushing her forward and away from the door. An axe cut through the air, without hitting anything. Stathis’ foot brushed against something – she glanced down to find a plate of bone or ivory, the pearlescent material inscribed with glyphs. She picked it up, projecting her energy into it, until it was glowing. She threw it forward, the pool of light around herself growing, splitting, showing her a momentary glimpse of more of the inside, a flash of a stone altar topped with pitted iron, supporting a head-sized purple sphere, power flowing inside, a pale face looking at her in surprise. And then the light vanished, the darkness powerful enough that the separate light sources couldn’t overpower it

‘Attackers! Attackers in the camp!’

The shout came from somewhere ahead of them. Stathis tried to step forward, Semari and Vrintar having the same idea, the three of them colliding together in a crash of bodies and metal.

‘They’re in here!’

Stathis managed to pull herself out of the crash, moving forward again, the light from her blade now illuminating the edge of the altar. The sphere was suspended by magic, but the purple contents refracted and warped the sunlight Stathis was shedding, turning it into a tainted miasma. A robed figure, hood down to show messy hair around a young, pale face, gawped at her. Fingers bent into arcane shapes, a dart of power flicking out. Stathis parried it, then moved forward, cutting back. They tried to defend themselves, raising their arms to protect themselves, her blade smashing into thin skin, bone shattering. They screamed in pain, an axe flying through the air and embedding itself into their head. They fell backwards, out of sight, disappearing from view.

The darkness felt thicker and more oppressive now, the cold coming in waves and pulses, like a steady, rasping breath, in and out. There were sounds from outside as well, cries of alarm.

‘Shit. Time to grab the orb, let’s get out of here.’

Semari nodded and moved against the opposite wall, settling her stance, taking a deep breath and then slamming an attack out, twisting her fist into the wall. The wood buckled under the impact, and she attacked again, twisting into the blow. Stathis grabbed the orb, feeling her gauntlet starting to grow chill, condensation already forming on the metal. Then Vrintar attacked the wall with enough force to smash through one of the planks, flicking her wrist to pull her weapon back, then attacking again, splinters exploding out.

Between the two of them, it only took a few moments to shred the wall enough for Vrintar to pass through, Semari following. The cold was starting to sear through the gauntlet now, Stathis’ flesh tingling. She glanced down, and could see that whatever was inside the thing, it was now moving, a tiny storm of purple, hissing and spitting, water condensing from the air. It felt like glass, albeit icy-cold, but hopefully was far tougher!

The darkness made the footing treacherous, especially at speed. They heard chanting behind them, Stathis glancing back to see a robed figure on the edge of sight, mid-spell, before an arrows sank into them, Parth finally lending some aid. A zombie loomed in front of them, Stathis awkwardly moving her shield to block a strike, the coldness now biting deep into her flesh. Her sunlight-wrapped blade cleaved through it with a single strike, skin and bones fading into dust. She shook her hand, trying to regain some warmth – the orb was frozen in place, inside a chunk of ice, not moving at all. The contents were even angrier now, bubbling and popping inside the sphere, as they made their escape.

With the bulk of the camp behind them, it was too dangerous to head back directly. They retreated backwards, smashing through small groups of undead they encountered, making short work of the disorganised rabble. Then something larger loomed out of the darkness, a pillar of metal the same size as Stathis almost knocking her back. It stretched up higher than she could see in the darkness, another thing of similar size close by.

Then she was tackled from behind, tumbling to the ground as Vrintar knocked her over, a massive pillar of metal smashing through the place she had been standing. Semari charged in, punching at the thing with a full-force strike, a metal plate clanging from the impact. She managed to duck as that huge pillar struck again, hitting the ground with enough force to send up clods of stone and dirt.

Vrintar growled, pulling out her axes. The symbols etched onto her skin glowed with power for a moment, pale red energy limning her body, and then she attacked with her full power. There was no caution or thought for defence, just powerful, scything arcs of wrath, her axes slamming against the thing, slicing into the metal plates which screeched, metal against metal, before buckling. Stathis managed to regain her feet, the cold now prickling up her arm, hand going numb.

Semari jumped out of sight, scrabbling up the body of the thing, a giant torso now barely visible above them – the body of a giant, reinforced with metal and raised as undead. The pillar, a huge club of metal, swung again, Stathis just about able to shield her eyes from the explosion of shrapnel. Vrintar made the bare minimum effort to evade and caught part of the backlash, blood oozing from her wounds. Where it touched her marks, they started to burn, fiery red light getting brighter.

From above came a grunt of effort and the sound of impact, hopefully Semari attacking. Stathis charged herself, targeting the leg Vrintar had attacked, seeing pale grey flesh beneath the shattered metal. Daylight burnt from her blade, the shadows retreating for a moment. Her attack bit deep, only stopped by the bone beneath the dried, dead skin. Beside her, Vrintar’s face was drawn and taut, a terrifying grin on her face as she stepped forward to attack again, a rapid smashing of axes against armour plates, the metal buckling under the impact.

A pain-wracked face suddenly shot towards her, a loose shape of ethereal energy, bony hands outstretched. It passed through her, icy cold, nail-scratches against her soul, before vanishing into the darkness again. She felt woozy now, but attacked the leg in unison with Vrintar, the leg starting to give way. Behind them, they heard the chanting of a spell, razor-sharp lashes of darkness leaping from out of sight, wrapping around Stathis’ shield and biting into the wood. There was a worrying creaking from the leg, metal starting to give way. ‘Semari, time to move! This thing’s about to topple.’

Vrintar growled and attacked again, precisely targeting where she had smashed through the metal before, hewing through the dead flesh. It tried to take a step, the leg now barely intact, the remaining metal breaking and bending under the weight. It fell forward, Stathis pulling at Vrintar. ‘Come on! It should block their vision for a bit!’

The woman’s body was burning hot, a heat haze forming above her skin. Mercifully, her battletrance didn’t seem to limit her thought, as she nodded, moving forward. Semari jumped down, appearing from the darkness, and they ran. The other two easily outpaced Stathis, clearly having to limit themselves to let her keep up. The cold was getting even worse, her hand completely numb, gauntlet encased in ice, the numbness now all the way up to her shoulder. Behind them there was only darkness, although from the sounds, of massed feet on the ground, chanting and the arcane snap of arcane energy, their foes probably weren’t far behind.

Stathis tried to move her fingers, using some of her power to heal them, the warmth only momentary before the cold started to penetrate and bite again.

‘We’re all the way out the other side, aren’t we? So it’s back through, or around. Vrintar, is it possible to get around? For someone in full armour, more specifically, you and Semari are going to find it easy.’

Her markings were still glowing, although with less brightness and heat now. She paused, then nodded, before looking at the ice enveloping Stathis’ hand with concern. Stathis raised her hand to show it more clearly – the purple sphere was now wrapped in a clump of ice a hand thick. Hopefully not everfrost! Vrintar drew an arm back, hacking at the ice with an axe, a lump of the stuff falling to the ground, Stathis’ arm getting knocked back by the impact.

‘Easy there! Tell me if you’re going to do something like that. Remember, we need to keep this thing intact, otherwise bad stuff happens. Semari, help me unstrap the gauntlet, at least that way we can take turns.’ She held her arm up again, the fingers of her other hand too clumsy to get it off quickly. Semari managed it, the thing falling to the ground, Stathis flexing her hand, trying to will it towards warmth, blowing on it. ‘We’re going to have to take turns carrying the damn thing. What have we got we can wrap it in? It was bad enough through armour, it’s going to hurt skin.’

Semari picked it up, immediately hissing in pain and trying to drop it, the sphere sticking to her skin. She shook her hand, harder and harder, until the sphere shook loose, ripping loose skin with it, falling to the ground.

‘Owww!’

‘That’s why I said not to pick it up!’

Vrintar pulled out a fur wrap and bundled it around the sphere, the material immediately stiffening as it froze, ice forming on it.

‘That works. If it starts to hurt, let us know, and one of us will take it for a while.’

Vrintar nodded, then gestured at what looked like a sheer cliff ahead of them, indicating that they needed to climb. Stathis groaned, her hand still aching and sore, armour chill. ‘No chance of a path?’

Vrintar pointed at a tiny track, almost invisible and almost vertical. Semari was already scampering up the cliff face directly, as Stathis sighed. ‘Fine, let’s get moving.’ Behind them, all that could be seen was darkness, a thick haze blocking sight, sounds of chaos still flowing through the night.