The crew helped to clean the deck, pulling out the most broken planks and starting to repair them, as Stathis headed below-decks. The air down here was thick and clammy, the crew having ducked out of the way and barricaded themselves as best they could as soon as the attack had happened, fear-sweat thick in the air.

Janaxia’s cabin was easy to spot, with darkness oozing under the door, a shadow behaving like liquid, slowly fading as the light from Stathis’ lantern struck it. She paused, listening for any unearthly chants or ghostly whispers, but all she could hear was the creaking of the ship and the sounds of work and effort from above.

She knocked on the door, the sound seeming to echo oddly. Hopefully Janaxia hadn’t somehow turned her cabin into an extra-dimensional palace or something! ‘I’ve bought some wine, and some food.’

Was it her imagination, or did the darkness change to throb less ominously? She pushed on the door, feeling a force push back before fading away and letting her in.

The whole room was cast into shadows, anything not directly in the light vanishing into thick black. Janaxia was sat on the bed, her dress now fully regal, silk and brocade woven through with silver thread, a ruby necklace glinting with crimson smokiness around her neck, another gem in her navel, nails longer than Stathis had ever seen before. The effect was somewhat undercut by the surroundings – a ship’s bed, bolted to the wall, with thin sheets, Janaxia’s back supported by a tatty pillow.

Skotadi was there as well, sat on a chair with her legs drawn up beneath her, the darkness of her dress merging with the deep shadows of the room to make it look like she was emerging from a deep puddle of night. Her dress wasn’t as showy or as voluptuous as Janaxia’s, some account apparently being taken of Skotadi’s age (if it matched her physical form), and they both had their matching shackles still, the ugly metal giving a stark contrast to the otherwise elegant dresses.

Janaxia stared at her, lash throbbing, green eyes hard, without saying anything until Stathis broke the silence.

‘Thanks for helping out.’ Stathis held out the bottle of wine, magical force snatching it from her hand and conveying it across the room. ‘It’s not the best, but it was all that I could find on the island.’

Hmmm. Well, it is certainly better than anything else available. This is certainly not the style in which I prefer to travel!

‘Well, maybe don’t kill me then!’ The look on Janaxia’s face got even frostier, a thin veil forming from a coronet and falling down to cover her face. ‘Sorry, still high from the battle. Now, I need to check that you’ve not been injured at all. Those things seem to have some infectious touch or something.’

Janaxia twisted, showing that her dress was – of course – largely backless, a smooth sweep of skin visible save for some silver threads, probably for ornamentation rather than to hold it together. There was a purple-ish bruise just barely visible, emerging from a covered shoulder.

‘Let me see. I need to check if you’re infected at all. We’ve already had to clean Kivata, before stuff started growing on her skin.’

A likely story! This seems a deceit intended to merely to place me at some disadvantage. And tending to Kita first seems rather poor judgment.

‘Just to check, you can actually talk, right?’ Janaxia glared at her. ‘OK, fair enough. It’s just a bit unnerving only ever hearing you in here.’ She tapped her forehead. ‘Anyway, Kivata was close by, you scuttled off down here.’ She glanced over at Skotadi – given she’d eaten the magical gemstone, she was probably either immune to the infection, or was the centre of it now. Or both! Her face was a neutral expression, a not-entirely successful imitation of Janaxia’s own vaguely-regal gaze. She wasn’t glowing with yellow energy or turning into a disease monster, although the way she was sitting suggested that a piece of her corsetry was poking into her in a rather uncomfortable place, or she had indigestion.

“Scuttled” seems rather rude! I move with gravitas, poise and elegance, at all times.

‘Well, you could have stayed on deck with gravitas, poise and elegance so I could check if you were infected at all.’ Stathis moved forward, hoping that the decking wouldn’t swallow her up.

Hmmmpph. A corkscrew of dark magic stabbed itself into the cork before winding it out, unsealing the wine. As there were no glasses, Stathis was treated to the jarring sight of Janaxia, in full regalia, raising the winebottle to her lips and drinking down a measure. Stathis watched her closely, wondering if she would notice that Pajaran had blessed the liquid.

She held it up, dark energy conveying it over to Skotadi. ‘Now, you must drink without guzzling. A glass would, of course, be preferable, but we are in rather benighted circumstances, and so must endure as best we can.’

Skotadi gave it a sniff, before raising it to her lips and carefully pouring it, the dark liquid slapping around in the bottle as she took lots of small, sharp swallows.

‘I think that will suffice.’

Skotadi obeyed, putting the bottle aside, her features a touch flushed – well, if she hadn’t drunk wine much before, then it would probably hit fast. She ducked in a deep breath before using magic to pass the bottle back, the thing wobbling slightly as it passed through the air.

‘So, Janaxia, do you want me to check on you, or…?’

Janaxia took a long gulp herself, before suddenly standing up, wobbling as the ship tilted suddenly. ‘You may tend to me.’ She spread her arms, her clothing starting to fade and vanish, except, inexplicably, the veil over her face. The golden choker emerged from beneath layers of material, Janaxia’s inert tattoo slowly appearing as her dress faded away.

‘I, uh, wasn’t expecting quite that much!’

Skotadi reached for the wine again, Janaxia shakily passing it back over. Was she drunk already? It was only a bottle, she should be able to manage that much! Although perhaps the ugly mottling was having an effect? It wasn’t as spreading as quickly as it had on Kivata – Janaxia had likely gotten a smaller dosage or was protecting herself with other magic. It still looked painful and unpleasant though, a dank and dirty mottling on her skin.

Stathis made a show of inspecting Janaxia’s body – she looked healthy enough, although her tattoo appeared entirely normal. If it hadn’t been for Skotadi, looking on with what seemed to be excessive interest, it might have been pleasant, but the girl’s eyes bored into Stathis, seeming weirdly interested, which in some ways was worse than overt hostility. It didn’t seem as though she was overtly hostile, just really creepy, without Janaxia’s social skills or graces.

Both of them were looking more than slightly tipsy, Janaxia’s cheeks flushed, her body now naked except for the choker and the veil, emerald-green eyes staring at her in some sort of challenge.

The mottled bruise was growing, dark veins spreading out and tainting Janaxia’s flesh an unhealthy yellow tinge, and so Stathis stepped forward and took hold of Janaxia’s shoulder. Her flesh felt normal and warm and firm, although she did wince slightly at the contact.

‘I’m going to try and heal it now.’

Janaxia shifted about, almost preening and pressing herself against Stathis’ hand. Skotadi made an odd sound, half-way between a purr and a hiss, but the wine seemed to be hitting her hard, a dozy grin covering her face. If she was an eldritch abomination, then she was a lightweight one! Stathis channeled her power, sunlight glowing around her fingers. Janaxia’s flesh suddenly felt cold and brittle, some force sucking at her power, draining and drawing it from her, a cold settling into her own body, her fingers tightening against her will.

Janaxia gave a bizarrely happy wriggle and smiled, the mottled marks receding and fading away, as Stathis grabbed at her own wrist and managed to wrench her arm away, Janaxia’s eyes blinking shut in apparent pleasure. Stathis shook her hand, pressing it against her face to try and warm her fingers up – they felt frozen, like she had been pressing her hand against a block of ice!

‘Mmmm, thank you. I suppose you do have some use, after all.’

Skotadi hickuped, then giggled, worryingly sharp teeth on display before finishing off her wine, downing it in one. Janaxia tutted. ‘Skotadi! A lady sips, she does not gulp! Although this vintage does seem rather more potent than expected. May I dress myself, or are you planning any further degradations upon my flesh?’

‘I don’t think I’ve “degraded” your flesh yet! I died last time, remember? And I don’t think I’m technically fully alive still? Or I’m a spiritual projection or something.’ Janaxia’s eyes narrowed, and Stathis hastily changed the subject. ‘So are you training Skotadi?’

A soft snoring came Skotadi, her legs drawn up beneath her, dress formed into a soft cocoon around herself, lost in a wine-addled sleep. Not wholly surprising, given her small size, and it would make the conversation easier without her as an audience.

‘She, at least, acknowledges my mastery of the magical arts. And pays attention to what I have to say.’

‘It’s hard to pay attention to you when you spend all your time cooped up in here. Can’t be good for your complexion, and it would be nice to see more of you on deck. And stop the crew gossiping that you’re some sort of demon-witch.’

Hmph. The petty fears of the working man are scarcely my concern.

Stathis slowly reached out and touched a horn, rubbing her nail along it to produce a bzzzt sound – although they looked shaped from obsidian now, they still had the same bony ridges as before. ‘These things do stand out about! Very distinctive, and they look good with jewellery hanging off them, but you’re probably lucky most people assume they’re ornaments.’ She glanced over at Skotadi, now barely visible amongst her clothing – given that her clothing was probably magically summoned as well, she must at least be good enough to maintain it when unconscious. ‘So, uh, what’s her story? Semari thinks you’re related.’

Her blood was overthrown and scattered to the winds.

‘Um, would you mind using your voice? Your real voice? It’s nice to hear, at least, rather than just in my head.’ Stathis smiled at Janaxia, giving a horn a final rub before withdrawing and leaning on the wall, as Janaxia’s clothing began to reassemble itself, spinning itself out of nothingness. Although now it was a lighter, gauzier robe, more relaxed and intimate.

‘Hmph. I suppose I shall indulge you. Those cultists – who, if I must remind you – were dedicated to your worship, had kidnapped her as another sacrifice to their deity – namely, you – and so it is fortunate that she was saved.’

Stathis wondered if it would be worth pointing out that it had been herself that had done the saving, but given that Janaxia was still stiff and suspicious-looking, probably not. ‘They’re not mine, they think I’m a false prophet or god or whatever. If I’d known about them, I would have dealt with them already.’ The green eyes narrowed, as Stathis changed the subject again. ‘The thing is, I don’t remember her being there at all. I can remember saving you, but not anyone else being there. And that massive demon that was all chained up vanished – I didn’t kill it, nor did any of the others, so…’ She trailed off, as Skotadi gave a drunken, dozy giggle and shifted in her chair, wriggling herself into a more comfortable position.

‘So you accuse her of being a demon? That seems entirely baseless, but I suppose I should expect nothing less from you!’

‘She’s a bit eldritch, isn’t she? And she does the same magic you can do – I’m just worried she might be something other than a lost princess. How are you teaching her? You’re not massively strong on the theory, like Hakara is.’

The green eyes narrowed to slits – that had definitely been the wrong thing to say. She is, like myself, something of a natural adept, able to intuitively grasp the weaves of magical essence required and draw out natural power from them.

Skotadi was slowly fading in and out of sight in time with her soft breaths, body vanishing and reappearing, the effect making Stathis feel mildly nauseous. She reached out and gently touched Skotadi, her body still there as it faded from sight.

You see? Fading into the shadows by attuning herself to their magic. A far more advanced technique than the invisibility spells Hakara can manage.

‘Yeah, but she’s unconscious. That’s a bit unusual, isn’t it? Most wizards need to focus and concentrate to do their magic – I think even you need to do that when you’re remaking your clothing and stuff. So where is her kingdom? Is she going to try and retake it?’

She may do. She has two siblings she seeks, likewise scattered to the world, and wishes to prove her primacy over them first.

‘Sounds like a messed-up family. Although, on that note, is there anything we need to do about your family? Your Mother is stirring up a lot of trouble, and I doubt she’s happy about you, especially if she finds out I’m not quite as dead as she thought. Any idea what she’s up to?’

Janaxia shivered, then took another gulp of wine as she tried to hide her reaction, her clothing rippling into more solid form. ‘She… she seeks ancient power. But to what end…’ Her voice trailed off, suddenly weak.

‘Did she… do anything to you?’

Janaxia drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around them protectively, although her face didn’t betray any emotion. ‘I was ordered to go to Belazaan to seek out ancient artefacts. And that certainly seemed a safer choice than staying, as I believe there may be a certain amount of in-fighting.’ Her lash suddenly throbbed, a red tinge of light making the room uncomfortably blood-tinged. ‘The stranger. She appears to have influence and power, and be inciting some internal conflict.’ Her voice was low and quiet, Stathis moving closer to hear.

‘Mind if I sit with you?’ Janaxia made a soft grunting sound, but didn’t say no, so Stathis sat on the bed and leaned against the wall. ‘Who’s this “stranger” then? Some demon-lord or something?’

‘I think they were entirely corporeal, although they appeared rather… fluid of form. Their skin appeared to shift and flow in a way that was rather disconcerting to see and didn’t seem entirely voluntary on their part. Perhaps the result of a transformation spell gone wrong?’

‘So why would your mother listen to them? Poratia’s not got the reputation of working with other people, except for being the one in charge that gives all the orders.’

‘I couldn’t say. But she appears to have unearthed some ancient artefact and built a new wing onto the house to accommodate it and keep it protected and warded, at no little expense.’

Stathis took a risk, and shifted slightly closer, until she was sat next to Janaxia, and then topped up her wine. She seemed a little more relaxed now, and less bristly and spiky. ‘What was it?’

‘An enchanted sword. Kept behind a significant amount of magical wardings and other protective spells, set to orientate both ways – so to protect those outside from whatever it can do, as well as protect the blade from outside interference.’

‘Maybe a demon-blade? I’ve heard of them. Although if you don’t touch them, they’re not normally too bad. Like that one we found near Redcastle, which was more annoying than anything else.’

‘It seemed inert. Old and strangely made, and quite unwieldy looking – a two-handed blade, if I am any judge, far larger than your weapon. It appeared as though it had been experimented on and used as the source for material. I would surmise it has some ability to repair itself.’

‘So it could regrow or something? That’s unusual. Even magical swords normally need repairing, and that takes a lot of work, finding the right materials, and a smith that can do it. Or subcontract out to the dwarven craftholds, but they charge a lot, even for minor dings and scrapes. Any idea what it was all for? A magical sword doesn’t really seem of much help to a bunch of necromancers, I can’t imagine they need to stab many people, so it must be for something more than just being used as a weapon, right?’

Janaxia took a big sip from her wine, swilling it around the glass contemplatively. ‘Indeed. I very much doubt it will be employed as a martial weapon. But Kita appeared quite terrified of it, and when I attempted to question her, some form of spiritual binding prevented her talking.’ She gave a theatrical shudder, the motion doing interesting things to her clothing, hair spilling over a now-bare shoulder. ‘I do not think I am similarly bound, although did have to suffer a rather unpleasant interview with her, which I do not recall the entirety of.’

‘So you think you might have been soul-whammied? Is there any way to tell?’

There was a very long pause before Janaxia answered, face downcast and hidden behind her hair, red lash faded to virtually nothing. ‘I… I believe my spirit is strong enough to resist such things? And I have encountered no circumstances under which my behaviour has been compelled. And such a compulsion would not be a subtle thing, given my Mother’s powers and proclivities.’

‘Is it trying to dispel the magic on you? If it’s spiritual, then maybe Pajaran could look. Although she’s better at hitting things with magic, rather than the more esoteric stuff.’

Janaxia stiffened, clothing rustling. Hmm. I would rather not have my soul rummaged around in. Although… thank you for your concern.

‘Does your sister need checking out as well? If there is stuff like that going on, then Kivata is likely to have had it far worse, isn’t she?’

Perhaps she could be the test subject?

‘Please don’t talk about your sister like that – she probably had it rough. She still flinches away from pretty much anything as it is, and Hakara’s not exactly strict with her or anything. She’s like someone from a war, I think she’s been through a lot.’

Janaxia gave a mental sniff of dismissal but made a barely-perceptible shift closer to Stathis, her hair now brushing against Stathis’ shoulder. It was like coaxing a barely-tame cat into coming close! Stathis managed to resist the temptation to tickle Janaxia under the chin, not wanting to get blasted through the wall in response.

‘If you think she might be under some magical effect, I’ll ask Hakara and Pajaran to have a look at her. Between the two of them, then I’m sure they can figure it out, if there is anything going on.’

Janaxia finished off her wine in a single gulp, ignoring her own advice, her cheeks reddening even more. That may be wise. She is a weak and useless wretch, but it would be inconvenient if she were compelled to turn traitor. I believe I have her sufficiently cowed she would not do it willingly, but her fear of Mother may be greater than her fear of me.

‘You shouldn’t be trying to make her afraid.’ There was a scraping sound, as Janaxia’s head slid along the wall, a horn leaving a gouge mark in the wood, her eyes barely open. ‘People are a lot easier to work with if they actually like you, and you’re open and trusting.’

Janaxia managed to force her eyes open, squinting blearily at Stathis. As you were open with myself? I think I will take my rest now.

Impenetrable darkness blossomed and filled the room, leaving Stathis entirely blind. ‘Yes, fine, I’m sorry! Again.’

Silence, except for two sets of soft breathing. Had Janaxia fallen asleep already? She reached out and found a horn, using that to find the rest of Janaxia’s body and push her into a more comfortable sleeping position, so she was at least laid out on the bed. Then she left, having to feel her way along the cabin walls until she found the exit, thankful to leave the abyssal darkness. Janaxia had seemed less frosty, hopefully she would continue to unthaw!