Birds flew from their roosts among the trees as the baleful note of a hunting horn sounded out somewhere in the forest, setting Atri’s soul on the edge. His horse stamped impatiently as the other mounted men and ladies around them clutched their weapons excitedly. Atri glanced down at the musket in his hand and regarded it with suspicion. It had been a while since he’d fired a weapon he hadn’t loaded himself, but this was an official hunt, and there was etiquette to be followed.

“The huntmaster said there ought to be plenty of deer for us today,” Baron Vilnist said. He was well dressed like everyone else and in a jovial mood. His wife and daughter were also nearby and like him, mounted and each armed with a musket.

“That’s good to hear,” Atri allowed uneasily. He had told Doriny’s father of his intention to marry his daughter the night before. The baron seemed pleased at the time and invited him to this hunt that had already been planned. However, accidents at hunts weren’t uncommon…

“I must say, I’ve not seen many forests as rich with game as these,” Atri remarked.

The baron beamed with pride. “These forests are well tended to, and my people respect it. Treat your peasants fairly and they won’t have to resort to poaching, is what I’ve often told anyone who cares to listen.”

“I hope he’s found a boar,” Doriny said excitedly, “do you think we’ll see the Earl today?”

Atri niv Markvist, Earl of Mallingar raised an eyebrow, and the baron laughed. “She means Earl One Eye, the largest boar we’ve ever seen. They call him the lord of these woods.”

“They say he weighs as much as two adult men,” Doriny said, wide-eyed, “and is almost as tall as I am.”

Another horn sounded. It was closer this time, and the excitement of the gathered nobles increased.

“My lords and ladies, if you would please spread out into a line,” called out one of the huntsmen, “our quarry will be coming past shortly.”

The gathered nobles, almost twenty in all, did as they were told, keeping their firmly eyes on the trees to their left.

“This is rather like preparing for a battle, isn’t it?” a chubby rosy-cheeked youth of twelve asked. The musket in his arms seemed almost comically large.

“Speaking of battle, I hear Renfy has mobilized her armies,” Vilnist remarked. The joviality in his voice was gone.

“Well, they did warn the Haroways, and Vetory,” Atri allowed.

“Siaro is alarmed. They think Renfy will overrun Vetory easily,” the baron continued.

“Well, the Vetorian military are no pushovers, but they won’t be able to contend with Renfy’s numbers,” Atri said carefully, “and I can see why Siaro are disappointed. No one will come to the Haroway’s aid now, but Benatia will never allow Siaro to march through their lands to get a piece of Vetory for themselves.”

The baron’s eyes flicked to Atri. “Do you think that all the Siarons care about is not being able to carve a portion of Vetory out for themselves?”

Atri nodded. “That’s not all, however. If Renfy annexes Vetory, it will greatly upset the Continent’s balance of power.”

“That much is true,” the baron sighed, “if Vetory is made part of a Renfian Empire, I fear Gothria will be placed in a perilous position indeed.”

“Even if Gothria were united, what action could we take?” Atri asked with a lowered voice, conscious that many among the Gothrian nobility opposed unification, “we could hardly defend Vetory or the Haroways.”

“If I were in charge, I’d cross the Rovedin and descend on Calfuria like Blanivus himself,” Vilnist said without hesitation, “absorb Vetory into Greater Gothria and establish ourselves as the undisputed great power in the Central Continent.”

Atri’s jaw dropped at the baron saying such things out loud. Vilnist smirked at his reaction. “We are all for the unification of Gothria here, aren’t we?”

“Yes, baron,” cried the gathered nobles.

The baron turned his eyes back onto Atri and bored them into him. “You are for it as well, aren’t you? That’s why you’ve set your eyes on my daughter.”

“I’m afraid you’ve got it backwards, father,” Doriny laughed.

“But you do think that unification is the only way our realm can survive,” the baron pressed.

Atri took a moment to regain his composure before nodding. “Yes, but it will be a long and difficult road.”

“Perhaps in my grandchildren’s time,” Vilnist agreed, “but better late than never.”

“Do you think your house will be rulers of Gothria?” Atri asked with as much tact as he could muster.

The baron looked at Atri and laughed. “Of course not.”

He looked at Atri with a twinkle in his eye. “I think we both know which House is best suited to lead a unified Gothria.”

Atri raised his eyebrows. “Do you mean House Markvist?”

Vilnist nodded.

“Does my father know this?”

“He’s aware that I’d support him in unification,” Vilnist allowed, “but he does not think he has the right to rule a unified Gothria.”

Vilnist paused before adding, “but you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Atri nodded. His father, Prince Solon was perhaps the only person who had the charisma and influence to unite the Gothrians. However, he respected the sovereignty of the other lords, perhaps a little too much for his own good.

Another horn caught their attention. It was almost upon them now, and the excitement around them peaked.

"Any moment now," one of the huntsmen called out, “please be careful of your lines of fire. We don’t want any accidents.”

Soon, the barking of dogs filled the air as they pursued their quarry in the direction of the waiting nobles. The nobles raised their guns and Atri did the same. Their eyes went to the trees and the first of the deer, a stag, leapt from amongst the trees. Another four deer were right behind it. Thunder filled the air as the first noble fired his weapon prematurely. His shot went wild into the trees. The sound of gunfire caused the others to shoot. All their shots missed, and the deer pranced in front of them until they reached Atri, who had been disciplined enough to hold his fire.

He took aim at the large stag with a majestic head of antlers and fired. His shot struck it in the chest, and it fell with a mournful cry. The other deer skipped past and disappeared into the trees without looking back.

“Well done, my boy,” the baron said. Atri turned to see him smiling sheepishly. “I’m afraid I got caught up in the excitement and fired early.”

“I am more experienced with firearms,” Atri said modestly. He turned his gaze to the stag that was still thrashing as it lay dying. He climbed down from his mount and finished it off by cutting open its throat.

As he looked down at the creature he had just killed, he wondered if that was what calvary looked like to infantry, deer running towards them, begging to be gunned down. Perhaps it was for the best that he would no longer participate in actual battle.

“My lord?” came a voice to his right.

Atri blinked and turned to see a huntsman with a rifle in his hand. “I’ve loaded another musket, my lord. If you would please return to your horse, our second group of beaters are driving more prey in this direction.”

Although he had no desire to kill again, Atri exchanged his musket and climbed back onto his horse.

“Also, my lord,” the huntsman said, “you can leave the killing blow to us. No need for you to dirty your hands like that.”

Atri nodded absently.

“I must say, you’re showing us how it’s done, eh Lord Atri?” one of the nobles remarked.

Atri smiled weakly and looked down at his musket. He didn’t find much sport in the entire affair. The stag he killed hadn’t stood a chance. Before long, more hounds drove another small herd of deer towards them. The nobles held their fire until they had a clear shot this time, and all six were dead before any approached Atri’s line of fire. The baron declared an end to the hunt and lead them out of the forests as they chatted excitedly amongst themselves.

“Excuse me, baron,” Atri said, as he nudged his horse alongside.

“Yes, Lord Atri?” the baron replied formally. Lady Volunda, his wife, sensing that the men wanted to talk, nudged her horse away while Doriny remained riding alongside her father.

“I was wondering if you could help me to arrange a private meeting with the local bishop,” Atri ventured, deciding that there was no better time to ask this favour.

He saw Doriny’s eyebrows shoot up a moment before her father’s. “I know I’ve given my consent to your union, but don’t you think you’re moving a little quickly?” Vilnist asked at length.

Atri turned red in the face as he realized how his request could be misunderstood. “No, it’s… it’s for a different matter.”

The baron relaxed somewhat and laughed. “Yes, I can arrange that. However, I feel I should warn you that they are strong proponents of resurrecting the Calfurion Empire with the Haroways at the head.”

“Yes, I understand that,” Atri said, “don’t worry.”

The baron raised his eyebrows at Atri, inviting him to shed more light on why he was asking for the meeting. Doriny too had an expectant look on her face, but Atri remained silent.

Vilnist blinked. “Yes, I think I can arrange that.”

“Thank you,” Atri said, trying to ignore the look on Doriny’s face that screamed explain yourself.

A noble called out to Vilnist who excused himself, leaving Atri and Doriny riding alone for the first time that day.

“What was all that about?” Doriny asked in a hushed voice.

Atri looked into her large hazel eyes and couldn’t bring himself to lie. “It’s to do with their support with the Haroways,” he said as his hand went to the silver sword he wore at his side. If Doriny had noticed, she made no indication.

“The church and the Haroways are like fleas on a dog,” Doriny said. She crinkled her nose and quickly added, “or so father says.”

Atri was surprised. “I thought your father was a devout member of the church.”

Doriny smiled, flashing her flawless white teeth, which caused Atri’s heart to skip a beat. “He is a follower of the word of God and the Scriptures. The leaders of the church are men, and as much as they’d like us to believe otherwise, men who are fallible.”

Atri nodded. “That’s a wise view to take.”

He then looked his wife to be in the eye. “And yourself? Do you follow the scriptures?”

Doriny covered her mouth as she laughed. “Not as much as mother and father would like, but yes.”

She then batted her eyelids at Atri. “And what about you, Atri niv Markvist?”

Atri smiled coyly. “My family and I are God-fearing people, but my father thinks the leaders of the church have been blinded by greed and covet power. God is welcome in our lands, the Church? Not as much.”

“Am I invited to your summit with the bishop?” Doriny asked at length.

Atri hesitated. The meeting could be dangerous, and Doriny had no idea about the creatures he had seen.

“Perhaps it is best you sit this one out,” Atri said, “there are things that men can’t discuss in front of a lady.”

“But you’ll tell me all about it after?” Doriny pouted.

The Cathedral of Saint Arten in Duten, the Salini capital was built across a stone square from the baron’s palace. The cathedral was the largest in Gothria and the tallest house of God in the world. Its two spires soared over five hundred feet into the air, and its stone edifice was lined with flying buttresses topped by ornately carved spires that supported the vaulted ceiling within. Work on it began during the peak of the Calfurion Empire and it had taken over two hundred years to complete. The stonework on the façade was intricate, carved with intricate details and framed tall windows that allowed natural light into the cathedral itself.

Atri craned his neck to look up at the cathedral’s spires and suppressed a shudder as he wondered if this was going to be his tomb.

“Are you sure this is wise, my lord?” one of his men asked worriedly.

Atri was not foolish enough to walk into the lion’s den alone. He had five armed guards with him, all of whom had assisted in detaining his would-be assassin, and all were informed that the church was likely to have been involved.

“The cathedral is open to all the faithful during the day,” Atri replied, trying to sound confident, “and they entertain hundreds of visitors daily. Even they wouldn’t brazen enough to attempt something in broad daylight in front of so large an audience.”

Atri took a deep breath and walked across the busy city square towards the steps of the cathedral with his men in tow. They had just reached the foot of the steps when an elderly man dressed in a black cassock emerged from the open doors. Red piping along the edges of his collar identified him as a bishop.

“Lord Atri, I am honoured to receive you in this humble house of God,” the man said. His voice was quiet but clear. His hands were folded neatly in front of him, and his steely eyes were focused only on Atri.

“I appreciate you agreeing to meet me on such short notice, Excellency,” Atri said as he climbed the steps, “you must be a busy man.”

“Not at all,” Calfis Nordin smiled. He had been bishop of Duten for fifteen years now and had been with the church his entire life, “it’s not every day we have a visitor as important as yourself here in Duten.”

“Oh, that can’t be true,” Atri said modestly.

Calfis clasped Atri’s hands warmly once he reached the top of the steps. “May the blessings of God be upon you, my son.”

“Thank you, Excellency,” Atri said.

“Will your men be joining us?” Calfis ventured as he began to lead the way inside.

“They will,” Atri replied quickly, “they are all God-fearing men.”

“That’s good,” Calfis remarked brightly as they entered the cathedral.

The interior of the cathedral was bright and airy. Statues of various saints were carved into pillars that supported the vaulted ceiling that soared overhead. Men and women sat with bowed heads or knelt at benches in the large nave that faced an altar built on a raised stage in the apse.

“Normally, I would suggest we hold our discussion in my personal office, Lord Atri,” Calfis’ voice echoed through the chamber as he spoke, “but I suspect you will want to speak here, in a more public place.”

Atri studied the bishop, who looked back at him guilelessly. “Yes, that would be preferable,” he allowed, taken off guard.

“Perhaps you should dismiss your guards,” Calfis suggested, “they could stay somewhere nearby, of course, but I don’t think this conversation is for their ears.”

Atri nodded at his guards who backed away as Calfis led them to an alcove close to the entrance that housed a small shrine. A life-sized statue of the bearded Saint Arten looked down on them. Calfis knelt before the statue and recited a silent prayer.

When he was done, he got to his feet and smiled at Atri. “There, now we can begin. How can I help you, Lord Atri?”

Atri blinked. “I suppose you’ve heard about the attempt on my life?”

“Yes, I’m afraid radicals within the church plotted it against my explicit instructions,” Calfis replied, looking slightly embarrassed, “they have been dealt with. Before God and the blessed Saint Arten, I am truly glad you were not harmed.”

Atri’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You’re not denying it?”

“Oh, no, I don’t deal in lies, Lord Atri,” Calfis replied, “I must apologize on behalf of the Church for the attempt. Rest assured it will not happen again.”

“Perhaps you should explain why the attempt was made,” Atri said, taken completely off guard by the bishop’s openness.

Calfis glanced at Atri’s men before turning his full attention back to the young lord. “You know why.”

“The forests,” Atri stated flatly as his hand went to the hilt of his sword.

“Yes,” Calfis nodded, keeping his eyes locked onto Atri’s.

“You’re not denying the Church’s involvement with that, either?” Atri asked.

Calfis shook his head. “What we do, we do in God’s name. There is no need for shame or denial.”

“To what end?” Atri asked, as his mind reeled. Try as he might, he could not figure out why the man before him was being so open with his plans.

Calfis blinked as though confused at being asked a question with such an obvious answer. “To restore the glory of Mother Church, of course.”

“You intend to use those… things… to restore the Calfurion Empire?” Atri demanded. His voice echoed through the cathedral, and he looked up to see curious faces staring back at him.

“Might I suggest you keep your voice down,” Calfis admonished, “the masses aren’t ready to hear of our plans, just yet.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Atri asked softly.

Calfis stepped closer and Atri jumped away instinctively, clutching his sword tight.

“You have no need to fear me,” Calfis said soothingly, “we have studied you, Atri niv Markvist, and I believe we share the same interests.”

“Oh, and what might those interests be?” Atri demanded incredulously.

“The unification of Gothria, for one,” Calfis replied, smiling sweetly, “we believe there is too much waste in the current system. Once the Empire is resurrected, it will rule over the Continent. You could rule a unified Gothria answering only to our Holy Emperor.”

“And the church,” Atri added bluntly.

“We all answer to God,” Calfis replied easily.

“So I would rule Gothria,” Atri said, “me, personally?”

“If that is your desire,” Calfis said, “your family name carries enough weight.”

“What about my father and my brothers?” Atri asked dangerously, “would the church ‘deal’ with them if they refused?”

“We aren’t beasts, you know,” Calfis sighed, shaking his head, “all we’re saying is we can help you wrest power, should you want it.”

“I don’t,” Atri said pointedly.

“But you will consider what I’ve said,” Calfis smiled.

Atri nodded, telling the lie easily. “I’ll think about it, Excellency.”

“Make sure you do,” Calfis said, “it is an easy way to achieve your goal. Gothria can become a power on the Continent, but not before the deadweight is cast off.”

“And what should I do if I wish to contact you again?” Atri ventured.

“I will be right here,” Calfis replied, “you are, of course, welcome at any time.”

“Thank you, Excellency,” Atri said. The bishop was confident that no one would believe Atri if he told them what the bishop had revealed.

“God watch over you, Lord Atri,” Calfis called out as Atri re-joined his men before making his way out of the cathedral. At the entrance, a young man bumped into him.

“Watch your step,” one of Atri’s guards growled.

To Atri’s surprise, the young man leaned in and whispered into his ear, “you should take a look at the secret passageway between the cathedral and the baron’s palace, Lord Atri.”

The young man stumbled out of the cathedral and disappeared into the crowd. Atri stared after him and felt the hackles on his neck rise. Was he being led into a trap? Perhaps. Could he ignore this tip? No.

He turned his gaze towards the square and wondered what he would find beneath. A bead of sweat rolled down the side of his head as he recalled the things he saw in the barrows.

“I thought you were being uncharacteristically bold, asking me to meet you in the middle of the night,” Doriny whispered as she held the candle aloft, “but I must say, I didn’t expect you to appear with five of your men.”

“Hush,” Atri whispered, “you’ll wake the servants up.”

It was the dead of night in the baron’s palace. Atri and his men were following Doriny through the cellars. Each man was armed with a musket and looked very unsettled. Atri didn’t like involving her, but she was the only person he could think of to show them where this secret passage was. She had, of course, insisted on coming along.

“What do you think we’ll find in the passageway?” Doriny asked. Her voice was bubbling with excitement, and too loud for Atri’s liking.

“I don’t know,” Atri admitted, “but I must insist you allow us to take the lead once we get in there.”

“Of course,” Doriny snapped irritably, “I’m not a simpleton.”

“It’s through here,” Doriny said, as she unlocked a reinforced door with a bronze key.

Doriny lit a candle on the wall, and Atri let off a low whistle. Tall shelves were stocked with bottles of wine from all over the Continent. Another shelf held vintage whiskeys and cognacs.

He took a bottle from one of the racks and inspected the label. “This is quite the collection,” he remarked, very impressed.

“I’m sure father will be happy to give you a bottle if you ask,” Doriny laughed.

“Maybe I will,” Atri said as he replaced the bottle reverently, “how far to the passageway?”

Doriny walked up to a shelf of brandies and undid a hidden latch. She pulled on it and it swung open easily, revealing an iron door. Atri averted his gaze as she fished around inside her bodice and retrieved a small key.

“All of our family have the key to this secret door,” she said. She undid the well-oiled deadbolts on the outside before unlocking the door, “ready?”

“Wait,” Atri said. He took the pouch off his belt and removed five silver pellets before passing it to the leader of his men, “load your guns and keep another four each. Make sure the shot goes into your gun, not your pockets.”

The leader of his guards was a squat, broad-shouldered man named Brondi. He gave Atri and his new ammunition a confused look before distributing the pellets.

“Isn’t that being a bit too lavish?” Doriny asked, as confused as Atri’s men.

Atri didn’t reply as he loaded his own musket with powder before dropping the silver pellet in. Brondi watched the other four guards do the same before loading his.

“You may see things in there that challenge your perception of reality,” Atri warned, “have faith in your weapons and hold the line. That is the only way we will survive.”

He then turned to Doriny. “I strongly advise you to stay here, my lady.”

“And I refuse,” she replied defiantly. She paused before raising an eyebrow, “do you think the church is harbouring werewolves?”

Atri chuckled in spite of the tension he felt and shook his head. “No, lady. Not werewolves.”

“Are you ready?” she asked, as she prepared herself to open the door.

Atri took a moment to collect himself and nodded. The door swung open easily, revealing a pitch black chasm. Atri drew his sword and entered first with a lit torch in his other hand. His men followed behind while Doriny brought up the rear, lighting the lanterns that had been placed along the wall at regular intervals.

“If this passage is secret, who maintains it?” Atri asked. The floor was clean, and the lanterns hanging from the wall also required regular maintenance.

“Trusted members of the church,” Doriny replied, “what is it you are expecting to find down here, anyway?”

“I have no idea,” came his quiet reply.

Sweat beaded Atri’s forehead as he advanced slowly. The passageway was large, easily large enough to accommodate the beasts the elves had fought in the barrows, and it seemed to swallow the light from his torch.

“Does this lead anywhere else besides the cathedral?” Atri ventured, well aware that their voices were echoing down the stone walls of the passageway but glad to talk. If anything was waiting for them in here, the light would give them away anyway.

“No, it leads only to the crypts under the cathedral. I’m not sure how it works, but there is a natural draught that comes from the church that ventilates this place,” Doriny said, “I don’t think I’ve been down here in almost ten years.”

“Only your family knows about it in the palace?” Atri asked.

“As far as I’m aware,” Doriny said, “I’m not sure how many people in the cathedral know about it. The bishop does, for sure.”

“What is it?” Doriny asked as Atri came to a halt.

“Take this,” he said, passing his torch to Brondi who was next in line behind him. He then took five careful steps forward, hating to be away from the perceived safety of the light. He then examined the stone walls of the passage to his right, and his pulse quickened. There was no mistake. Light was filtering through the cracks close to the floor.

He turned his gaze up to the roof and then back down the way they came. “I’d say we’re right smack under the square.”

He looked at Doriny and asked, “are there any hidden rooms in here?”

She shrugged. “I was only told to take this passageway to seek sanctuary in the cathedral should anything happen to the palace.

Atri took the torch and used it to examine the wall for any signs of a secret entrance. He found a discoloured stone brick and tried pushing on it. To his surprise, it sank into the wall. He heard something click, and a section of the wall recessed. He tried pulling the section to the left, and then to the right. On the second attempt, it slid to the side, revealing a large circular chamber that was lit by braziers placed around the perimeter. There was another hallway that led off somewhere to his right, and Atri’s heart almost stopped when he saw the stone arch built against the far side of the chamber. He felt a wave of nausea wash over him, but his mind screamed that the mist was absent, which meant the gateway, as the elf called it, was probably inactive.

“Have there been any strange, unexplained mists in the city recently?” Atri asked as Doriny arrived to peer over his shoulder, into the chamber.

“None that I can recall,” she replied, wide-eyed at the discovery, “I had no idea this was here. What do you think it’s for?”

“Wait,” she said, after a minute’s thought, “there was a thick fog last winter. Nothing out of the ordinary, fog is common enough in the winter, but this was just a little thicker than usual, that’s all. Some animals became a little aggressive…”

Atri barely had time to process this information when he heard the bloodcurdling shriek that had haunted his nightmares since that day.

“What in God’s name was that?” Brondi blurted.

“Back into the passageway!” Atri cried, as he flung his torch to the ground and brought his musket to bear.

Doriny and the men quickly withdrew into the passageway where Atri had them form two lines that stood three abreast each and placed himself in the first row.

“Doriny, get help from the palace,” Atri’s voice trembled with fear as he spoke. He checked the flint of his musket before raising it.

“But…” Doriny began.

“Something’s coming!” Brondi cried as they heard something crash through the chamber

“Go!” Atri cried, and Doriny took to her heels. Half a moment later, a massive misshapen beast burst out of the hidden doorway.

“What the fu…” Brondi began.

“First row fire!” Atri roared.

Thunder filled the chamber as the first row fired. The creature shuddered and shrieked. Atri and the other two men of the first row had just knelt to begin the reloading process when the second row fired without orders. The creature shrieked again and crashed to the ground. A second shriek came from the chamber and the men looked at one another, wide-eyed.

“We won’t make it,” Brondi gasped, as he and his men rushed through the reloading process, “we should make a run for it.”

Atri swallowed before casting his musket aside. “Continue reloading, I’ll buy us time.”

“My lord?” Brondi asked.

Atri drew his sword and planted himself between his men and the chamber just as another creature came bursting out. It crashed against the opposite wall in its haste to tear into its foes and took a moment to reorient itself. Deciding he couldn’t afford to go on the defensive, Atri let off a roar and drove his silver sword into the creature.

He aimed for its chest, but the beast twisted at the last minute, and the tip of his sword plunged into its meaty, misshapen shoulder. The creature shrieked in pain and swung its oversized arm at Atri, who managed to pull his sword back and avoid the blow by a hair. The entire passageway seemed to shudder as the creature’s arm crushed the stone bricks it struck. Dust fell from the ceiling onto their heads as the creature fixed its beady eyes on Atri.

“Brondi?” Atri called out, not daring to take his eyes off his opponent.

“Almost there, Lord Atri,” Brondi gasped.

The creature, now aware that Atri could hurt it, became wary. It lashed out an arm. Atri flicked his sword at it, nicking the creature while maintaining his distance. The creature roared and charged. Atri’s mind raced. These creatures resembled a human to an unsettling degree. It was difficult to see at first glance, but he had seen enough of them now, and their movements to see the similarities. Desperate and out of options, he stabbed at where he thought the heart would be.

The creature changed direction at the last minute with surprising agility and swung its smaller arm at Atri. This arm moved quicker than the larger, more muscular one, but still struck Atri with enough force to send him crashing into the wall.

“We’re ready, my lord!” Brondi cried as Atri struggled to regain his senses.

“Fire!” Atri gasped, as he forced his protesting muscles to curl himself into a ball.

The sound of muskets going off echoed down the corridor. The creature screeched as five silver pellets pierced its body and burned it from within. It collapsed into a writhing heap, and Atri forced himself up to deliver the killing blow with his sword. The creature shuddered as Atri pierced its heart. A sizzling sound filled the air as the area where the foul beast’s flesh met silver began to bubble and smoke, and soon, the mishappen thing was still.

Atri looked up at his men who were hurriedly going through the reloading process once again. “Are you alright, my lord?” Brondi ventured.

Atri gingerly got to his feet but felt a stabbing pain in his side as he tried to stand. He gritted his teeth and forced himself upright. “I’ll live,” he managed, “but I’m not able to reload my musket.”

“Take mine, my lord,” Brondi handed him his loaded musket and began reloading Atri’s. Once everyone was ready, they carefully returned to the chamber with Atri in the lead.

They worked their way down into the opening off the main chamber and found a bare stone-walled chamber. The steel bars told Atri it was where the creatures were normally kept. A pile of bones sat in a corner.

“Someone must have let them out,” Brondi observed, indicating the open doors.

They looked around the two chambers but could not find another exit. “Perhaps there’s another hidden passage,” Brondi pointed out.

“We’re here!” Doriny’s voice came echoing down the passageway, “is everyone alright?”

Atri used his musket as a makeshift walking stick and limped out into the passageway. Doriny was at the head of a dozen armed guards. A fetid stench was coming from the two bodies, which almost seemed to evaporate before the wide eyes of Doriny and the guards. Soon, all that remained were a pile of bones that looked disturbingly human, and the monstrosities that once lay there seemed like they had only been a nightmare.

“What in God’s name is going on down here?” came a voice from the other side of the passageway.

Atri turned to see a priest approaching bearing a torch. He was dressed in a simple white cassock and was alone.

“Is there a war going on down here?” he demanded, “you’ve woken up half the cathedral. His Excellency will want an explanation as well.”

The priest fell silent upon seeing the bones. He mouthed a silent prayer and crossed himself before looking back to Atri and seeing his bloodied clothes. “What happened here?” he asked softly.

“I am Atri Niv Markvist, Earl of Mallingar,” Atri said in his most authoritative voice, “I wish to speak with Bishop Calfis. Please fetch him at once.”

The priest opened his mouth to argue, but his eyes flicked to the bones. He shut his mouth and nodded before withdrawing quickly.

“Do you think the church is behind this?” Doriny asked.

Atri winced as her voice echoed down the passageway. The retreating priest had almost certainly heard her.

“You said it yourself,” Atri said in a hushed whisper, “the only ways into this place are from the palace and the cathedral.”

Doriny blinked and fell silent. Her eyes went to the bones, and she shivered. Atri draped an arm around her shoulder. “Don’t worry, it can’t hurt us now.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever sleep well in my home again,” Doriny breathed, “just a little iron door separated my family from those… those things.”

“What things?” Atri turned to see Baron Vilnist walking down the passageway with another dozen guards in tow, “what’s going on down here?”

“I’m afraid we’ve found something disturbing under your very feet, baron,” Atri replied.

It took him a few minutes to explain what had happened, with Doriny interrupting here and there to add her own point of view. The baron’s face grew grave as he turned his gaze from Atri to the bones on the floor. Atri then led them into the circular chamber but did not tell them the significance of the arch. Doriny had seemed genuinely surprised to see the abominations, but he didn’t know if the baron was involved. The secret door was deadbolted on the palace side, after all.

The bishop soon arrived, and he too was brought up to date on the events of the evening. If he was in on what was going on in the bowels of Duten, he showed no indication. Atri looked at the arch and wondered how many other gateways were scattered throughout the Continent. And how many were open.

“This is most concerning,” Calfis said, looking suitably grave.

“You’re not fooling me,” Atri thought grimly to himself.

Calfis turned to Atri and tapped his cheek with a finger. “Are you sure you saw the ghastly creatures you described?”

“What do you mean?” Doriny interjected, “we all saw them.”

“Well, it was dark, and tensions were high,” Calfis pointed out, “are you sure it wasn’t just large men that attacked you?”

“Even if what you say was true, and it’s not, normal men are not reduced to bones minutes after they die,” Atri said testily.

Calfis blinked. “Well, I suppose this certainly is a mystery that warrants investigation.”

“I will handle it personally,” Vilnist said gruffly, “the church will, of course, give their full cooperation.”

“Of course,” Calfis agreed, even though Vilnist had not phrased it as a question.

Atri looked around the room and bit his lip. Perhaps they could find a hidden passage leading back to the cathedral. What then? Did the duke have the clout to search the cathedral? The clergymen there would certainly have to be questioned, though he didn’t think that would unearth much. Deciding that staying was a waste of time, he cleared his throat.

“Duke Vilinist,” he began formally, “I will provide you with a written report of what happened here. However, I must return to Gradja and report to my father.”

“I’d prefer if you stayed to aid in the investigation,” Vilnist remarked, “but I understand why you have to leave.”

Atri nodded and walked back down the passageway towards the palace with his men and Doriny in tow.

“Are you really just leaving it at that?” Doriny asked.

“Your father said he’d head up the investigation,” Atri replied, “I’d just be in the way if I stayed here.”