Time, for Hood, seems to slow, or perhaps it does slow, or has slowed, for accessing the aether is a strange experience. Hood watches in horror as the bolt cuts the real, aetheric shock waves rippling from its wake. He sees but does not wish to, intuits but does not wish to. The missile shrieks through the air, directly towards Hi-Jinx, inexorably towards Hy-Jinx, striking her directly in her chest, halting her mid-sentence, mouth open wide. Frozen.

Hood does not let his emotions interfere, Must not let his emotions interfere. Maintaining a vice like grip upon his mind’s focus, he continues his spell, lifting Hy-Jinx over the stair’s casement and onto the steps, several flights above Bembry, Dozer and Madeleine.

Hood sags with exhaustion. Gifted as he is, he is still relatively new to the ways of magic, possessing not the stamina of a more experienced mage. Only practice and time will engender a deeper connection with the aether and an understanding of how to more efficiently cast and summon. As his body gives way, Hood feels a sharp metallic grasp encircle his waist, feels himself lifted somewhat off the loose rounded cobbles upon which he has been sitting. A clang reverberates through his body, passed on by whatever is holding him, another clang as he is spun around. Looking up, he sees a raised sword extend and intercept the curving swing of an axe blade.

“Rapscallions! To the abyss with you,” shouts an enraged Helmet as he counters several more blows, sending three barbarians pitching over the edge of the floor. Several guards still remain, each beaten back to the floor’s edge and each fighting desperately to prevent themselves from falling. Helmet presses forth, Hood hooked under one arm, sword drawn in the other, then falls diagonally back and continues thus, slowly and painstakingly, making his way near the wall to the dangling rope.

“You’ll need all three of you I can assure you,” Helmet shouts up lashing out his sword in several quick horizontal sweeps, keeping the barbarians at a distance, before smoothly sheathing his blade and grasping hold of the rope, throwing himself out over the hole.

Dozer, Madeleine and Bembry take the weight, but it takes them by surprise, being much more than they anticipated. Helmet and Hood jerk downward as the three holding the rope stumble and slide down the steps. The misjudgement, however, is a blessing in disguise,for it causes Helmet and Hood to swing out, away from the barbarians’ reach. Four steps down and Dozer manages to jam his feet against the casement and his back against the wall and stop their movement.

“Ye gods!” shouts Dozer, his face turning red with exertion. Although Madeleine and Bembry are trying their best, it is clear that it is Dozer doing the heavy lifting. His legs begin to tremble with the effort but little by little the three manage to pull the taught rope, its fibres protesting at the burden, until Hood appears, rolling over the casement’s edge to fall gasping onto a large stone step, and then a gauntleted hand makes an appearance, followed shortly by the rest of Helmet.

Hood rolls out of the way as Helmet crashes over the side in a rattle of metallic complaint.

“Well, that…was not fun!” says Helmet lying on his back. “I believe this experience sits up there with my plight from a lair of squimbles…”

“Hy-Jinx!” Hood rasps, scraping himself from the step and half stumbling up the stairs to find his friend. The others, with the exception of Helmet who is more slow to get up, follow closely behind him.

Hy-Jinx lies like a fallen statue, a solidified form, frozen in posture. Ice crystals rime her entire body, and the visible flesh - her face and hands - are a powdered alabaster white tinged with light blue, shot through with veins of glistening frost. Her mouth, wide open. Her eyes misted over and lifeless.

“No!” rasps Hood, falling to her side, Madeleine accompanying him, Bembry and Dozer standing behind. Hood feels a large hand on his shoulder trying to comfort him, but he understands that this is no time for emotions. Exhausted and bone weary as he is, he knows that there is still a possibility of resuscitation. With his good hand he draws out the crowloom from beneath his smock and with both hands, wanting to scream as he does so, he grasps them about it and just for an instant looks with crow’s eyes at Hy-Jinx. He can see the jagged crystalline energy of the sorcerer’s spell, but beneath that, still swirling, Hy-Jinx’s life essence is still present. Snapping out of his trance, he starts to murmur the words of resonance which disturb the aether, but every syllable seems lifeless and empty. He tries again but nothing occurs. Slumping back against the wall, he looks helplessly on.

“I cannot!” he rasps painfully, a feeling of dread over coming him.

“Is she okay?” asks a concerned Helmet as he finally arrives with the others.

For a moment, no one speaks, but then Madeleine breaks the silence, speaking in a manner which, although a polite request, has a centre of iron and is instantly obeyed. “Dozer, Bembry, Helmet, go on ahead will you, just a few steps if you don’t mind, make sure we are undisturbed. I need a few moments in private with Hood and my guild sister.”

As the three wordlessly obey, Madeleine inhales deeply. Hood looks on in silence. Madeleine turns to Hood. “Forgive me, for I know this is painful for you” she says, her hands slowly going to her mask which she grasps and carefully removes.

Hood does not want to look, but knows that to turn away would be to hurt his friend more than the pain of looking. As the mask lifts, he gazes at his friend’s once beautiful face, remembering how her twisting auburn hair used to frame it and catch the sunlight on autumn days when her hair and the suns rays were of the same colour. But where there was balance, beauty and presence, there is now only guilt and regret, scarred charred withered flesh, and absence. More than that though, that which cuts Hood’s heart to the quick, is the sense of shame. Though she has no face for this to be written on, as soon as she removes her mask, it is the overriding emotion carved into the language of her posture. Hood lets out a throttled sob.

Without the mask, Madeleine sits slumped and defeated, bowing what’s left of her head, instinctively flicking forward the long copper tresses that grow from a scarred clump of her scalp, to hide what remains of her face.

Slipping the mask over Hy-Jinx’s head, Madeleine lets out a painful sigh, the slap of tear drops falling from a single eye onto her lap, drowned out by the sounds of battle still swirling the tower.

Hood sniffs, wiping his face with the back of his hand.

“Damn you Hood,” whispers Madeleine, reaching out to place her hand affectionately on his knee. They sit for a moment, before Madeleine breathes deeply, turning to Hood, her hair no longer hiding her features: “Remind me again what’s so important about this book that you’re after?”

“Power” hisses Hood, taking her hand in his and meeting the gaze of her single eye, the sight of which feels like a dagger thrust into his heart.

“Over what exactly?” she asks, starting to cough.

“Fate.” hisses Hood again.

Madeleine coughs again, her breath starting to sound desperate.

“Bound by it and in it til the end,” whispers a voice from behind the mask. “Are you sure we’re not simply succumbing to it?”

Lost as they were in their own past, Madeleine and Hood have been unaware of the transformation that has occurred with their friend - from icicle to slowly thawed out soggy lump. The mask has clearly worked its magic. Hy-Jinx lies shivering weakly in damp clothes, chill but non the less alive.

“Hy-Jinx!” cries Madeleine turning back to her ‘guild sister’. Coughing again, a slight rasp coming from the back of her throat.

“Less enthusiasm please,” whispers Hy-Jinx, “I feel dreadful…and why can’t I see anything?”

“You’ve got an ill-fitting mask on.” croaks Madeleine.

“A mask?”

Madeleine coughs again, instinctively reaching for her throat as it becomes apparent that her airways are closing. Hood quickly leans forward and carefully takes the mask back from Hy-Jinx, ignoring the pain in his fingers and passing the mask to Madeleine, who slips it back on with a shuddering inhalation.

“Err, I assume that that was your mask then was it?” Hy-Jinx asks weakly.

“Yes.”

“Great, just wanted to make sure. We should probably go now except…I still can’t see anything. And why have you laid me down on top of my crossbow? This is agony.”

Looking closer at Hy-Jinx, it appears that although her body has been restored somewhat, her eyes still appear misty, glazed and white. Madeleine and Hood exchange glances with one another but there is no time to process the situation or even think of any remedy if a remedy is even possible.

“Dozer! Can you carry Hy-Jinx?” Madeleine asks, though it is more of a command. “Bembry, help me with Hy-Jinx’s equipment. Helmet, take Hy-Jinx’s cloak. Dozer, take the lead. Helmet, assist Hood and bring up the rear. Hopefully we won’t be challenged.”

Dozer hoists Hy-Jinx over his shoulder and waits for the others to sort themselves out. Then the six of them proceed with their ascent, as the chaos of battle still continues below.