The giant eagle squawked as Stathis adjusted her position, her armour squashing feathers, the creature dipping through the air. She grabbed hold of it, prompting another sound, the terrain rushing by far below.

‘I don’t like this anymore than you do!’ It banked into a tight turn, bringing it back into formation with the others – everyone else was tightly gripped on, except for Semari, who was stood on the back of hers, shifting her balance to stay in place, her clothing rippling in the wind. They had travelled far enough to be outside of the pall of darkness, and she could see cloud-shadows scudding over the land beneath them, roads cutting between small villages and farms. The mountains were visible on the horizon, Sainted Hirata somewhere amongst the peaks. It had been a gruelling journey, trying to stay tightly gripped onto the eagles as they flew for hours at a time, only setting a brief camp for the required food before setting off again.

But they would be there soon – at least if Sainted Hirata hadn’t fallen. With Carissia there, and Yeros and Aimodia as well, then it had protectors, as well as all the priests and monks. But all sorts of things, were stashed away in the crypts and vaults, and things that should stay dead, but that a necromancer would quite like to get their hands on, to raise anew. If this bastard eagle didn’t throw her off first, at least! Damn thing had squawked at her the moment she’d mounted, objecting to her armour, and had complained every time Stathis moved, glaring at her with eagle eyes whenever she wasn’t mounted.

But they had moved fast, the land flying away beneath them – how far had they travelled? Hopefully far enough, and fast enough. They were close enough not that the main road, lined with statues, was easy to see, a thick grey ribbon that wound through over the hillsides and through the small villages. There was clear evidence of preparation for combat, with walls reinforced or recently erected around the villages. From up here, she couldn’t see if they had been attacked or not – she could just about see people moving, so they hadn’t been destroyed.

The eagle flapped its wings, catching an updraught and soaring higher, Sainted Hirata coming into view. The walls were still reflective and bright, but she could see signs of battle – smoke rose up into the sky, some of the buildings inside the walls dirty and damaged. The temples all seemed to be standing, although it looked as though some of the stained-glass windows had been destroyed, walls damaged, statues defaced and destroyed.

Stathis tried gripping with her knees and leaning to the side, wanting to make the eagle fly closer to the others so that she could talk to them. It made a sound of protest and ignored her attempt at steering, the city getting closer and closer.

It started to descend. Stathis’s stomach flipped from the speed of the drop, making her feel queasy – was the damn bird trying to piss her off? But, lower down now, she could see that something was going on. In one of the streets a barricade had been erected, the noon-time sun shining off weapons.

‘There! Get me closer!’

The bird screeched, before flapping around wildly. Stathis cursed, before relaxing her thighs and climbing onto it’ back and jumping, igniting her own wings in mid-air. This close, it was more obvious that there had been combat, with signs of battle along the walls, doors and windows barricaded.

She dove downwards, heading for the combat. A few people, up on the ceilings, pointed at her, but there was no time to stop for them. The fight was now right beneath her, and she could see that one side was in half-plate, their bodies shielded with breastplates and greaves, holding swords and shields. Their enemies were zombies, shambling around, unarmed but refusing to go down, continuing to attack even after being sliced and stabbed.

Stathis drew her sword and sliced at one before landing, spinning around to slice a zombie at the waist. The upper body fell to the floor, still trying to crawl towards her and attack, before she thrust downwards, severing the spine. She heard a surprised cheer come from the other fighters, before she lost herself in combat.

They were slow, but refused to stop, each one needing dismembering before they went down, attacks to her legs a constant threat. Semari dropped down from above, slamming onto one with enough force to knock them over, kicking down and destroying their skull before spinning and twisting to keep attacking, feet scything around in a kick.

Arrows came down from above, skewering into preserved flesh, hard enough to pin limbs and torsos to the ground, a shadow passing over Stathis as Parth lent covering fire. Stathis glanced around – was anyone directing them? There wasn’t anyone obvious in command, but they could be hiding nearby. She sliced and chopped, blade cutting through skin and bone, kicking a still-biting head away.

They were faster than normal, but still not very effective, their nails scrabbling off her armour, unable to penetrate, as Stathis cut her way back to the defensive line. A young man, his own armour battered and dirty, looked at her in surprise, gawking as she lunged and stabbed through the chest of another zombie, using her own weight to flick it to the side, where more fighters jumped on it, hacking it apart into pieces.

The balance of combat had shifted now, the zombies getting destroyed. They didn’t retreat, but without the advantage of numbers, they were easier to break apart into small groups and pick off – the soldiers switched to long spears, several skewering each zombie while others run in with heavy maces and clubs, using them to break limbs and bones with sickening crunching sounds.

As things got calmer, Stathis saw that they each had an armband, a messy circle picked out in yellow thread. The same had been painted onto the front of some of the breastplates, the paint having trickled down before drying, or been worn off in combat. As the sounds of combat faded, Stathis turned to the one that was closest to her.

‘Where’s Master Yeros? Or Carissia?’

He boggled at her before managing to straighten his thoughts out. ‘Yes. The chapterhouse, unless there’s been another attack.’ He remembered himself enough to stand up straight, awkwardly flicking his sword clean, arm shaking as he tried to sheathe it again, settling for just holding it. ‘Will you require an escort?’

‘No, I think I know the way. And you should check for any wounded, don’t want any blackrot infections.’ Although their armour looked sturdy enough to protect against most bites and scratches. Another shadow passed over her, an eagle circling as Stathis jumped again, flying upwards. Parth was on a rooftop and held up her hand, Stathis grasping her arm and carrying her, as Semari jumped between walls and balconies, following along. An eagle’s shadow passed over her, as she rose up, orientating herself against the temples and shrines, before spotting the rectangular block of the chapterhouse and flying towards it, Parth still dangling towards her. The windows were all barricaded from the inside, the doors looking sealed, metal grilles in front of the wood, hammered directly into the walls.

She landed on the roof, Parth dropping fast and landing with a roll. Janaxia descended from above more slowly, using magic to descend with a steady grace, all of the eagles circling above them. Something splashed to the ground next to Stathis – a fat wad of birdshit, white paste and partially-digested bones, the blob spreading into a puddle, forcing her to jump aside. Bloody bird!

The trapdoor down into the building itself didn’t open, locked from the inside – she rattled on it, wondering if it was worth breaking open, before she heard wood slide, and it popped open, Aimodia’s face appearing, recoiling from the light with a hiss, ducking back into the shadows.

‘Good, you came! Get inside – it’s still daylight, but attacks are frequent.’

Stathis obeyed, everyone else following behind as she moved inside, stepping into the shade-filled passageway. Aimodia was dressed for battle herself – rather than her maid outfit, now she was wearing sleek black leather armour reinforced with metal plates, a hood that was currently down, with daggers sheathed on her wrists and hips, throwing knives on bandoliers over her chest.

‘I think I helped some of the squires out, a few streets over.’

‘Good. They’re getting better, but I hope they’ll get good fast. It would be a shame if they were to die.’

‘Where’s Yeros?’

‘He was at the shrine of the Immaculate Fire. He should return soon. He has notes and plans in his study. Follow me.’

In the shadows, Aimodia was virtually invisible, her dull-dark clothing merging with the darkness, in a way that seemed more than mundane skill. Even once they moved into the rest of the chapter-house, it was still dark and gloomy, the windows all blocked up, letting only thin shafts of light through. A lot of the rooms were occupied – families crammed into bedrooms. Scuff marks and childish squiggles made for black curves and lines on the walls, the details too vague for Stathis to make out, although Janaxia stopped to squint at one for a moment. Low and murmured conversation, impossible to make out the details, but everyone looked strained and tired, with weapons close at hand, the air filled with the scent of stress and fear. Holy symbols had been daubed onto doors and walls, using chalk, ash or paint. A few nodded their heads in respect as they passed – Stathis wasn’t sure if the gesture was directed at herself or Aimodia.

When they got to Yeros’ study, Aimodia unlocked it, before waving her hand over the thick wood, turning her face away as a light golden shimmer shone out, the door opening.

Inside, it was even messier than before – the books on the walls were in disarray, some piled up into stacks, others open, all sorts of objects used as bookmarks, ornaments and knickknacks wedged between pages. A map of the city was on the wall, pins stuck into it, along with hand-made notes, and a camp bed had been erected in the corner.

‘Looks like wartime. Are things that bad?’

‘Yes. The battles are constant. Even with all of the temples and shrines, it’s been a strain. There’s no end of bodies, even with the clerics purifying everything they can. And more mundane foes as well.’ She licked her lips, showing off her fangs. ‘Although those are easier to deal with, at least other than the demons.’

‘Any idea who’s behind it? Or what they’re after?’

‘The list of artefacts is expansive.’ She nodded at another piece of paper pinned to the wall, covered with a long list. ‘And some were likely taken a long time ago. From the timing, I would suspect another Uth Tremari whelp. Unfortunately they are hidden away though, or else I would suggest a direct attack.’

Stathis turned to Janaxia. ‘Any ideas? Any of your family got it in for this place? Or is it just for power?’

Janaxia’s clothing rippled, changing to a red dress, loose enough to fight in, her uniform vanishing. ‘I doubt Shamuth would be brave enough to attack such a place as this directly, and Trakatha rarely takes the initiative. So that leaves Peresperan or Ophexia. It seems unlikely they would be working together, but it could be either of them. And there’s no shortage of items they might be after. Or old bodies, come to that. I hear some of the crypts are home to ancient creatures, best left undisturbed.‘

‘Well, we’ll have to try and deal with that when we get to it. For now, is there anything we can do? Where did you say Yeros was, the shrine of Immaculate Fire?’ She went over to the map and looked at it – the shrine was marked with an orange push-pin, and an indecipherable note next to it. ‘What about Carissia?’

Aimodia grimaced. ‘She has been busy. Mercifully busy! I try and keep my distance. It would be awkward if she were to look too closely. Fortunately, she seems focused elsewhere.’

‘Probably for the best, it might get awkward otherwise. So, what do you need us to do? I couldn’t bring many people, but hopefully we’ll be able to get this over with fast. There’s enough other shit going on that I don’t want to get bogged down here. Has anyone been able to sweep through the crypts?’

‘Only partially. Carissia has been down there, but many of the areas are sealed. She’s, uh, expressed her frustration, at quite some length. But you are correct in that it seems likely that is where someone would hide. And, of course, many of the wards, traps and guardians down there are active and not very discriminating. Some areas are too dangerous to enter.’

‘You been down there yourself?’

‘When I can spare the time. I can sense there is darkness similar to…’ Aimodia nodded her head at Janaxia. ‘But have been unable to locate it.’

‘Hmm, well, that’s a lead. Is everyone good to head out now? Semari, Parth?’

Semari slapped a book shut, sneezing at the cloud of dust that exploded outwards from it, tossing it into a corner. ‘Sure, good to go.’

‘Janaxia?’

Janaxia was staring at the wall, where something had been daubed, an eye-bending squiggle of black charcoal. Aimodia tutted. ‘One of the children must have done that! I try and keep them out of here, but they used to sneak in before the seal was put on the door.’

‘It’s a message.’

Stathis moved closer – it made her eyes itch, shifting away from it, unable to focus.

‘Although the drafting is poor. It says to go to where the four eyes of heaven shine.’

‘What does that mean? Something about the sun and the moons? Is there somewhere that gets marked during a grand eclipse or something?’

Aimodia moved over to the map, finger skimming over it before stabbing down. ‘Perhaps there? That area has been quieter though.’ She was pointing at an open circle – “the well of heaven”, according to the map. ‘I have never been, but I think it’s a large shaft used to mark celestial phenomena. It is well-guarded, or at least was.’

‘OK, that sounds like somewhere to go. Although who would be leaving messages in the Unreadable Tongue?’

Janaxia reached out to touch it – the dark mark disappeared as soon as she did, the wall suddenly clean again. She made a sound of irritation. ‘Curious! And frustrating.’

‘Aimodia, should we wait here for Yeros? Or go and investigate this?’

‘If you go on patrol and deal with whatever problems you encounter on the way there, but try and be back by sundown. That is when the attacks are most intense.’

‘Understood. We’ll be back by then.’