Hump studied the helpless form of High Priest Agaron. The man’s body was petrified up to his chest, forming a scaly bark over his skin. It cracked as he breathed in and out, the sound sending a chill through Hump. If the gods did not intervene even for a man like him, Hump wondered where they drew the line. It was a waking nightmare. And according to Luna, Agaron had been missing since his daughter, the priestess, had been found murdered. He could have been like this for months.

The man continued to gaze around. There was a little light in his eyes, enough that there might be some recognition in there. Hump wasn’t sure whether to be thankful for that or whether it was just prolonging his suffering.

“We need to get him out,” Bud said, helplessness in his voice. “Dylan, you must be able to do something.”

“Wait,” Ricard said, tearing his eyes away from the priest. “Our first priority must be to destroy the dungeon core. We must bring an end to this battle.”

He stepped toward the tree, tapping it with his spear. A red barrier manifested around the trunk, forming a cylindrical wall all the way to the roof of the underground waiting area. The dungeon core shone with essence within the trunk, partially hidden by the bark of the tree that stretched around it like a gaping wound. The core was larger than the one in Bledsbury, and while it glowed with the same red light, the crystal itself was clear. Again, Hump wondered if this was some sort of artificial core.

“Can you break it?” Marcela asked.

“There is little strength in its magic here,” Ricard said confidently. “With no formation to aid it, this should be a simple matter. Stand back.”

They moved away from the tree, forming a half-ring around it. Ricard filled his spear with power, and the room filled with the familiar crackle of lightning. It flowed up and down his staff in a mesmerising display of dancing lights. He pulled it back, poised like a crossbow pulled taut, then he lunged. The spear blade pierced the barrier, burying itself an inch inside. Lightning burst from the impact, an explosion of cracks spreading across its surface. The barrier shone brightly, and then shattered all at once, dissipating into glittering dust that rained to the ground around them.

Ricard didn’t wait a moment before dashing forward. He slammed his palm against the dungeon core, the wind jettisoning from his arm, enhancing his force. The core shot backward, blasting from the back of the tree and falling to the ground on the other side with a heavy thud. Separated from the tree, its light faded, and all that remained was an inactive core.

Above, Hump heard the thud of bodies hitting the floor, and imagined the undead toppling over. It wasn’t over though. Not yet. Essence erupted from the wound in the tree, pouring into the room like smoke.

Hump looked down to see the roots still pulsing with essence, the power flooding up the trunk. With nothing to direct it now, it poured out from the wound.

“Destroy the roots,” Hump said. “It’s drawing its power from underground.”

“Do it,” Ricard said.

Around the room, those with blades got to work. Bud’s sword blazed with Frostfire, Marcela’s gleamed with her blessings of water, Varris’ hacked at it with his axe, and Jess cleaved with her greatsword. Emilia remained back, her rapier ill-suited for such a task. They made short work of the task, and with its connection to the ground severed, the tree lost its lustre. The room darkened, with only Hump’s Wizard Light and the blessings of the Chosen for light.

“I’ll get Sir Roderick,” Natalie said.

“Bring any healers up there too,” Ricard said urgently. “Hurry!”

Natalie was already creating the portal, carving out a circle in the world with her wand. While she worked, Dylan knelt beside the high priest, placing a hand against the old man’s head. Dylan released his blessings, infusing his power with Nature’s Spring and pouring it into the man. The priest’s body glowed, as did the roots that bound him, but he was not released. His breathing eased though, and he closed his eyes, seemingly calm compared to before. That was one mercy at least.

Natalie’s portal remained open nearby, and soon she returned, Sir Roderick alongside her. His soul manifested armour had faded now, but his figure was no less imposing. His face and armour were speckled with blood, and his golden sceptre stained red. Yet that was nothing compared to the look on his face when he saw Agaron. The anger that poured from him filled the room and set Hump’s heart racing.

With him were two other Chosen, one of which was a Chosen of Emirai.

“Light’s mercy,” Roderick said softly, approaching Agaron. “What have they done to you my friend?” He knelt, examining him, then looked at Dylan. “Step aside, lad. Allow me.”

Dylan looked at him hesitantly before withdrawing his blessing and taking a step back. Roderick extended a gauntleted hand, light shining from it and falling upon the High Priest. Agaron stared into the light calmly, soaking in the power of Lady Light’s blessing.

“Natalie, are you able to communicate with him?” Ricard asked.

She shook her head. “I’ve been trying, but I can’t reach him. Either he’s not responding, or…”

She dropped to the ground, clutching her head. Jessica rushed over to her, giving Ricard a worried look. “Natalie! Natalie, are you alright?”

Hump stared as the woman slowly came back to herself. She stared at Agaron with shocked eyes.

“He’s screaming,” she said quietly. “The most dreadful screams I’ve ever heard.”

Roderick took a long, deep breath, his chest shuddering from the dreadful anger that radiated from him. “Bastards! They dare to harm a High Priest. They dare!”

“There must be something that can be done,” Bud said. “We must save him!”

“We could try and cut him free of the tree,” Marcela suggested. “If we can get him somewhere safe, perhaps healers…”

She trailed off as Roderick shook his head. “It is too late. There is no returning from this.” The man seemed suddenly old. His face worn, his eyes filled with the sorrow of one that had too much darkness in the world. He didn’t break Agaron’s gaze. “I am sorry, my friend. So deeply sorry. We should have searched harder. We should have found you!”

He placed his hand against the priest’s forehead, golden light radiating from his palm. “The gods will welcome you to their halls with open arms, and there you shall be reunited with Freya. Now go. Be at peace.”

The light from his hand pulsed, and Agaron’s whole body shone gold with it. Briefly, he raised his chin and closed his eyes, and in that moment it seemed as if his mind was suddenly clear.

“What are you doing?” Bud shouted.

Agaron’s head slumped, and his wheezing breath stopped.

“No!” Bud cried, rushing forward. “There might have been a way. Someone could have saved him.”

Ricard grabbed him before he could reach Roderick, holding him back. Roderick turned and approached Bud, placing a hand on his shoulder. “He was too far gone, lad. I will not leave my friend to suffer any more than he already has. But they will pay. They will pay for everything. I swear it on my honour, on my oath, on my very being. This crime will not go unpunished.”

“May the Heaven’s wind take him swiftly,” Ricard said quietly, fist to his heart.

Around Hump, others made similar salutes. Wizards didn’t really have anything so fancy, so he just gave the old man a nod. He may not always agree with the ways of the Pantheon, but he wouldn’t wish such a fate on even his worst enemy.

“We can’t stay here,” Ricard said. “We can mourn later, but there are trees like this all over the city. I believe this was all a distraction. They wanted us occupied in the Lower City. In which case—”

“They’re after Justine.” Roderick scowled. He hammered the butt of his staff-sized sceptre against the ground with a resounding bang. “Dammit! Damn them all.”

“But why?” Marcela asked. “Why do all this? What do they want?”

It was the question Hump had been unable to answer. The warlocks had a purpose. They wanted more than mindless destruction; they wanted change. Destroying Sheercliff would certainly gain attention but he didn’t know what it would accomplish. He couldn’t piece it together.

“The Shrine of Osidium may be their target,” Roderick said.

“It couldn’t be,” Marcela said. “It is sealed within Sheercliff. Only its guardians can enter.”

“Its guardian was Agaron,” Roderick said. “If they’ve found a way inside… I do not know what will happen.”

“What is in there?” Ricard asked.

“Perhaps only three people in Sheercliff know that answer,” Roderick said. “Which is why we must find Justine. There isn’t time to waste. Marcela, I know this is difficult but you must remain in the Lower City. Help where you can, but if your mother is being targeted you must not risk exposing yourself. Your safety is imperative.”

“I can fight!” Marcela snapped.

“Then fight here. Help the people of your city. Leave your mother and the warlocks to us. This is beyond you now.” He turned to Bud, who still stood beside him. “Guard Marcela with your life, knight. You and your party must keep her safe.”

Bud blinked, then his eyes widened in realisation. He nodded. “Yes, sir. We will.”

“Is your portal still active?” Roderick asked Natalie, gesturing at it.

Natalie nodded.

“Then follow me. I must gather my squad.”

Roderick was first through the portal. Marcela followed a heartbeat later, along with the rest of her party and Ricard, then Hump and the others. It was like stepping through a screen of water, and then he was back in the auditorium. The smell of fresh blood hit him once more, so thick in the air that Hump thought he might choke. The dead lay everywhere. As his eyes roamed over them, however, he noticed something else. Black stones littered the floor like a carpet of pinecones.

Emilia bent down to pick one up, frowning at the stone. “It’s got no runes on it.”

Hump picked one up for himself, looking the smooth stone over. His was the same—unmarked, yet unmistakeably the same material. The stones surrounded the tree. Hump looked up at the canopy above. The leaves had wilted, the flowers opened and drooping, and amongst them were pods.

“They’re not stones,” Hump said. “They’re seeds.” He pointed up at the tree where a few hadn’t fallen from their pods. “Look.”

Everyone followed his finger.

“Sir Roderick, you need to see this,” one of the Chosen called from the main lobby. He was out of breath and bloodied. “It’s the Upper City.”

Roderick rushed forward, and the rest of them followed. Hump had a sinking feeling in his stomach. They stepped out onto the streets. It was late afternoon now, and all throughout the city, Hump heard screams and the sounds of fighting.

The carriageway was gone from the cliff face, and above the Shrine of Osidium, a Tree of Damnation towered over the city. A split ran up the centre of the trunk, shimmering with dark essence—a rift had opened.

The Temple Guard had been gathering the black stones to the House of Stone. It seemed they’d sprouted.

“Do you think we’ve strayed from our path?” Bud asked quietly beside Hump. “How could such evil go unpunished by the gods? How could they allow it?”

Hump frowned. “Are you okay, Bud? Isn’t this the part where you usually tell me that they have a plan?”

Bud frowned.

It was then that Hump noticed a shimmer in his eyes. He felt a power around him, beyond anything a mortal could produce. The power of a god. Hump stumbled back quickly, and Kelisia’s light descended on Bud, the ice blue pillar expanding around him in a wave of rolling Frostfire.

Hump stared at it, stunned. Not just from the power, but from its presence. The timing. As if Kelisia was giving a warning to every warlock out there that the gods were watching, and that their Chosen were coming.

Hump felt that fear in him now too. He supposed they might be paying some attention after all.