Team South was heading towards the Forsaken Mound, its number reduced to two.

  Soon after they had split ways with Team North, Hazel had found a trail, left behind by the death march of the citizens of Varnhold Town. Leading straight to the south and trodden by dozens of feet, it was peppered with random personal belongings that the travellers had dropped at some spot, having no idea why they'd brought it along in the first place. A wooden spoon, a handkerchief, a stuffed toy. Team South had followed it for as long as it had suited their purpose, until they'd come to a fork in the road and had to decide whether to leave the trail for the Forsaken Mound or let their excitement over their findings override their orders from the baroness.

  Hazel, like the brave explorer they were, had insisted on continuing to follow the trail, checking out where it led, scouting out the place the people of Varnhold had disappeared in, so that Guelder would know what exactly she was up against. Valerie, being a loyal subordinate, had objected, intent on following her ruler's orders without deviation, unless instructed otherwise by the baroness. Linzi had found herself between a rock and a hard place, her compassion and curiosity urging her to support Hazel, but her loyalty to Valerie keeping her from doing so. Finally, Team South had splintered into the two ladies and Hazel. The ranger had handed them a copy of their map, a few potions, and a tress of their black hair for communication purposes. As to Guelder's lock, Hazel was just as stingy with that as they were with public procurement: they'd given three strands of it to Linzi and kept the rest for themself for emotional support. Annoying as it was, Linzi could understand. She'd slipped the precious strands between the pages of her epigraphy book, for lack of a better storage idea.

  At least the map proved to be reliable. It helped them identify a standalone mound among the low foothills of the Tors, the only one repurposed as a tomb. Melding into pristine nature, its entrance was hidden so well that not even Baron Varn had known about its existence – at least Linzi saw no remains of the warning signage they'd found at the Sepulchre of Forgotten Heroes. The entrance was sealed by a large, round slab of stone behind a layer of ivy, showing traces of having been moved in the recent past.

  "Do we have a crowbar?" wondered Valerie. The gap between the mound's wall and the slab was just wide enough for a tool to be inserted. And in fact, Linzi did have one. However, she wondered if there wasn't an easier way in.

  "Why don't we just use the password the Sister told us in camp?"

  "Because it didn't work in the Sepulchre, either? It almost got Spots killed, and if you ask me, this was precisely why the Sister shared it with her!"

  "Still, there's no harm in trying, is there?" Linzi struck a dramatic pose, and uttered the magic word: "Kheb!"

  The word meant 'darkness' in Cyclopean, and Linzi could already identify its written form, too. That was the second word she'd learnt to decipher, the first being 'Vordakai'.

  She heard the sound of stone scraping stone, as the slab obediently popped out from the gap and rolled aside, opening up a dank, murky corridor. On the flip side, the space was wide enough for her and Valerie to fit through abreast, without needing to touch the walls, home to some sort of slimy beige fungus or lichen or whatnot. Valerie broke out an everburning torch, and Linzi slipped a vial of antitoxin into her friend's hand, in case the growth on the wall was poisonous.

  "I'll go ahead," said Valerie, after some initial uncertainty, and walked into the darkness.

  Once she was in, the slab shook itself and began rolling back to its place. By the time Linzi found the presence of mind to scream, Valerie was trapped inside.

  "Say the password!" she yelled, hoping Valerie could hear her through the thick layer of stone.

  Nothing.

  Linzi counted to thirty, then uttered the password herself. The slab moved away again, and Valerie emerged into the sunlight, like an otherworldly vision... No, this was not the time to write an ode to her (and it would only make her hurl the inkwell at Linzi again, anyway).

  "I told you to say the password!"

  "And I did! It didn't work!"

  "Oh... So it only works from the outside. Then it's best to prop the door with something. Unless, of course, you prefer to go alone and fail to read all those intriguing inscriptions inside."

  Alas, they had no Hazel to keep watch outside and let them out when they were done with their mission. Which, indeed, left them with the medium-sized boulder Valerie wedged into the opening, successfully stopping the slab from closing back entirely.

  They inched forward through the corridor, Valerie holding the torch in her left hand and the potion in her right, while Linzi strummed her chords. If the Sister was in there, still alive, she would probably answer to her music. Or to her shouts.

  "Hello? Anyone here?"

  The answer came from the corridor's wall, in the form of rays of black smoke gushing out of a circle of arcane symbols shimmering through the layer of fungus. Valerie staggered and dropped to one knee. Linzi fared a little better, but she, too, began to feel like she hadn't slept in days.

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  "Okay," growled Valerie, slowly regaining her composure. "From now on, we travel light. No backpack, no armour, no extra weapons. No lute, either. Keep your crossbow, though."

  The fighter dropped her armour, one piece after the other, gave the potion to Linzi, and set out again, armed with only a torch and her sword. Even her barn door of a shield remained on top of the heap of their belongings.

  "Waves of Fatigue," mused Linzi. "Of course. It makes a successful grave-robber want to travel light and leave the loot behind."

  "The fact that we got it in our faces while heading inwards makes me think it's more like a warning. Next time we won't be so lucky."

  "Should we scrub the fungus off the walls and see what else is underneath?" suggested Linzi half-heartedly, not very fond of her own idea.

  Valerie made a face.

  "No way. I'm not here to do the cleaning. Just keep an eye out for any sign of traps."

  Linzi wasn't sure if this precaution would be enough. Still, they got lucky, and reached the end of the corridor without further trouble. It opened into a rectangular chamber in the bowels of the mound, reeking of mould and decay. A sarcophagus stood in the middle, its lid partly pushed off, and a slender, lifeless female figure lay beside it in fetal position. Linzi could sense a faint magical residue of a necromancy spell.

  "Oh," muttered Valerie, letting out a defeated sigh. "Another dead Sister, which means much ado for nothing. Spots won't be happy."

  While Valerie squatted down to brood over her failure, Linzi ventured closer to the corpse, and with a heroic effort, turned it on its back. She pried its rigid fingers off the object it was still clutching. It was a censer of the same type as what they'd found in the Sepulchre.

  "I think Spots will appreciate our efforts, after all," she said. "Look! We've found another censer. It's probably a set of... Oh wait. How do we find out how many censers need to be collected? Three? Seven? Twelve?"

  "We'll cross that bridge when we get there, Inky. Give that to me."

  Linzi tossed the censer at Valerie, who caught it mid-air and attached it to her belt.

  "You're right, Scar. It's pretty damn hard to cross a bridge before you get there."

  While she was at it, Linzi indulged in her curiosity. She took a deep breath, trying not to think of the fungal spores probably floating in the stale air, and yanked the shroud off the woman's face. She gasped in horror and covered her mouth with her hands. The woman was, indeed, defaced. She had no eyes, no lips, no recognisable facial traits, just a mask-like thing of grey carapace or dried clay or tree bark (it was hard to tell), with holes for eye sockets or orifices. A centipede scurried out of the mouth hole, disturbed by Linzi's investigation.

  "Ugh," said Valerie. "And here I was worried that your Nightmare ritual wouldn't work due to a lack of properly scary content. Just make sure to deliver your message before Spots wakes up screaming, drenched in sweat."

  Linzi, deep in thought, didn't respond to the banter. Something was not quite right. According to Guelder, the Sisters were fey. Then why was this corpse still here, dead long enough for critters to move in, and not respawning in the First World as usual?

  Guelder would want to know about this, too.

  BANG!

  Linzi flinched at the noise, and so did Valerie. The massive stone lid had landed on the ground as a big, rotting hand gripped the upper edge of the sarcophagus in an effort to pull the rest of its body up into a sitting position.

  "Vooordaaakaaaiii!"

  So this is how it's pronounced...

  "Run!" screamed Linzi.

  And run they did. Waves of Fatigue were one thing, but survival instinct in overdrive was quite another. They traced their steps back along the corridor, stumbling, falling, getting up, touching the slimy wall for stability, jumping over their piled-up belongings, and finally scrambling over the door wedge and squeezing themselves out through the gap. With a determined kick, Valerie sent the boulder back into the corridor, and the slab rolled tightly into place.

  The undead cyclops slammed its body into the slab from the inside, again and again. It held (for now), fitting seamlessly into the rock, not budging an inch.

  "Damn," said Valerie, catching her breath. "This was the... well, the third most embarrassing adventure in my life. What do we do now?"

  "First of all, grieve for my lute?" suggested Linzi, her voice breaking. She didn't even bother to try and hold back her tears. That brute had trampled her beloved instrument for sure. Not to mention her book of chronicles.

  Valerie pulled her into an embrace and held her for a long time – and, remarkably, this time she refrained from mocking music or art in general.

  "We might still get it back, Inky," she said softly. "But first we need to find food and water, and make camp as best we can. When the night falls, make sure to... Wait, do you still have the hairs?"

  Linzi fumbled in her pocket for her epigraphy book and opened it. Yes, all the strands of hair were still in place. It was a good thing they hadn't scraped off the beige fungus and discovered any inscriptions to decipher underneath.

  "So when the night falls, make sure to send Falcon a juicy nightmare and tell them to drag their shapely elven backside here. We can't retrieve our stuff without their help. Then you can contact Spots and report our findings. You can do two nightmares in a row, right?"

  Linzi slowly calmed down, relishing the embrace. That was one of the many things she loved about Valerie. Reliable as a rock, she always knew what to do. A juicy nightmare for Hazel 'Falcon' Stormwalker... That was a thrilling task, a nice way to pay them back for leaving two young ladies to their own devices in an undead-infested wilderness. Linzi felt more than willing to deploy all her creativity for this noble cause.