The bright moon struggled against the darkness of the eastern wing, Amanda's crystal stave a feeble ally.
"Summer knew, she knew this would happen, she tried to warn me, to warn you, to warn everyone but did we listen?" James Bloodspit waved his hands in a 'no we didn't listen why did we not listen?' sort of way. "Oh, curse my flippancy," he said. "Curse me. Hurry with that stave! Don't dawdle, this is serious, why were you the one they gave the light to?"
Amanda shuffled forward as fast as she could, Praetorian at her side. James tsked at them then let out a great sigh and shook his head.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be so curt but I'm just so worried—Summer, Mist, Nala, all of them—"
"Calm yourself, James, we won't get anywhere by fretting." Praetorian paused, head raised, then nodded towards the gloomy outline of a corridor. "Perhaps this way."
"'Perhaps'?"
"This place is not devoid of quietus," Praetorian said, as he encouraged Amanda forward. He placed a calm hand upon James's arm. "Precision is impossible. Even now the echoes fade. I fear we may be too late to commune with the deceased."
"I am horribly close to exploding into a hysterical shower of tears and violence," James said, more than a little wobble to his voice. "A touch of reassurance might be nice."
"If I have faith in anything," Praetorian said, without hesitation, "it is in the stubbornness of Nala Greyward and Summer Rain. They are sensible girls with more self-reliance than is commonly healthy. It is unthinkable that anything could have happened to them—that they would have let anything happen to them."
James drew in a shuddering breath, then let it out. Without anything further he strode after Amanda, and Praetorian followed at a trot. They caught up with the zombie just as a running figure came into the crystal stave's light, soon revealed to be Charles Silverblade. He stopped and looked around at the three of them, wild-eyed and out of breath.
"Flower," he gasped. "Have you seen her?"
"Dovedale?" Praetorian said. "No—what of our companions, Mist, Summer—"
"No, no, I was with Nala but she disappeared after the lights went out—I have to find Flower, she hates the dark, I should never have—"
Charles cut himself off with a grimace of self-reproach, pushing past James and disappearing into the darkness.
Praetorian caught Amanda's eye. She said nothing, and neither did he.
"There are stairs," James said, a minute later, and once more neither Amanda nor Praetorian said anything, although both caught the strain in the pirate's voice. "Would they have gone up? I can't even think, I can't guess what she would've done—"
"It's lighter up there," Amanda said, her flat voice cutting through the pirate's mounting hysteria. "Seems smart to go where there's light."
"Then up it is," Praetorian said—then, as they ascended, he murmured for Amanda's ears only: "We're getting closer."
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The upper levels were a crisp contrast of ink-black shadows and clean blue moonlight. High arched windows showed a violet sky scattered with stars, the moon looming bright above all.
"This way? This way?"
Amanda fixed her dull gaze on James, then stiffly nodded down the corridor. He set off at a run, flashing between the light from the windows and the impenetrable shadows. Praetorian cleared his throat as he passed Amanda, and she glanced at him, but neither said anything as they followed the pirate down the corridor.
"MIST!"
They found James embracing her, the little valkyrie buried within his strong arms. Both were somewhat tearful, a condition that was inflated by Praetorian passing James a handkerchief and Amanda resting her hand on Mist's arm.
"I didn't know what to do," Mist sniffed, while James dabbed at his eyes. "I lost Sly—he was with me, we were kind of arguing but ... but I don't know. I don't know where he went, I was just ... alone. What about the others? Nala and Tzugakk and Summer and everyone—"
"We don't know," Amanda said, before Praetorian could speak. "We're looking for them."
"Then we should! Look for them, I mean. You think they're up here? I came from that room before James found me, maybe up this corridor further? There are rooms or something, with balconies, we came through this part before..."
"Hey, who's that up there?" This rough voice was followed by Raid Fearson, who emerged from the darkness to frown at Mist and the others. "Huh. You guys. Seen Cane around? Evia? Nuh? Hell."
Without anything more Raid continued on, his stride swift and purposeful.
"I guess everyone's looking for their friends," Mist said, quietly. "He sounded really worried..."
"Mist," Praetorian began, before a warning look from Amanda made him shut his mouth. "That is to say ... yes. Worried. We should continue on, I feel ... I feel we shouldn't dally."
Amanda led the way, moving as fast as she could force her body to go, Mist close at her side, James chewing at his nails, Praetorian's expression darkening by the step.
"They must be all right," James muttered as they started down a new corridor, dull moonshadows stretching ahead. "They must be. She wouldn't leave us, she wouldn't be so selfish—"
"James? Is that you?"
Ahead in the corridor a door came open, and a rather shaken Summer Rain emerged. James gave a strangled choke and stumbled forward, sweeping the girl up and around in a tight twirl of relief.
"Yes, I'm ... I'm all right, thank you," Summer said, her voice coming from somewhere within the pirate's sobbing embrace.
"What of your partner?" Praetorian asked. "Was it Nala? Tzugakk?"
"No," Summer said, as she extricated herself from a tearful pirate. "I was paired with Evia Mordein. Given the circumstances I felt I shouldn't trust her, so when the lights went out I ran and hid. I don't know where she is now. I don't know where anyone is. Why? What do you—"
Summer stopped, alarmed realisation in her eyes. Praetorian cleared his throat pointedly.
"Onwards," he said. "No sense dawdling."
Mist looked around at the others as they continued on, at Summer absently patting James's hand—he refused to let her go—and Praetorian tugging at his own goatee. Amanda was staring straight ahead as she walked, crystal stave tight in her hand, shambling pace unfaltering.
"Um," Mist said, as they passed wide alcove-like rooms bathed in moonlight. "Do you ... is there ... is there? Something?"
Praetorian stopped to look back at her, then he froze. Mist spun to follow his horrified gaze, at first seeing nothing in the room behind her—but then a shamble of cloth resolved into familiarity and she drew in a choked breath. Summer was already rushing onto the moonlit balcony, to the crumpled heap covered by Nala's cloak. She knelt beside the still dwarf, a trembling hand on her shoulder, then she let out a shuddering breath.
"She's okay. Nala, what happened? What's going on?"
Mist walked slowly forward, Amanda to her left, the zombie's face hidden by her hair, Praetorian to her right, sad understanding in the necromancer's eyes. They all recognised the sorry little thing held tight in Nala's hand; a bracelet made of braided hair, matted with dark blood, the safehold shard within cracked and dead.
"Oh," Mist murmured. "Oh, that's Tzugakk's..."
Nala moved, raised her head a little. She stared at Summer, then around at Amanda, at Praetorian, at Mist—who gasped. The expression on Nala's face was one Mist had never seen before, one she'd never expected from the stoic dwarf.
Nala looked utterly lost.