As we climbed upward, I noticed the musky scent of something alive, as well as the stink of undeath growing stronger. The sense of presence also thickened with every step. That feeling from when I’d first entered the pyramid? It felt like literal soup here.

Candle stones lit the way, and the walls were painted with the images of a lush jungle among mountains. The colors looked to be as vibrant as the day they were applied.

A jaguar wove her way through the painted foliage. Occasionally, she peeked out from between the branches to spy on our progress. There was such an intensity to her gaze, I hesitated for a time just to make sure there was nothing magical about it.

Several long beats passed with my hand on the wall, yet I sensed no mana or qi within the painting or the stone under it. The artist had simply been that talented.

Gently, I eased my foot onto the next step, causing the stone to give way slightly—not far, an eighth of an inch, if even that much. Every other step had been solid, though, so I cautiously withdrew my weight. The step rose back into place.

The whole time we’d been in the pyramid, we’d not encountered a single trap, and now here one was. I can’t deny, a part of me was excited.

Searching the area didn’t reveal any clues to what the trap did, nor any way to disarm it. The solution was to simply skip over the step and continue from there. A bit easy, but that was probably for the best, really.

The next turn in the staircase opened onto a small lounge. Two couches sat opposite each other with a small round table between them. The light was tinged green, reflecting off the murals on the walls.

A stand had been placed in the corner. There were the bones of a dead bird at its base.

> Error

>

> Not a valid talent vessel.

Yes, definitely dead, and about the size of a parrot. I gave the skull a nudge with my foot, but it didn’t move. “Sorry about that,” I signed, then continued with a prayer for the dead, just in case.

Ikfael tapped me on the shoulder. “I feel like we’re being watched.”

My first thought was to check the murals, but there was no jaguar in the trees around us. Then, I looked toward the stairs—and with a jolt, saw the ghost of a woman standing on the steps above the lounge, her hand on the staircase’s central column.

She looked to be middle-aged, with a squarish face, alert emerald eyes, and gray streaks running through unbraided black hair. A skirt of beaded jade hung around her hips, and around her shoulders was a short fur cape. A gold torque wrapped around her neck like a collar.

There was a clarity to her body that was sharper than any other ghost I’d seen, which was why I used my Status camera.

> Amleila (Sprit of the Land, High Silvered)

>

> Talents: Master of the Soul, Born Hunter, Claws Like Knives, Wanderer, Death is No Boundary, The Dead Walk, Beloved of Heleitia and Asiik, Soul of a City, A Freedom Constrained

My mouth went dry as I noted how this ghost actually was a valid talent vessel and “high silvered” to boot. Was that the boundary for Level 20? A stage even higher? No one I’d asked had known the answer to my questions about the upper level ranges.

It shouldn’t be possible for a ghost to have talents, unless she wasn’t a ghost…

“Do you see her?” I signed to Ikfael.

“No, what is it?” she replied.

I shook my head. “The spirit of Amleila is here.”

Thankfully, the spirit didn’t seem threatening. All she’d done was watch our short conversation, following our signs with her eyes. Tenna’s Gift didn’t appear to be working on her, which only further confirmed that this was not a ghost before us. Maybe she’s on a spirit journey of some kind?

“I scent my beloved upon the three of you,” Amleila signed. “Has the day of my release finally come?”

Three? That Master of the Soul talent is frightening if it let her sense Yuki within me, I thought. Not the Deer God, though. At least that’s something.

When I repeated her words for Ikfael’s benefit, the otter’s spine straightened before she leapt down to the ground. “Where?” she signed.

I gestured to where Amleila watched us with an expression so stoic, it seemed her face was made of stone. “This little one is my savior? I’ve seen her in my dreams, but did not realize my beloved had become so subtle in the long years we’ve been apart.”

The words were once again repeated for Ikfael’s benefit, and the otter nodded. Gesturing to the air, she signed, “Our zasha bids us to say that the world outside is not what it was; the clay is softer than ever before.”

“So small you are, and not even dark or silvered,” Amleila signed. For a moment, a green band became visible. It wrapped around her body and tightened. “My Asiik once went to investigate a flash of the divine—perhaps the potential for danger—but all he found was our Heleitia hiding in the dirt like a worm. That was your home, wasn’t it, little one?”

“That was… it was the Army of Sorrow who visited?” Ikfael signs trembled as she continued, “Yes, we call our home the Glen, and our zasha says that we small pieces are the best she could find for this time of opportunity. She begs for your forgiveness that more could not be done.”

“I see. An effort so pitiful, it is not worthy of a response.” The green band appeared again, digging into the spirit’s flesh. “Heleitia hides and so is beneath my notice. My four guards—dark warriors all—will keep me safe from Despair’s intruders.” The band now squeezed hard enough to distend her torso. If this had been her physical body, her ribs would’ve shattered. “They… they protect the talon that binds me.” For the first time, her lips trembled. “As well as the death crystal under my control. Surely, you do not have the power to disrupt any of these—”

She disappeared with a soft pop against my spiritual senses. I’d been translating for Ikfael and describing what I saw, including how she winced at the end.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Ikfael sagged, then turned to face me. “That was Asiik eight years ago! The winged kalesk who once left behind a foul turd in the Glen was the Army of Sorrow!”

Yeah, I’d made that connection but hadn’t let it get in the way of the translating. My heart beat like a drum in the aftermath, though—the realization of how much danger I’d truly been in back then catching up to me.

“I never knew,” Ikfael signed. “Only that the kalesk’s level was far above mine and that I must hide.”

“Our zasha didn’t warn you?” I asked.

“She didn’t,” Ikfael replied, “but there was no expectation for me to drive off every invader. Only the small ones who attempted her door.”

“We were lucky,” I said.

Ikfael signed. “More than lucky. Between our zasha and the gods, we were guided.”

“All right, I’ll grant you that,” I said, and then did my best to calm the adrenaline flowing through me. “We should focus on the present and not the past. We still have a fight ahead of us—a nasty one, from the sounds of it.”

“Four dark guards,” Ikfael signed, looking worried.

And rightly so. We could handle a single dark creature, and two was possible depending on the enemies’ talents, but four was a near-impossible number without the support of the Glen’s other defenders.

“It’s worse than that,” I said. “There’s also Amleila to deal with and the ‘death crystal’ she controls, whatever that is. Although it sounds like she won’t act against us until the guards are dead.”

“Did you see her talents?” Ikfael asked.

“Yes, and they were astonishing,” I replied and gave her the names.

Ikfael gulped. “We can’t fight that.”

“I don’t think we’re meant to.”

“No, of course not.” Ikfael waved away the idea. “We must break that which binds her—the talon, she called it.”

“And once we do, what happens?” I asked.

“She either joins us in fighting the guards, or she dies.”

“That’s what Hele—” I paused to reconsider using the name so close to Amleila. “Is that what our zasha told you would happen?”

“The only guidance she provided for after entering the pyramid was that we should follow her mark and—and—” Ikfael’s paws stuttered to a stop.

“And?” I prompted.

“To follow our natures, but there was something else that I’m only now realizing. She’d made a seemingly random complaint about a certain interloper spirit and how his nature couldn’t be trusted around objects of power.”

“Well, that’s likely true,” I said, thinking of the Deer God.

“The way she’d said it, though.” Ikfael looked me in the eyes, and I saw the wheels turning.

“He was included in her advice to us, wasn’t he? Because our zasha knew he’d tag along. No, she’d made sure he would by starting trouble, which caused him to stick close to me.”

I’d always wondered why Heleitia had tolerated the Deer God’s presence, wondered why she’d never taken action to limit his attempts to develop himself inside her territory. Well, it seemed that she had a use for him too and had manipulated him into it. Likely, there were objects of power he could… eat?

That’s Heleitia’s entire modus operandi, isn’t it? The right person in the right place at the right time—arrange those things and just let them be themselves. And where things need a nudge, create an opportunity for an exchange to make it so.

Was she selfish? Benevolent? Both? We’d all benefited while being recruited to her purpose, even the Deer God. And it sure as hell sounded like he’d gain a lot more once this was all done. He’d grown after eating the power in Knight Ithia’s throne; I had a feeling the amount trapping Amleila must be significantly greater.

Nearly all the pieces in the game Heleitia played seemed to now be revealed. And that thought triggered an indignant Deer God to leap from my belly. He snorted and pawed the ground, refusing to be considered anyone’s pawn.

Get in line, buddy. It hasn’t exactly been cake and roses for me either.

Yuki nudged me, and I had to concede that the experience hadn’t been all bad.

Ikfael tapped her chin, thinking. “When the fight begins, I’ll use the granite in my pocket to create barriers, including a stronghold for me.”

“A pool too if you please. Ready access to water will be helpful.”

Ikfael walked to where the stairwell continued upward, but she shook her head after touching it. “The stone resists me still. I’ll have to stick with the supplies I brought with me.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do,” I replied. “And Plan Two is us running away, back toward the expedition.”

Yuki said, ‘Mumu and the others are moving to prepare an ambush at the boundary to the soul corrosion.’

I repeated that for Ikfael’s sake and added, “If necessary, we can do a fighting retreat until then.”

“Agreed, that’s what we’ll do.”

I paused, but couldn’t think of anything to say other than, “Good hunting.”

Ikfael nodded before signing, “Good hunting.”

“Together, we’ll make it.”

“Together, we will.”

At her request, I lifted Ikfael up onto my shoulder and we resumed our climb. The Deer God traveled with us, his gaze directed upward as the stairway circled and circled. The four of us walked up another couple of stories before I saw a light flashing and stuttering against the walls of the landing above us. Then, it was gone.

I had my spear ready, and Ikfael’s new knife floated alongside her stone javelins. Yuki’s qi spun, poised to cast whatever spells we might need. The Deer God looked angry—at the edge of the madness I’d seen from him earlier that evening.

Based on everything we’d observed, the guards should be undead, and if they were undead, they should’ve sensed the life in us by now.

“Why aren’t we being charged?” Ikfael signed.

I shook my head, not knowing the answer, and took a couple more steps. At some point, I was sure to cross the boundary of their perception and they’d come running. If that happened, I’d fall back to the lounge to fight there.

I edged up a step, then another.

Did the guards set an ambush of their own? Some undead recalled the skills and talents of their previous lives. They weren’t all mindless freaks, which was a damn shame because intelligence was the most dangerous weapon of all. I’d always prefer a dumb strong opponent to a cunning weak one.

I wiped my palms dry and moved my hands back into position on my spear. My eyes wanted to lock onto the open doorway above us, but I forced my awareness to spread. Then, I made sure my breathing was even and my mind was simultaneously energized and quiet to prepare for the chaotic dance ahead.

Ten steps from the landing, I cast Dog’s Agility. The spell pushed me to rush ahead, but my pace didn’t change. If anything, I slowed to ease my way up and felt one of the steps give a hair. The next two were “soft” too, so I leapt to avoid the trap, landing as quietly as I could.

I was a touch shy of the doorway now, and still there were no undead charging me. I debated making a noise and using the trap against them, but Ikfael must’ve noticed me thinking about it, because she shook her head.

“They would’ve planned for it,” she signed.

‘Then that’s the new Plan Two, in case it’s helpful,’ Yuki said.

Ikfael signed, “Mumu’s ambush is now Plan Three.”

I nodded, since the three of us were all apparently on the same page.

The next dilemma was to decide whether to charge in or sneak a peek first. The lodge taught that you should learn the terrain before you attempt to hunt in it, but… We’d lose the advantage of surprise, right? For whatever reason, the guards are distracted and not responding to the life energy within us. But that distraction can’t be strong enough to keep them from noticing me if I peek around the door—everything I know says so. I wiped my palms dry again.

Beside me, the Deer God’s eyes narrowed. His presence thinned, becoming all but invisible to my spirit eyes. We were still connected, but he’d moved farther away along the spectrum between physical and spiritual. He intended to be sneaky while we drew all the attention, a good addition to the plan.

Want to scout ahead for us? I asked him.

All I got back through our connection, though, was a gruff annoyance, a determination to fulfill his duty, and… and an underlying fear. Something nearby had him spooked, so he’d only follow once the fighting started. Which really didn’t bode well for Ikfael, Yuki, and me, but we’d known the job was dangerous when we’d taken it.

I glanced aside to the otter on my shoulder, and she signed, “Sometimes our knives must flash in the dark, the light of the blade showing the way.”

‘If we take out one of the guards by surprise,’ Yuki added, ‘the odds of winning would still be terrible, but they’d be better than before.’

A small smile slipped out. I haven’t been this scared in a while. But then, this is just another day in Diaksha; what’s a little mortal terror between friends?

A slow breath. A moment to hold the spear and become one with the land too. The stillness of Despair filled me, its bitter musk and scent of undeath, its emptiness and oppression. There would be no more delays. I turned the corner and charged.