Mouse stared. For a few moments, they stood, frozen. Felix rushed off, and Mouse hurried close behind.

“You should go back. It might not be safe,” Felix said, tense. Long legs stretched, eating up the ground.

“Not a chance, Your Majesty.” Mouse gathered his skirts and jogged after him, bare feet slapping over mud.

They rushed into the castle. Mouse closed his eyes and reached out to the spell once more. Magic blossomed inside him, re-forming the map. “Left, left and up.”

“Did you reactivate the magic? What did that do?”

“It’s an advanced technique specific to this spell. You can compress the spell to a spark and send magic into the spark to reinvigorate the spell and call the map back into mind. It lasts about an hour, and it doesn’t update the points, but it’s a low-magic way to use the map more than once.”

Felix drew out his notebook and took notes as he ran. “Speaking from experience?”

“Yes, this spell was invaluable on the north—” he bit off the words ‘northern front.’ “—north-most towns, where we, er, we often encounter blight, I once… helped root some out, and er, anyways, oh! This way!” He took a sudden turn, forcing Felix to double back.

Felix chased after him. “Sounds like a fascinating experience. I’d love to hear sometime.”

“Ah, yes, sometime…” He might believe that Moss is the duelist, but everyone knows that female moon elves aren’t allowed in the army. My story would crumble in an instant.

Up a stairwell. Mouse left a sopping-wet trail over the sumptuous rugs and stone floors, skirts dripping behind him. They whipped past a startled demoness princess and spun around a corner. Down the next hall, Mouse drew to a halt by the dark hallway. He closed his eyes and called up the map again. “It’s down here.”

Felix glanced at Mouse. They shared a look, then charged down the hallway together.

No candles flickered down this hallway. No lamps hung from the walls, nor chandeliers from the ceilings. After a few feet, it descended into near-pitch darkness.

Mouse made a small gesture. A ball of silvery light flickered into existence near his chest and illuminated the hallway.

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It’s so easy! Wish I was always blessed by the goddess. He sighed quietly, shaking his head.

Felix turned, taking it in. “It’s an ordinary hallway. Is it blighted?”

Mouse shook his head. “It’s rare for locations to be blighted. Not impossible, but somewhere like the human kingdom, so far from the Barrier, it’s highly unlikely. Besides, the blight mark on the map would have been much larger.”

Felix nodded. Almost subconsciously, he drew out the notebook, jotted something down, and slid it away. “So… someone in this direction is blighted?”

“Or something. An animal. Objects can be blighted as well… before the Barrier, they were more common. Many legends about curses are actually about blighted objects.”

Felix drew his notebook again.

“Might as well leave it out. If something is blighted down here, I can try a purification ritual for you,” Mouse suggested.

Embarrassed, Felix glanced at his notebook. “Ah… I’m sorry. It’s a bad habit of mine.”

“It’s not a bad habit. If you’d take more notes during court, you might learn something valuable.”

Felix glanced aside.

They turned the corner. At last, a single torch cast flickering shadows against the wall. Mouse dropped his hands, killing the light spell. Cut into the stone, an iron-barred cage held a young man. He sat against the wall, head drooped. His hair drooped past his hips, ragged and wild, and he wore torn, tortured clothing. Heavy iron manacles, carved with arcane symbols that glowed with a faint red light, captured his wrists. A slack chain connected them to the wall.

“What the…” Felix stepped closer, eyes wide.

The man’s head snapped to face them. Platinum blond hair parted to reveal dark eyes. Teeth barred, he rushed the bars. Manacles clanged against iron bars, echoing down the hallway. His face contorted in hatred. Spidery hands grasped at the bars, clenching and unclenching. “You!”

“Who are you? Why are you here?” Felix asked.

Mouse stood back, out of the range of the torchlight. Speaking normally, no black marks on his skin… no sign of blight. His brows furrowed slightly, and he glanced around the room. If it’s not him, then what?

“My name…” the man threw back his head and laughed. “My name. This pitiful, pathetic worm wants to know my name. How presumptuous.”

“I didn’t mean to be presumptuous. Please,” Felix said.

The man slammed his forehead into the bars. Blood trickled down his forehead, though he didn’t seem to notice. Hissed through clenched teeth, he whispered, “Never.”

Mouse stepped forward. If I can touch him, I can ascertain whether he’s blighted or not for certain. “Your Majesty, let me try.”

The instant he stepped into the torchlight, the caged man’s eyes lit up. “You! Fiend! Begone, begone from my sight. The darkness in my heart roils, the demon screams to burn it all down! I cannot bear to be in your presence!”

Mouse reached out and pressed a finger to the man’s forehead. Eyes half-closed, he whispered a spell under his breath. Faint silver light shimmered around his hand.

“Ahhhh! No! This pain, I can’t—did you come here to murder me, old enemy? I knew it, from the moment you walked in the door, the way my murderous urges throbbed in my heart—”

Felix ripped Mouse’s hand away. Aghast, he asked, “What are you doing?”