Friedrich and Teleri walked over to the spider mask that lay on the floor of the corridor beside Nelmor’s body. There was something sad about witnessing the poor creature being drawn into it that gave Friedrich a new appreciation for the three souls that he held so closely to him.

He sheathed his sword, slid his shield further up his arm, and then picked up the mask in his two hands. He looked at the indiscernible expression of the spider. Was it sad? Happy? Completely neutral? It was hard to tell with a creature like this, but he would guess neutral as it matched the other three masks he had—or once had, in two cases.

“What should we do with this?” he asked Teleri.

The high elf looked to Nelmor’s body. “Would it surprise you to know that I planned to steal the mask from him once he obtained the soul of Valmyra. Evidently, that plan did not come to pass, and you have to settle for this weaker soul.”

“You wanted me to have the mask?”

“Only because you are the only one I trust to use a soul mask responsibly. Even though the minotaur proved troublesome, you pushed through the hardship and brought him under control. Wicked magic, soul magic may be, but it is better with you than it is with a stranger.”

Friedrich nodded. “Your instinct was correct,” he said, leaning down and placing a palm over Nelmor’s eyes, shutting them. He suddenly leapt up. “Marina! Pheston!”

“Are fine,” she said, I threw Marina’s staff to her before following you.

The two headed back towards the pit where there was only silence. A glowing blue light appeared from the pit as Marina threw her staff out and then climbed free, having been thrown up by Pheston.

“Oh, you’re alright,” she sighed, falling to the ground and taking a moment to rest. “I’m glad. I was worried Nelmor had something else in mind.”

“We’re fine,” said Friedrich, “but Nelmor is dead and, unfortunately, he claimed a victim in his final moments.”

“What?” asked Marina, sitting up and turning around. She glanced the spider mask in Friedrich’s hand and then looked into the pit. “How?”

“Not Valmyra. It was one of her children. A smaller spider and one that I suspect will not prove to be much help to us.”

“Excuse me,” came Pheston’s echoing voice from the pit. “Did you forget I’m down here? Let me out, you rascals and we’ll worry about spiders and masks later.”

“Hmm,” said Friedrich, looking to the spider mask. A faint smile crept upon his face and he placed it to his face. “Gah!”

He felt his body painfully contort, but it was not like the pain he felt with every other transformation that he had since numbed to. This sensation was much worse as he shrunk and his body twisted. From his head sprung six additional eyes and, from his sides, four more legs. As they burst from his flesh, he wanted to curl up and died, so painful was it but before he knew it, the pain faded and he was standing in the corridor as a spider.

“Eek!” squealed Marina, sliding away. “Friedrich, you’re so disgusting.”

Friedrich made a clicking sound to try and comfort her, but it only made the young Mercian’s face scrunch up more. The spider Friedrich tried to walk, only to find himself to struggle bearing his weight on four legs. He had no idea how to control his new limbs, so unfamiliar was he with this form. The most he could do was make them wriggle and spasm. His plan to use a web to hoist Pheston from the pit was scarpered immediately as he tried to learn this new body. His other three masks hadn’t resulted in such large changes to him, but this one would require a lot of practice to be able to fully control.

As Friedrich flopped around, trying to move, Marina and Teleri retrieved a rope and secured it to a stone coffin to keep it sturdy enough for Pheston to pull himself out.

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“There we go,” said the smith, puffing out his chest and smiling proudly. “The tomb is free, we don’t need to worry about tomb raiders, and there are no more trolls. Not a bad couple of hours, eh, friends?”

Friedrich fell flat on his stomach—or cephalothorax and abdomen—and his head drooped into the pit, where the dead body of Valmyra lay. Seeing the dead Spider Queen sent a shockwave of emotion through him that caught him off guard. It was as though the spider’s soul was calling out for his mother. It reminded Friedrich of his own dead mother and he froze, unable to move an inch. He did not know that spiders could feel emotion. Perhaps it was a trait of this specific breed, he could only guess, but it was unexpected and unpleasant.

“What do we do with leggy here?” asked Pheston, prodding Friedrich with his hammer. “Just wait for him to turn back to normal?”

“Yes, please,” said Marina, not wanting to have to carry the limp spider.

“It should not be much longer,” said Teleri, looking up and down the corridor in case more creatures reared their ugly heads.

No more than a minute passed before Friedrich regressed to his human form and the mask fell from his face. He reached out a hand to stop it from falling into the pit and then placed it in his pack, not wanting to take the time to tie a thin rope to it. He would do that later and it could join the goblin mask under his tunic when he got back to Millstone.

“I did not enjoy that,” he said, climbing to his feet.

“Me neither,” said Marina, but the sight of the mask suddenly made her remember something important. “Elketh!” she yelled.

Pheston, who was standing right beside her, jumped. “Eh? What are you on about, lass?” he barked, feeling embarrassed to have been caught off-guard.

“Elketh? What about him?” asked Friedrich was Teleri’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“It was right before the floor collapsed,” said Marina, slapping her palm against her forehead. “I was talking to Nelmor about where he got the soul gem and he said he got it from Elketh.”

“Ah, the funny-looking fella that you’re convinced is stalking you?” asked Pheston, having heard all about the mysterious wandered from Friedrich during their time together in Keldracht.

“How can that be?” asked Teleri.

“He is stalking us,” said Friedrich, closing his eyes. “He has to be, but how could he have orchestrated us running into Nelmor at precisely this time? What in the world is he up to?”

“I don’t know,” said Marina. “I didn’t get the chance to question Nelmor further, but I’m certain it’s the same man. He even talked about his robes.”

“I bet you anything he wanted Valmyra trapped within the soul gem rather than one of her lesser children,” said Friedrich, holding the inactive mask up. “What is his intention?”

“Whatever he wants with you,” said Teleri, “he is obviously determined to ensure that you obtain soul masks. The question we need to know the answer to is why he wants this. Surely, it would not be out of the goodness of his heart?”

“Maybe he’s friends with my father,” joked Friedrich, but his face fell upon saying it. “Is that such a crazy thought?”

His three friends looked at him sympathetically. They knew he sought to rescue his father, but the young Mercian had never been prepared to share details with them.

“I think it’s time,” he said, looking up. “You’ve all helped me so much and we’ve been through a lot together. I owe you the truth about why I’ve been roaming the land, seeking money and power.”

“Not here, lad,” said Pheston, looking around. “We’ll go outside and you can tell us in the fresh air. I think you’ll probably need it.”

The group departed from the corridor, walking past Nelmor’s body. As much as Pheston wanted the rotten dark elf to be tossed into the snow, he knew the rats and remaining spiders hiding in the shadows would quickly dispose of him. Even upon walking past the other dark elves, the four ignored the bodies.

“We’ll tell the people of Millstone and they can decide what to do with them,” said the old man as the ascending journey continued.

“Are you alright?” Marina asked Friedrich quietly as Teleri and Pheston marched on ahead.

“Yes,” said the young man truthfully. “I think that sharing this burden is what I need to do. I’m just sorry that it’s taken me so long to be ready.”

“Sorry?” asked Marina with a surprised look. “You have nothing to be sorry for. We agreed from the beginning that we will talk about ourselves when we were ready. Teleri may have been the first to do so, but that doesn’t mean we had to follow suit. When the time is right, the time is right. If that time is now, then that is perfectly fine.”

“Thank you,” said Friedrich, smiling at her. “I missed you in Keldracht, you know that?”

“I didn’t miss you,” said Marina jokingly.

“You only spent months trying to bring me home.”

“All Teleri’s idea, I assure you. I was happy to leave you in Keldracht.”

“At least I brought a couple of friends,” said Friedrich with a laugh as he tapped the goblin mask and then his forehead. “My merry trio of souls kept me company until I ran into Pheston.”

“And now you have foul souls,” said Marina, taking the mask from Friedrich’s hands and looking at it. She quickly passed it back. “No, even when it’s wood, it disgusts me.”

“Here we are!” called Pheston from the top of a staircase ahead. “Make sure you wrap up, Marina, it’s going to be colder outside than it is in here.”

“Oh no,” sighed the young woman. “I forgot about that…I don’t like Corobath weather.”