Hands that were drawn to the bell touched as they reach for it, touching as they both sort to grap it; a jolt passed through Aedmorn and Ivkarha as they did and they snatched back their hands. The compulsion from the bell passed at the contact of the jolt and they looked to each other as they rung their hands.

“It may not be a good idea to ring that bell if it so desires to be rung,” Aedmorn commented wryly.

“Aye, I believe you may have the right of that,” Ivkarha agreed. “Nothing good can come of that.”

“Still, one wonders what would happen if it were,” Aedmorn said almost wistfully, his fingers twitching.

“Step back,” warned Ivkarha. “We don’t want any accidents happening.”

Aedmorn nodded slowly and began to move away, circling around the room and inspecting each of the other seated figures in turn. Not a one of them was the same, all seemingly resting, yet no hint of breath or other activity came from them. For how long they had sat there he could not tell; long enough at least for a fine film of dust to start to settle upon them in a place here dust found hard to enter.

Cautiously he reached out and lightly touched one of the bodies, just brushing against an arm softly and for a fraction of a moment. The body was cold beneath his fingers; not merely the cold of death but colder than that.

“No reaction,” he said.

“I would be concerned if there was,” Ivkarha said. “We have already had one close call,” she added. “Lets not add another.”

“I will do my best,” Aedmorn responded and kept on his circuit around.

None appeared out of the ordinary; it was only the first one they had approached that had held anything in his hands. As they grew near to him again, the call from the bell returned, though this time aware of it and prepared, they were able to reject it, even if the call kept on nagging at the back of their mind, persevering in its need to be rung. Ignoring it as best as they could, they instead looked at the book seated on the man’s lap, open and with a hand resting on it. The pages of it appeared not to be paper or parchment but rather metallic silver in nature. The cover itself was of orichalcum. Most of what was written upon the pages was hidden by the man’s hand, and what could be seen was in the unknown language.

“If there was just some way to read it, we might find some answers,” Aedmorn mused. “Perhaps we could take it with us, to see if there are any sages out there who might be able to help.”

“No doubt they will charge a king’s ransom for it too,” Ivkarha noted.

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“It is what they do.”

“Leave it for now,” Ivkarha cautioned. “It were best done just as we leave.”

Aedmorn nodded turning from the seated figure and walking over to inspect the child on the stone slab.

It was hard getting use to the fact it was a child of whatever the tall people were, given her height matched their own, but a child she obviously was or had been. The fact that she had been laid out in the manner she had, with the braziers and gems, seemed to speak of a funeral in progress. There were still ashes in the braziers; leaning forward, Aedmorn sniffed at it, catching the scent still of incense within it, of myrrh and sandalwood and others, rare and costly and grown far from the cold regions of the mountains.

Up close the gems were laid out in patterns that encircled the child, scintillating in their colour and shape and purity; not a flaw or mar could be seen on a one of them. The pattern that they formed tugged at a memory, one long forgotten. Certain he was that he had seen its like before but he could not recall where, or what it meant.

Ivkarha looked down over the child, and pity was in her eyes. “It was one such as these that they sacrificed to shroud this land.”

“Perhaps even this one,” Aedmorn noted.

“First they sacrifice her, then they honour her?” Ivkarha shook her head. “No, I do not think it is so. Even alien as their beliefs might be, that does not seem logical.”

“Not unless they were truly desperate and felt they had no other options. One life for the many.”

Ivkarha shook her head fiercely again, her dark eyes ablaze with anger. “Better that all should perish that to take the life of an innocent.”

“Not all would agree with that,” Aedmorn told her, “For people can be selfish and put their own wants and needs before others, even if they were not of an alien mindset. What is done is done though; we can not change it.”

He circled around the stone slab, frowning as he did. “I feel like I am missing something here,” he stated. “I can see no answers, short of ringing the bell.”

“Which we will not be doing,” Ivkarha cut in.

“Yes, yes, I know,” Aedmorn responded, “But I am out of answers here.”

Ivkarha looked down at the child and a brow arched. “These look familiar,” she said, motioning to the gems laid out around the body.

“In what way?” Aedmorn asked.

“The patterns are similar to those I have seen before, in certain buildings atop the mesa in which the dead of the Ra-Armal are laid to rest. Similar, though not exact. Here,” she said, indicating one part of the pattern of stones, “Is slightly different. Move a few stones and it would be so.”

“As you are fond of reminding me, it would best not to do so.”

“No,” she replied. “I had no plans to do so.”

“Do you know what it meant?”

She shook her head. “The place had been abandoned long before we discovered it, the knowledge lost to the sands of time.”

“It is often so,” Aedmorn replied with a sign. “It leaves all a mystery still.”

“We should try the doors,” Ivkarha suggested.

“I do not think it will reveal much,” Aedmorn stated, “But a change will be welcome.”

Thus saying, the pair walked over to one of the doors and made to open it.