Lorelei sat in the anteroom oriel, tucked in a blanket, and flipped through the pages of a thin tome. The jumping light of the candelabra next to her made the golden letters engraved in the dark leather glimmer, the title seeming ethereal and magical – Codex Medicus Barbaricus: Herbs and Remedies of the North. It was a book left by the personal physician of one of the previous dukes, describing the “crude cures” of the Binshi and comparing them to the “complex potions” of the Limerian and Shareeban alchemists.

Despite its tone being a bit haughty and overbearing at times, Lorelei found the text highly informative, albeit obviously partial towards Limerian remedies. It was nonetheless interesting to see what her colleagues had learned throughout the years, especially since she intended to consult with Baba Marishka about Binshi medicine and hexing potions after the Grand Council was over.

Amongst the herbs described in the Codex Barbaricus, she was delighted to find some plants she already knew – feverfew, bearberry, and leatherleaf, as well as elder tree. Some others like white-eternal and deer lichen were completely new to her and she could hardly wait for a chance to go out in the wild and collect some specimens.

With sparkling eyes and a head filled with images of craggy mountains and endless green fields, Lorelei let her gaze wander outside of the facetted window. The inky sky was adorned with twinkling stars, dawn still a few hours away. All the rooms in the castle were dark, yet the glimmer of the moon reflected in the windows drew patches of silver light in the large inner courtyard. There was no howling wind, nor any other sound to disturb the slumber of Ildemar’s inhabitants. With such a calm and dozy atmosphere and an interesting book in hand, Lorelei was almost able to forget the uneasiness in her heart. Almost.

She had managed to barely struggle through a couple of hours of sleep. Today at noon it would be two days since Noah and the Barons went out hunting. Despite knowing that with Sir Duncan and Sir Gregor present there was hardly anything that could harm him, Lorelei continued to feel restless. The mail and armor they had worn didn’t leave her mind. What kind of dangerous beast were they hunting? And was it even a beast or… something unnatural?

The memory of the dhrowghost’s curse was still fresh and, for a split second, a sharp pain pierced Lorelei’s body. She sucked a jagged breath, small lights flickering in her field of vision. Closing her eyes, she tried to calm her trembling body and racing heart. After a few moments, the attack passed. Her eyelids fluttered open, only for her to realize that the twinkling lights were still there.

These were lanterns!

A few of Ildemar’s windows had also lit up but it was too early for the servants to start with their daily routine. As a couple of shadowy figures ran through the open gallery on the first floor, Lorelei realized that something serious must have happened.

Putting her book to the side, she jumped up and hurried towards the door. Maybe she could meet a patrolling guard or a Shadow and ask them what the source of the commotion was. But after a few paces, she stopped midway and frowned. Should she wake up Milly who slept in the room next to her or move alone? And if she went out, where should she even go? Was it even wise to leave the safety of her chamber, especially after Karusa had warned her against it? If it was something requiring her attention, someone would come to inform her. The wisest decision was to wait till morning, yet she knew her curiosity would torment her incessantly.

Lorelei sighed in frustration and finally decided that a peek in the corridor wouldn’t harm her. Her fingers closed around the cold handle as she pulled the door open only to stop in her tracks a second time.

“Ahem… Good morning, Duchess!” Noah’s towering build didn’t match his bashful tone and expression as he loomed over her. “I… see that you are awake. I was just wondering if you were.”

“My lord!” Lorelei blinked. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

“As a loving husband, the moment I returned, I came seeking my beloved wife.”

His innocent reply only made her more alert. Loving husband? Beloved wife? What nonsense was this?

Lorelei squinted and carefully inspected the man before her.

A couple of splatters of light-colored mud still stuck under his chin in vivid contrast with his dark-olive skin. The same went for the few clumps of dried clayish gunk tangled in his black hair. His muddy cape was unable to hide his even muddier and tattered clothes. As a finishing touch, crumbs of dried sludge decorated the floor around his boots.

Seeing her expression darken, Noah coughed and his hand combed through his hair, meeting some resistance on the way.

“Sorry. I better leave you for now…”

“Get inside… Your Highness.”

Lorelei made no effort to control her tone as she spun around. Noah followed her sheepishly without protest.

The two entered the alchemy study and Lorelei hurried to light a couple of lanterns. Their friendly yellow glow illuminated her thin lips and the crease between her eyebrows. Gritting her teeth, she picked up several books from one of the benches and tossed them on the ground.

“Sit.” She pointed at the cleared space.

“You seem on edge, my duchess.” Noah followed her command.

“Really?” Lorelei turned around to face him and crossed her arms. “Maybe it is because I told you that I won’t treat your wounds if you are careless enough to get injured.”

“I didn’t say that I’m injured.”

“And what were you doing in front of my door at an ungodly hour looking like a wild hog after mud bath?” She huffed. “Take off the cloak.”

Noah didn’t try to argue as he motioned to his shoulder. For a second he stiffened, his left hand trembling slightly before it continued on its path. With a guilty expression, he unclasped the buckle revealing the secret beneath.

A curse stuck in Lorelei’s throat as she admired his torn muddy surcoat and the pieces of mail dangling unnaturally loose underneath and even spilling outside. Neli’s words flashed through her mind: ‘Why do you think he is always dressed in black? So that the blood wouldn’t show!’

“I see you made no effort to treat it. Again.” Lorelei kept her cold tone despite her heart tightening.

“I couldn’t allow the Barons to know I’m injured.”

“Your stupid pride might cost you a limb someday. Take off your clothes. Or do you need assistance?”

“I’ll manage on my own, thank you.”

Lorelei huffed again and went to her working table. Lighting her spirit burner, she poured some water in the copper kettle and emptied the rest of the jug into a washing bowl. From one of the crates, she procured a piece of cloth and some bandages and then started rummaging through her shelves and picking up jars and bottles. Every motion was deliberately slow, giving her enough time to fan her anger, otherwise, her fear would overwhelm her. What creature was strong enough to injure him?

She shook her head, trying to drive away the image of a churning sea of darkness and countless wriggling tentacles, concentrating on her task instead. Measuring a few pinches of different powders into a cup, Lorelei dissolved the medicine with some wine. The copper kettle was also about to boil so she took it from its tripod and mixed its content in the washing bowl until the water inside became lukewarm.

“Drink this first,” she said to Noah, handing him the cup. “Now, what do we have?”

As her patient downed the medicine, she carefully observed his body. There were some big gashes on his left arm near the shoulder, dried blood and mud obscuring the view and making it harder to further assess the injury. There were also some marvelous purple spots on the left side of his torso. Otherwise… her patient seemed fine.

Lorelei allowed herself a small sigh of relief but her tone remained cold as she turned to Noah.

“If you get an infection and die, it is entirely your fault.” She sat next to him with the washing bowl in her lap and started cleaning his wound.

“I know… Ouch! That hurts!”

“It’s not easy to remove blood and gunk hours after they’ve dried up.”

“You were much gentler last time!”

“Was I?”

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Lorelei ignored his protest and meticulously cleaned his injured arm until all for gashes were clearly visible.

“Are you going to stitch me up again?” Noah tried to sound nonchalant but there was still some nervousness in his voice.

“You are lucky. The mail protected you for the most part from whatever scratched you so a salve should be enough.”

Following her treatment plan right away, Noah’s upper arm soon donned some neatly tied bandages. Moving on, Lorelei started examining the bruises along his ribs. Her fingers pressed carefully a couple of times until a sharp hiss escaped her patient’s lips.

“You are lucky again. Your ribs don’t seem to be broken. A poultice and some salve for later on should suffice.”

Finishing his treatment, she wiped her hands clean and prepared to return the salves to their places. Her gaze lingered on his scarred body for a moment and she halted. There was something… not quite right. She couldn’t explain what, but something was giving her an uneasy feeling. Like she had missed an important clue.

“Is something wrong?” asked Noah a bit drowsily, catching her intent gaze.

She didn’t answer, her mind busy organizing the information her eyes were collecting. This time, his left upper arm and the left side of his chest were injured. Last time, it had been the left shoulder. Well, maybe someone was aiming for his heart but… She bent down and studied Noah’s older scars up close, completely ignoring his puzzled expression. There was a smaller scar just above the current wound, and two other across his left lower arm. Another one ran along the left side of his pelvis.

Lorelei stood up abruptly, grabbed a candle, and lit it from one of the lanterns.

“Cover your right eye,” she ordered the confused Noah who obliged.

Lifting up the candle, she moved it towards him but her hand was stopped by an iron grip.

“Whatever you want to do,” Noah’s voice was tense with a tinge of threat, “I would appreciate it if you don’t stick open flames into my face.”

“S-sorry.” She felt his fingers twitching slightly and hurried to blow out the candle. “May I use the lantern?”

“Yes. But it isn’t...”

Lorelei didn’t let him finish. Suppressing her guilt, she lifted the lantern to the burnt left side of his face. Peering straight into Noah’s eye, she started moving the light in different directions, sometimes increasing the distance, sometimes keeping it close to his head. After a couple of minutes, she put the lamp on the floor and held her hand next to his left ear.

“Keep your right eye covered, don’t move your head, and keep looking straight. How many fingers do you see?”

“This isn’t necessary.”

“How many fingers?”

“None.”

“And now?” She moved her hand slightly forward.

“None.”

“And now?”

This continued a few more times until he finally grumbled.

“Two. You are showing me two damn fingers. Happy?”

“No! Your vision is extremely narrow. That’s why you always get injured on this side! You are going blind with your left eye!”

“I could have spared you the time, had you just asked directly.”

“Who knows about this?”

“Duncan and Neli, and now you. Gregor and William probably suspect something.”

“What treatment are you using?”

“Treatment?” Noah snorted and pointed at his burn scar. “There is no treatment for this. I am lucky to even have an eye thanks to Tikotse’s hexes and Baba Marishka’s potions. It is something I knew would eventually happen.”

“How can you be so irresponsible every time your health is involved?” she blurted out and spun around, stomping towards her crates.

“Lorelei!”

“Count yourself lucky, Your Highness,” she grumbled. “I might be able to save what little sight you have left. Now sit quietly and let me do my job.”

She started piling up a new set of ingredients on her table while anger, fear, and sorrow fought over who will take a grip of her heart. That foolish man was too much! How could he behave so indifferently when his eyesight was at stake? He was indeed lucky that she had mastered preparing eye remedies thanks to Master Levi and his bad habit of straining his vision by reading late into the night.

Carefully opening a small package, Lorelei put a couple of golden-colored leaves from the maidenhair tree on her scales then tossed them in the remaining water in the copper kettle. Regulating the flame of her burner, she left the herbs simmer and took an empty glass bottle. Then she uncorked another vial, filling the room with the sweet fragrance of roses, and measured several drops in the new container. A quick look at the kettle and it was time to add a few stacks of eyebright and increase the heat. As the concoction cheerfully blubbered, she started grinding dried blueberries in her mortar, driving out her frustration with every hit of the pestle. After a couple of minutes, she added the boiling infusion to the blueberry powder and mixed them together.

During all the preparations, her patient had remained tactfully silent, which had given her time to calm down considerably.

“Put two drops in your left eye every evening before going to sleep.” She carefully strained the concoction two times through a fine cloth before adding it to the rose water in the flask. “Avoid rubbing it or irritating it in any other way. And no more reading at night. Do you understand?”

There was no answer.

Lorelei turned around and saw Noah huddled on the bench, his eyes closed, and his mouth slightly open. Slow, deep breaths escaped between his lips, and strands of black hair spread messily over his brow.

“This is no place to fall asleep,” she whispered with a wry smile.

Grabbing the blanket she had thrown on the floor, Lorelei carefully covered him up. As she tucked it around his shoulders, Noah winced and tensed up for a second but didn’t wake up.

“Have some rest, Your Highness.” She picked up a book and sat in an empty chair. “I will leave the nagging for later.”

***

As the peace returned to castle Ildemar, a lone silver shadow drifted before Lorelei’s door. It lingered for a moment before it flickered and seemingly dissolved into nothingness.

At the same time, Shana’s eyelids fluttered open and she sat up in her bed with an icy expression.

“You were right, dada. She has seduced him already.”

“Don’t worry, my sweet child. Your hex is almost finished. Soon, she will cause her own demise.”

Shana nodded and jumped down from the bed. Removing a looser plank near one of the bedposts, she took out a piece of snow-silk covered entirely with rust-red markings. Carefully spreading the cloth on the floor, the girl started arranging different herbs and bones around it. She then sat cross-legged, her palms – facing down towards the hex. Closing her eyes, she started chanting in a low voice.

“Evil to Evil, Dark to Dark. Of wretched soul – malicious spark. Show thyself for all to see. Hidden wraith, I’m cursing thee!”

The ghastly figure of the fake Yanosh that hovered next to her trembled and blurred, its face changing a couple of times before returning back to normal. The ghost quickly moved away to a safer distance, his eyes peeled on the child.

Even though the hex was not aimed at him; even though he had twisted it so that instead of revealing malice it was going to make its target go mad, the Star-gazer’s powers were strong enough to overwhelm the corrupt hex and drag him in. Akh-Moren could still feel her words reverberating in his soul, urging him to do her bidding.

A frown twisted the ghost’s face. He had separated from his body too often and for too long to the point of almost becoming an obedient little specter. It was time to return. The foundation of the hex was laid; the rest was up to his gullible little bride-to-be. Soon, they would reunite for real and he will take her away from this dirty place. But before that, there was something to do on the Spirit Plane.

Leaving the child chanting, Akh-Moren’s fake form slowly turned into smoke and disappeared.

***

It was a land of gray. An endless ashy plane with hills of dust stretching far into the distance and merging with a sky the color of granite. But on careful inspection, the ash-like particles forming hills and valleys were not gray; rather, they were comprised of all colors imaginable. Their iridescent surface pulsated and twisted in a matter that would make any person dizzy, were there any living people there. But this didn’t mean that the Spirit Plane was empty.

Here and there, colorful figures wandered the endless dunes. Men, women, children, their semi-transparent bodies dotted the landscape. Some were paler than others. Some flocked around a brighter soul while others drifted alone among the gray hills. Occasionally, an incredibly pale soul would stop, shook slightly, and then burst into iridescent ash. And then there were times when a strong, bright soul would hold its hands over the sand; the grains would tremble, swirl and reform to take human shape again.

The Spirit Plane was unchangeable, yet in constant shift – souls coming, going, merging with it. There was no wind, no clouds, no buildings or trees, no day or night but an eternal twilight. But there was a dark mist that rolled down the hills and crept in the valleys. It somehow felt out of place, neither part of the sky or of the dunes. It stretched its tendrils yearningly towards the ghosts, almost touching them, itself unseen and at the same time repelled by an unseen force.

But then, a lone figure emerged amidst the lonely mist. The dark fog rose and twisted around the man as if greeting him, seeping into his ever-so-slightly changing body.

Akh-Moren basked in the mist for a while, careful not to take in more than he could control. Still donning Yanosh’s face, he closed his eyes and his lips moved slowly.

“Come to me, Tengar.”

The ash particles shifted and spiraled up, soon forming the image of a trembling kneeling person.

“K-kush-turgan!” The ghost lifted his head showing his frightened face. “What happened to me? I… I can’t return to my body!”

“You died, Tengar,” replied Akh-Moren coldly.

“D-died?!” The shaman’s ghostly eyes became huge. “How is it possible? I was cut by a simple Limerian sword.”

“You were careless. Red Dawn is not any mortal weapon.”

“W-what now, kush-turgan?”

“Indeed, what now?” Akh-Moren pondered for a while. “I could try binding your soul to another body.”

Tengar’s face brightened but the leader of the Red Hands continued.

“I could, but you are not worth the effort. You allowed the Duchess to sniff us out and then let her escape alive. You revealed yourself prematurely and didn’t even manage to kill one of the Barons. Time and time again, you fail me.”

“P-please, kush-turgan!” The shaman stretched out his arms towards his master. “Don’t leave me here!”

“I won’t. I have no intention to allow you to blabber out our plans if the wrong people happen to summon you.”

“No-”

Tengar’s scream was abruptly interrupted as Akh-Moren grabbed his wrists. The shaman’s spirit twisted in a desperate attempt to escape but his efforts were futile. The dark mist surrounded the two, hiding them from prying eyes. When it receded again, Akh-Moren was the only one remaining.

“You might have been otherwise useless,” he chuckled, “but your soul will be excellent nourishment for me. Time to go back before the elders start to worry.”

In a flicker of light, Akh-Moren disappeared from the Spirit Plane. All that was left was the dark fog that slowly drifted away.