The Sexy Badger tavern was crowded as Syler and Twigly stepped into the common room. Perfumes mixed with the smell of booze and sweat. Zadrera stood behind the bar, nonchalantly cleaning a mug while watching over her establishment.

"This place is…"

Syler shrugged, "Yep. Make yourself at home. I'll only be a minute."

As Syler stepped over to the bar, Twigly sat on a poof nearest to the door, silently watching the goings-on.

"Where have you been?" Zadrera said with genuine relief.

"Had to take care of something."

"Given you're here, and the friend you left by the door, you must have been successful."

"Quite. Don't worry about him. Please let Destin and Winny know I'm back and to meet me as soon as they can."

Zadrera nodded. "Anything else?"

"Any word from Kagun?"

"Nothing's crossed my desk, no."

"Thank you." Syler pushed back from the bar, but Zadrera placed a hand on his.

"Wait." She turned and rifled through a stack of papers. "These were left for you two weeks ago. About an hour between deliveries."

Two letters. One significantly heavier than the other. He flipped the heavy one first. The Lawson seal. He tucked it into his pocket for later and flipped the lighter one. His breath caught.

Her handwriting.

Swallowing down the surge of emotion, Syler tucked it away too and left the bar, motioning for Twigly to follow.

"That is a fascinating place," Twigly said with a look more of curiosity than desire.

Syler, too distracted to answer, walked in silence until they stood before Bartle's front door. Gentle music drifted from the open window as the smell of sweet and savory pies wafted from the same.

The door swung open as Syler was raising his hand to knock. "You're back!" Bartle pulled him into a hug, then hastily pushed him to arms length. "You, sir, smell like a forest of sweaty lumberjacks."

"I'm going to shower," Syler said numbly, shifting past Bartle to head upstairs.

"Is he okay?" Bartle asked Twigly.

Twigly looked up at Bartle, "He was silent the whole way here after receiving letters from the Sexy Badger."

"He'll tell us when he's ready."

----------------------------------------

Syler's hands shook slightly as he looked over the letter. The red wax seal displayed the symbol she had created to represent the Grove. He took several heavy, steadying breaths, summoned a shadow blade, and gently popped the seal. The paper carried hints of her bathing oils, and the scent sent tears down his face.

My Dearest Syler,

I love you so very much, and I am sorry you have to receive this letter, as it means I have passed across the Veil. Hopefully this is after a long life of happiness, but knowing us, likely not. Shadows of the past have a way of returning.

As I was most likely killed, you are now no doubt on the hunt for the killer. I can not stop you, so I can only give you advice. Do not do this for revenge. Revenge only creates more darkness in your heart. I do not wish for you to fill with darkness, but to move on from this. Find joy and light in life, feel the grass between your toes, give Toots lots of pats for me. And if you must fight, do it for justice and peace. For balance.

Do not let the shadow overtake you. I love you.

Cara

She had told him similar things in the trial, but reading her words bolstered his resolve. He set the hot water running, wiped the tears from his face, and opened the heavy envelope from the Lawsons. It was too small to possess any kind of dangerous traps, so he dumped it across the bathroom counter.

One small parchment, one larger folded one, and a cloth wrapped object scattered across the counter. He started with the small parchment.

Syler,

I never wanted Cara to die. My idiot brother pushed the issue, and here we are. I don't want to die for his mistakes. Hopefully this will push leniency toward me. Last week, our father had a state of the art security door installed to keep us safely locked up.

It's unpickable, and you need one of three amulets to disarm it. I picked Max's amulet, and enclosed it in this envelope. The larger parchment has the general guard locations near the sealed door, the best I can do.

Please don't kill me.

Admon Lawson

The amulet in the cloth bag was unlike any Syler had seen before. It had the Lawson seal on the front, and six legs that bent away from the seal, giving it a slightly beetle-like appearance.

The map was crudely drawn, clearly done in secret. Assuming it was correct, the information would be incredibly valuable in the planning.

When Syler walked back down the stairs, Bartle's table was crowded. Bartle, Morrigan, Twigly, Santar, and the newly arrived Winny and Destin all cradled cups of hot tea in hand. Morrigan motioned to the final empty chair and unclaimed mug.

"I see you all made it. Good. There is much to discuss. Thanks for the tea."

"Anytime," Morrigan answered.

Destin and Winny shared a look, then she spoke up, "We'll start. You were gone for a bit, so we did some digging."

She pulled out an old, tattered piece of paper. "This is from the Construction office."

"The what?" Santar scratched his head.

Bartle patted him on the shoulder, "It's in the Guild District. They hold onto all the paper with drawings of buildings in the city."

"Gotcha!" Santar downed the tiny cup of tea with one gulp, then pulled out a bejeweled tankard that filled itself with golden ale as he set it upon the table.

As Destin unfolded the paper, Syler took a sip of tea. "Two mugs max, big guy. Need you in top form today."

Santar laughed and drank deeply.

Morrigan leaned over the layout, "We may all need some liquid courage for this."

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"What do you mean, dear?"

"The enchantments shown here are complex, very dangerous, and will take time to decipher."

Syler sighed, "Time we don't have. The longer we wait, the more dangerous the Lawson's are making our task. I know they changed the vault door in the sub basement while I was tied up in the Grove, likely more."

He placed the Lawson envelope on the table next to the enchantment blueprints. Morrigan read Admon's letter aloud. Destin snickered at the last sentence.

"I have no intentions of killing anyone but Maxwell, though I fear Raynard may need some persuading, hence why the big guy is here."

"But we need to know how to dismantle these other, old enchantments if we want to have a chance at getting down there," Bartle said.

"How do we do that?"

Morrigan ran her hand along the outer edges of the blueprints, stopping in the lower right corner. "Oba Oddamor."

"The enchanter?" Bartle asked, "She's been dead for at least a century now."

Santar patted him hard on the back, pushing him into the table, "You speak to ghost! I dig!"

Syler raised an eyebrow, "That's… surprisingly clever. Can you still do that?"

Bartle shrugged, "It's been a while since I've done it, and I need to prepare it. Do we even know where she's buried?"

"I do," Syler said, "I've recently been spending a lot of time in the graveyard district. Saw the name in passing while ambling through the gravestones."

He told them where he saw the headstone, then Bartle, Morrigan, and Santar left to question the dead.

"While they are doing that, what will we do?" Twigly asked.

Winny tapped on the blueprint at a point on the second floor. "You see this mark?"

Twigly nodded thinking out loud, "It is a barrier?"

"Prismatic," Destin said. Twigly whistled.

"We talked to several runecasters at the University of Magi, and they said it's practically impassable."

"Can we dispel it?" Syler asked.

Winny shook her head, "Not without significant time and equipment. Can't phase through it either."

"And I'm guessing it emits light."

"Yep. No shadow walking."

"Damn."

"Can we burrow under it?" Twigly said, etching a small rune in the air before him.

"The barrier likely encases the whole area. We need to cancel it out somehow. Shut it down."

Destin thrummed his fingers against the table nervously. "Nullstone."

Syler began shaking his head just as Winny excitedly patted Destin on the back. "Not possible."

A look of confusion spread across Twigly's face, "I am unfamiliar with the nullstone."

"It temporarily creates an area where no runes function. But they're heavily regulated by the Guild since one was used to collapse a building held up by runes several decades ago," Syler said as he stood and began pacing.

Winny stood also, but adventure glistened in her eyes. "Are we going to the Penumbral Sanctorum?" Syler stopped pacing, and Destin looked agape. "It's the only place we know for sure will have one."

"We only saw it once," Destin balked. "And during training they said to infiltrate means certain death. Wraiths surround it."

"And you can only get to it through Penumbra itself. Extremely dangerous," Syler said, "but that does give me an idea. Twigly, can you shield us from them somehow?"

Twigly closed his eyes in thought for several moments before answering, "There are such runes that protect against the undead, depending on what you are trying to do. Are you wanting more of a physical shield or making us invisible to them?"

"Invisible would be ideal, as we don't want to engage with them unless absolutely necessary."

"Masking our presence requires more Teknaus than the physical shield, and will not last as long."

"How long can you give us?" Winny said.

"A few minutes at the most." Destin swore under his breath as Winny sighed.

"We only need to get through the door, so that should be enough time," Syler said with more hope than he felt.

"Then let us get to it!"

----------------------------------------

Night had fully fallen by the time Bartle, Morrigan, and Santar entered the fourth district of Sartak City. The housing that skirted the walls of the district were all but covered in the dust that seemed to constantly settle across the area. Santar sneezed and waved his hands before his face.

"Gross dust."

"Indeed," Bartle said, heading for the nearest graveyard. "We're near the crematorium. Try to avoid the ash clouds."

Morrigan etched the hunting rune and the death rune in the air before her and muttered, "Oba Oddamor." A line appeared where the runes had been and it turned, pointing deeper into the graveyard. "This way."

They walked for several minutes before the first skeleton rose from the soft earth to their right. It wore dirty tattered clothes and slowly ambled toward them. Hands erupted from the soil around the first, and one became eight. Eight became thirty.

Bartle stood close to his wife with his shield up, ready to fight should the need arise.

He needn't have bothered.

Santar clapped all four of his hands with glee and ran over to them, not even bothering to tap into his primal rage or draw his weapons. He had been fighting very strong creatures in the arena for years. A few skeletons shouldn't be a problem.

Bones scattered across the ground as he swung punch after punch. He bent down to grab a skeleton by its leg and swing it at another, bursting them both into piles.

Santar didn't notice the bones rolling longer than they should, amalgamating into a large pile.

Bartle did.

As the necrotic energy coalesced through the gathering bones, Bartle palmed the medallion around his neck, the symbol of Pallerva the goddess of wisdom and commerce alighting with power. The chain popped loose as he extended his arm and muttered a prayer. A radiant beam blasted out from the symbol, striking the roiling bones. Many burst into ash, but the movement continued.

The bone golem rose to a height of 7 feet, a chunk of its middle missing from Bartle's holy blast.

The sea rune of Atlantia and the stone rune of Urrutia etched out before Morrigan as she drew liquid Teknaus from a small receptacle at her side. The ground beneath the bone golem became fluid, sinking down to its waist before the ground became solid again.

Santar kept happily throwing the skeletons around, not noticing the golem until it had already been trapped in the ground. He finally drew his axes. Frost and lightning smashed into the shifting bone golem, the roar of laughter accompanying scattering bones.

The golem clawed at Santar, tearing a huge gash across his chest. It did little to slow him, and the icy axe sent frost across the hulking shoulder.

Bartle drew his rapier and ran around to the flank the golem, radiant energy coating his blade as he struck the frozen shoulder. With a sizzle the arm fell from the golem, the bones still shifting to return to the creature's body.

Flames erupted around Morrigan as her form shifted into a fire elemental, floating into the same space as the golem and slipping among the shifting bones.

The sound of crackling intensified as dry bones blackened and the golem began to burn from the inside out.

“Pretty fire not steal my kill!” Santar roared, his rage flaring up as he pressed the advantage. Bartle's presence opposite him kept the golem from maintaining a singular focus. His axes swung in horizontally, cutting the golem in half, the top crashing hard against a headstone, crushing it.

The golem's movements were beginning to slow, and the swirl of bones was becoming less as they burned. Bartle held out his symbol once more and a burst of radiance burst from the clouds above, shattering any remaining movement. The flame shifted away and died down, Morrigan seeming to step from behind a burning curtain, she had a small cut across her torso.

“Be more careful, Santar. Please.” Morrigan etched the life rune and pressed it into her torso, the small cuts disappearing. She winced and waivered unsteadily for a moment.

Having already put his axes across his back, Santar sat down against another of the headstones, taking a few moments to calm, “Singy priest man stole kill. Not pretty fire. Sorry.”

“My dear, can you fix the headstone?”

“We'll let the caretakers know what's happened. I don't want to expend too much energy in case we need to fight more of those things. Why don't we cremate the people buried here again?”

“Well,” Bartle said, “they tried that for a time. With so much death centered here, with no remains to animate we got ghosts, ash wisps, and other incorporeal manifestations. Harder to kill without Teknaus infused weapons, so they pretty quickly went back to burying them.”

Oba Oddamor's tombstone was elaborate, with runic carving across it that kept it clean and free of damage. She had designed it herself before her passing. It stood obelisk, black with gold etchings. The only bits of color were the series of inset spoons that lined along the base. These were of varying colors, sizes, and shapes.

“Spoons!” Santar said, poking at them with a thick finger.

“Enchanters can be odd sometimes,” Bartle said.

Morrigan agreed, “And who knows what purpose these may have served, if any at all. Could just be sentimental junk.”

Bartle pulled a small book from a pouch he kept at his side. “Santar, if you would be so kind as to dig up the coffin. My dear, the Soul Communion.”

Santar dropped his axes to the ground before plunging his four hands into the soil, piling up soil.

Morrigan opened her coin pouch, “The Soul Communion can affect an individual,” she stacked ten white draka on the headstone. “We'll need more than two minutes, so Diameter is too short a time to ask our questions, so you'll be concentrating on this,” Bartle nodded, and Morrigan counted out 100 white draka in ten stacks of ten. “ She stacked ten more white draka, “And of course you'll be touching her for the ritual. Should only take a little more than a half hour, working together.”

“Thank you, my love.”

He grabbed one of the stacks and began laying out the draka in a pattern of the rune of Pallerva, Goddess of Wisdom, while Morrigan did the same for the rune of Chaldia, Goddess of Death.