Ihra nodded, her hand clutching the grip of Aphora’s misericorde tightly. “Yeah, I see 'em. Do you think we can avoid a fight?"

Jasper glanced over his shoulder. The group had continued to swell and, perhaps emboldened by their numbers, had abandoned all pretense of innocence. The leader met Jasper's gaze with an easy grin and a naked sword.

"Yeah, I don't think we have a choice." Jasper lifted his hands, wreathing them in pale blue fire as he grinned back at her. “But I bet they weren't expecting to run into a mage.”

As one, the two stopped, spinning around to face their attackers. With a single smooth motion, Ihra unhitched the bow from her back, notching an arrow at the leader.

With Ihra covering his back, Jasper approached the gang that had been following them; he let the fire lapse, not wanting to waste his essence needlessly, but prepared a spell. Just in case. His boldness paid off - the Moon-kissed's confidence turned to confusion as their would-be-prey approached them with utter unconcern, allowing him to approach unharmed,

Jasper was surprised at how he felt calm as he faced down the pale, giant hooligans. They outnumbered him and Ihra ten to one and yet… Jasper wasn’t a betting man, but if he was, he’d happily place a bet in his favor.

He plastered on a friendly grin as he stared up at the gangly Moon-kissed. “Now I’m sure you gentlemen don’t mean to be unfriendly, but I’d appreciate it if you’d stop following us. Go find some other targets.”

A derisive snort broke the silence as one of the crowd pushed his way to the front. Taller than most of his peers, the Moon-kissed towered over Jasper, peering down at the smaller Djinn with undisguised malevolence. The pupils in his eyes were so large that the sclera was barely visible, giving the impression from a distance that his eyes were pure black.

Jasper realized with a sinking feeling that this particular bully wasn’t going to back down. “That pretty red skin might mean something where you came from, but you ain't in the south." The Moon-kissed grinned, revealing a mouth bereft of teeth save for four especially large fangs, two at the top and two at the bottom. He waved at the crowd, which scurried past them with averted eyes. "No one's going to save you."

Jasper shrugged, willing the essence out of the faint, blue tattoos on his hand. A halo of flames wreathed his hands, their tongues early licking their way up his forearms as he met the leader’s eyes with a calm, steady gaze. “I don't need saving.”

At his sudden display of magic, most of the Moon-kissed darted away into the welcoming shadows of a nearby side street. A handful, though, were made of sterner stuff, closing ranks around their leader as they drew their weapons.

A flicker of uncertainty passed through the Moon-kissed’s eyes, but it was replaced almost immediately by bravado. “Parlor tricks won’t save you,” he sneered. Raising his voice, he yelled into the side street. “And I’m coming for you cowards next if you don’t get your asses back over here.”

One or two started to slink out of the shadows, guiltily trying to sneak back into the group, but Jasper had had enough. I tried, he told himself. Lifting his hands, he cast the spell. Purge.

For a second, Jasper feared the unreliable spell had once again failed. The leader began to laugh, his voice booming through the street. “You see, boys - I told you he was bluffing. His little “spell” does nothing-“ The strong voice suddenly cut off, only a strangled noise escaping his mouth.

The Moon-kissed fell on his knees before Jasper, his kneecaps slamming into the stone pavement with a sickening crunch. He clutched at his throat as his lips parted in a silenced scream. Panic coursed through his wide, black eyes, begging for relief as the fires of judgment ate him from within. Seconds later, his withered corpse collapsed on the street.

Fire bloomed on Jasper’s hands as he met the rest with a steady gaze, daring them to attack him. There was a moment of hesitation. Despite their leader’s gruesome demise, the thought no doubt ran through their mind that if they all jumped him at once, they could take him - he can’t kill all of us, right? But no one wanted to be the one that died. Their will broken, the group scattered.

The crowd on the street disappeared with them, leaving Jasper and Ihra alone. Moving quickly, Jasper frisked the withered Moon-kissed, snatching out his coin purse. Then he ran back to Ihra. Grabbing her hand, the two raced down the street, not wishing to discover what would happen if the crowd regained their courage. Plus, Jasper admitted to himself, I don’t want to be here when the authorities arrive. Technically I struck first.

Their headlong flight down the street was unimpeded; even when they turned the corner into a street still bustling with the giant-sized Moon-kissed, the crowd parted before them like waves before the sandals of Moses. Somehow, they managed to follow the old merchant's directions as they ran, only grinding to a halt as their objective loomed before them - the entrance to Naḥas̆s̆innu.

What must have once been a magnificent palace dominated the site. Towering over its neighbors, the massive stone edifice tapered up from a wide platform with a shape that reminded Jasper of Devil’s Tower.

The manor was enormous, its base dwarfing every other building he had seen thus far in the city. Hundreds of ornate windows were set into its tower, most long ago shattered or cracked, while two large statues, tall enough to make even the giant Moon-kissed look small, guarded its steps. The statues were odd, depicting humans mixed with animalistic features. One had the head of a hawk with a snake clutched tight in its talon-like feet while the other had the horns of a deer wreathed in moss, a bow dangling from its back.

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A large wall enclosed a courtyard before the building, but its ornate gate hung slightly ajar, the once bright metal now dulled and listless. But above the gate a single sign was posted, its simplicity a stark contrast to the tarnished opulence.

ONLY THE DEAD ENTER THESE GATES.

Jasper and Ihra were undeterred, deftly slipping through the crack left by the open gate. It was a tight squeeze for Jasper, the gates groaning in protest as he shoved his way through. But as they stepped into the courtyard, hidden from the view of the street, his breathing begin to calm. Well, at least we didn't get mobbed. For a second, he’d been sure the rest of the gang was going to jump him.

Jasper was confident he and Ihra could’ve beaten them - fairly easily even - but not without collateral damage, and he really didn’t want to attract unnecessary attention from the local dignitaries. Thus far, his experience with Djinn nobles had been largely negative. But we should be safe now.

The instant the thought crossed his mind, he cursed himself. Let’s not go jinxing ourselves. The idea of a jinx had always seemed like a silly superstition on earth, but here he wasn’t so sure. Quite frankly, he was in no mood to test it. Kas̆dael watch over us, he thought. Kas̆dael watch over us.

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Ihra glanced around the ruined courtyard skeptically. Is this really the place Arutû sent us? Her eyes trailed up the shaft of a finely crafted pillar; the gold that had once ordained its capital had now been largely scraped away, although faint traces of it remained visible to her enhanced vision.

This place must have been magnificent once, but is there still a trial here now? Maybe Arutû’s information was out of date. Her heart sunk at the thought. She didn’t truly understand how the gods worked, but Arutû was tied to the mountain - he was the mountain, in some sense - so perhaps his map was too old to be useful.

With a vigorous shake of her head, Ihra pushed the doubts haunting her away. Surely a god wouldn’t offer us something worthless.

The two walked together across the ruined pavement. The untended grass had grown waist high, obscuring the ground, but Ihra noted the tips of small saplings peaking their heads over the fronds of grass. If this place has been abandoned as long as it looks, there should be trees by now. Maybe someone occasionally tends the place. She resolved to be more watchful.

Two giant red doors led into the building which, after a moment’s pressure, gave way, swinging open with an ear-aching shriek. But what waited inside the building was not what either of them had expected. But as her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, the realization struck her. Naḥas̆s̆innu was not a building: it was an entrance.

What lay before them was a city within a city. A massive crater plunged into the earth. Its sides flared wide at the top, gradually narrowing as it sloped inward. Even with her superior vision, though, Ihra was unable to catch a glimpse of the bottom which was swallowed up in the shadows.

Thousands of pale white buildings lined its walls, their open windows overlooking the gaping void. The city appeared abandoned, at least at the top, but as Ihra stared into the depths below, she thought she saw something moving in the corner of her eyes. But when she turned her head, squinting into the darkness, there was nothing there. Guess my eyes are playing tricks on me.

Jasper mumbled something beneath his breath, and she wrested her eyes away from the unexpected sight. There was something eery, unsettling about that darkness that filled her with a desire to run away and forget all about the trial, but Ihra was not so easily spooked. “What did you say?”

He spoke up this time, pointing at the vast crater. “S̆admūti - this is the missing mountain.” It took her a moment to understand his words. But as his finger traced the outline of the crater she saw it: the crater formed the shape of an upside-down mountain, a mountain of darkness rather than stone.

And a mountain of death.

A chill ran down her spine as she stared into the abyss. Somewhere down there was the trial, but who knew what else lingered down there. And how are we even supposed to find this sepulcher in a city this big? Ihra dug Arutû’s map out of her bag, plastering it across the ground. Maybe there was something I missed?

To her surprise, the map had changed. Where previously the map had depicted the upper city, marking the location of Naḥas̆s̆innu in one of the southern sections, the upper city had been replaced by the void that stretched before them. There weren't many details on the map, but a spot was marked close to the bottom of the pit. Kaksû's Sepulcher.

A wave of relief washed over her as she saw the new mark. With her faith in Arutû's directions restored, she waved Jasper over. “Looks like we got new marching orders.”

But finding a path that actually led down into the city proved to be more challenging than expected. They almost immediately stumbled upon a set of stairs that led up, leading no doubt into the tower of broken windows that they had seen outside. The entrance to the lower city, however, was nowhere to be found. For two hours they circled around the perimeter of the abyss, looking in vain for a means of descent, before finally arriving back at their original point of entry.

Ihra chewed on her lip as she scanned the shadows again. “I don’t get it - there has to be a way down.” Jasper wandered over to the rim, peering down into the underground city. “Guess we could get a rope and let ourselves down that way - although the nearest landing looks kind of far; it would have to be a really long-“ His words cut off, and he leaned over the railing, craning his head in an awkward position.

“Hey Ihra, come here.” A second later she joined him. “You’ve got better eyes than me - is that a staircase?” Jasper pointed to the darkness directly below them. It was difficult to see from this angle, so Ihra hopped the fence, leaning out over the void as she fought to get a better view.

A wide stone staircase lead down into the depths, its top almost directly beneath where they were standing. She swung back over the railing, scampering into the center of the room. She hadn’t paid any attention to it previously, but a large circular mural decorated the floor in the area where the stairs should be.

Great. A hidden entrance.