Sunny finally broke through her shock: "I told you.”

West barely caught her initial whisper, but as anger fueled her voice, it grew into a shout. Rounding on him, she said, “I t-told you, only a few minutes ago, that it w-wouldn't k-k-kill me, didn't I? I j-just said that, out in the hall. Were you n-not listening?"

The Investigator’s lungs froze, refusing to draw breath. He was already struggling to come to terms with Vera’s abrupt death. Sunny’s anger crushed what little composure he had left in reserve. Feeling lost for words, he murmured, "Lass, I–”

"Don't c-call me that. Don't– just d-don't." Sunny shook with a worn, sick fury, and paced back into view of the narrow passage. Seeing the unlucky scholar, she whipped around again– "Why d-didn’t you help HER! She was compelled, she’d been m-magicked, she needed help! And either way, it w-w-wouldn't have killed me. If you'd– if you'd h-helped her, helped...." A stricken look crossed her face, and she lowered her eyes, mumbling, "... V... it started w-with a...."

"Vera," Roman supplied. His mouth drawn over his ghost-pale face, his eyes were brighter than usual; but his voice remained steady. He didn't shy from his companion’s messy death, bending beside the body as though to check its pulse, or whisper it a secret.

Sunny was less stoic. One look at Roman standing near the split corpse, and her whole body shuddered with revulsion. Looking away, Sunny muttered viciously, “If you’d h-helped her, nobody would have died. Th-there’s no reason you should have… you d-don’t even know me, why w-wouldn’t you look after your own p-people first?”

West kept his mouth shut. Nothing he said would make this situation better. Not the fact that Vera would have fought him. Not the fact that Sunny was closer. Certainly not the fact that he did in fact know Sunny, be it from a long time ago.

Least of all, he did not say that he’d expected Roman to assist his adventuring partner. Why Roman had stood back and watched the scene play out, West didn’t know. Given the regard Vera had held for the nobleman, one command from him might have broken whatever geas had pushed her on.

Pointing fingers didn’t help Vera now though. If Sunny needed someone to blame, West could shoulder it. Anything it took to get the rest of them out in one piece.

A rocky SLAM snapped West out of his thoughts. Sunny yelped and jumped, eyes darting to the end of the hall. The bar of light had finished its journey and the pedestal room had sealed, casting the hall into darkness.

West struck up a sprite-light from his pack. Hyperventilating in the dim orange light, Sunny drew in her wings close against her, looking barely on the dry side of tears. Slumping against the wall, she slid down, holding Lím huddled close to her chest. Roman seemed lost in his own mind as he regarded Vera’s body.

West blew out his breath and put a hand to his head, trying to press against the pounding of his own heart in his ears. Mebbe I made the wrong move after all. He tried to imagine how he could have acted differently, anticipated better, kept Vera and Sunny both safe and living.

For a while– West wasn’t entirely sure how long, but thought it no longer than fifteen minutes– they stayed there, no one willing to break the silence. The only sound was the stray drip of some fluid leaking in the passageway, along with a noxious, pungent reek like rotten eggs and worse. Trying not to think about its source and pushing away his self-pity, West took advantage of the pause to rein in his focus. It wasn’t the first time someone died on his watch. At the rate things were going, he couldn’t even be sure it would be his last for the night. He’d have time to process his grief later– for now, he needed to master his mind and focus on the present.

From the hallway, Roman stood, nodding to himself. He seemed to have absorbed the new reality and reassessed the situation. With a broad step, he boosted himself atop the grisly stone half-blocking the passage.

With eyes now glistening and red, Sunny looked at the nobleman. “Wh… what are you doing?”

“Well, assuming that’s the only trap–” There was a clank. Roman halted, ready to spring away. Nothing happened. After several fast heartbeats, he chuckled. “Funny. Anyway, there’s no sense leaving anything useful behind.” Pushing his dead companion’s shoulder back, Roman pulled free the scholar’s wand case. Other than a dented corner, it had escaped being crushed– or, West suspected, Vera had protected it at the last moment. "West," Roman called, tossing the case to the Investigator.

West caught the case. The thing proved dripping and slick, and splattering something across his arms and vest. "Eugh– really, lad?" Sourly, the Investigator set the case on the ground.

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"Sorry," Roman said with an insincere shrug as he jumped down. Crouching to the case, he pulled a hidden lever, undid the latch, and flipped the case open. As he examined first the neat lines of wands, then the papers tucked behind each, Roman’s face pinched and twisted. “Didn’t she write down any instructions on how to use them?”

“Aye, well. Not many think about writin’ down what others oughta know if somethin’ were to happen to them,” West sighed. “Lots o’ folks workin’ this business figure on bein’ unkillable, ‘til it be too late.”

Frustrated, Roman clicked the case shut. “So these are complete junk, is what you’re saying. In our circumstances, we’re looking at a very expensive firewood collection.”

“If… if there were time,” Sunny murmured reluctantly, as though hating every word for its futility, “I could work it out. If there w-were one that you think could help, it could be worth it to t-try, but… do you remember what any of them d-do?” Roman's long silence was answer enough. She curled her arms tighter around Lím. “Ah. That’s… well. It probably wouldn’t have g-given us the chance to use it, anyway.”

"Well of course not, that might make you useful," Roman spat. With furious energy, he rose from his crouch and kicked the case aside. "I've had enough of this. How do we open the passageway again?” He nodded to the sealed passage.

“There w-was a glyph just past the starting door,” Sunny said, “so maybe…?”

“Ugh. Very well; to the start again, then.”

Roman stalked back into the twisting caves. When neither of his companions seemed eager to follow, he turned. “Well? Shall we? Or would you rather sit here and wait for daybreak?”

The Investigator waved reassurances after him, but his attention was on Sunny. She'd gone mute, eyes downcast, letting the shockwaves subside in the wake of Roman’s anger. “Dinnae give him mind,” West murmured to Sunny as the swordsman disappeared down the hall. “He’s not takin’ this so well.”

“It’s fine.” Rising to her feet, Sunny collected the case from the ground. “He’s right, anyway. There’s not much I can do to help.”

“He’s a right prick. Ye’re doin’ all ye can.”

Sunny’s eyes creased sorrowfully. “That doesn’t mean he’s wrong.” Several seconds of steady concentration, and the barest glow between the fingertips of her good hand; a light shimmer swept the outside of the case clean of grime. “I can barely manage even a little thing like this....”

West glanced toward Roman's retreating back. “Just as well, lass, ye shouldn’t be castin’ spells–”

At the first hint of disapproval, Sunny’s fingers recoiled from the case, and the shimmer flicked out snappishly. “Will you please stop c-calling me that?” More weary than angry, Sunny slipped the case strap over her shoulder and brushed past West.

“I’m sorry, I dinnae mean to, it’s jes’... ach.” Sunny wasn’t listening. The constant rejection stung him more than he cared to admit, especially in the raw wake of Vera’s passing. As West trailed behind, he asked, “Why does it bother ye so much, anyway?”

The Mani glared over her shoulder at him, but something she saw on his face softened her. “A friend of mine used to t-talk like that. It’s not your fault, it’s j-just… hard for me to hear,” she said. Turning her attention ahead and seeing Roman nearly disappeared from sight, she gasped and hurried to keep pace.

“Oh.” West pressed his lips together, feeling a fresh kick of guilt in the gut as he followed after. Did it hurt her so much to be reminded of him? What did she think he and the others had been doing all these years? Did she think they’d given up on finding her? He couldn’t blame her if she did. They’d been living their lives all this time, hoping for a lead, and she’d been… here. Never forgotten, but how could she know?

As they continued on, Sunny began to struggle. Keeping up with Vera must have drained the last of her reserves. She stumbled over the uneven ground, scraped her shoulders against the rocky walls, and stopped at moments to gulp air. Stalling at a climb, too exhausted to maintain her stubborn dislike of letting others near, Sunny even allowed West to assist her up. He’d have liked to take it slow, but Roman set a furious pace, and he didn’t dare let the swordsman get out of sight. Roman didn’t even wait to confirm they were ready when he reached the glyph at the cave’s start– the light illuminated overhead as Sunny staggered down from a meter-high drop. The woman’s face flashed weariness as she turned to climb it again, accepting West’s offered hand.

Roman caught up with them quickly, and spurred by his impatience, they reached the stone block hallway far ahead of the pacing light. Roman pushed ahead of them in the wider passage, hopping over the block that had killed Vera without a side glance at the body.

Sunny followed more reluctantly, her boots nearly slipping on the ghastly mess running over the surface. Dropping onto the other side of the half-pillar, Sunny stalled and turned.

With a hushed “I’m sorry,” the Mani closed Vera’s staring eyes. The squirrel in her arms chittered. “Yes, I know,” Sunny murmured, then turned away. West followed morosely.

At the passage’s end, the cheerfully bright room was the most hollow of finish lines. Even the sight of an open doorway leading to the third hallway couldn’t lift the air of melancholy as Roman entered. The swordsman eyed the vacant pedestal in the room’s center. Whatever wand had led Vera so eagerly to her end had either been stolen away while the group had backtracked, or more likely, only ever been a fragment of illusion.

“What a waste,” Roman sneered, putting his boot to the slender pedestal and shoving it over.

Sunny jumped as it smashed on the ground, snapping into pieces. Several thick chunks scattered across the ground as West crossed the threshold into the room. “Roman! What’s this ruckus now?”

“Nothing. Let’s go.” Roman led the way through the doorway with long, angry strides, forcing the others to scramble to keep up or be left behind.

Picking his way over the broken pedestal, West took a final look back to their fallen comrade. Sorry, lass. I cannae fix what’s happened til now. His eyes led him forward, to his companions. But I’ll do me best fer what comes next.