Eme’s famous bird pie was as delicious as promised. The fruit pie she’d made for Nelva, less so, but that was more of a consequence of having to use dried fruits rather than a comment on the catgirl’s cooking skills. Still, the Lepus knight seemed to enjoy it well enough.

Nobody spoke as they ate in companionable silence other than to complement Eme’s dish. The catgirl preened under the attention, even if her face alighted in a blush at the praise.

By the time Autumn felt full, she’d devoured two full slices of bird pie and a smaller taste of the fruit one. The others had likewise eaten their fair share. However, even with the vast amounts of food the party could put away, there were still some of the multiple pies Eme had cooked leftover. A testament to just how many birds they’d killed.

While Autumn would’ve liked to just sit in the afterglow of a good meal forever, all good things had to end.

Into the silence she spoke, telling the others of what she’d found. Of the tomb hidden away and of the ancient, immortal, and likely evil pharaoh imprisoned within. She told them of the possibility of finding a weapon forged to harm or even kill the hag they sought to end.

As her tale wound to a close, the rest of the party sat in contemplative silence.

Autumn swallowed nervously as she glanced at everyone. “So? What do you guys think? Should we explore this tomb while we wait out the storm or not? Even if we don’t find this weapon, there might be other things within it that might help us.”

The others glanced between themselves, seeing who was going to speak first.

Nethlia said nothing. With a tense jaw, she bore holes into the floor with an unwavering gaze, absentmindedly rubbing at the scars she’d gained a lifetime ago.

Seeing as their captain wasn’t going to speak first, Nelva did. She shook her head as she spoke. “Non, it’s too much of a risk. We don’t even know if this ‘weapon’ is real or if it can actually harm the hag. And we cannot risk unleashing this great evil onto the world. I am sorry, but my vote is no.”

“I disagree,” Liddie interjected, cutting Autumn off before she could speak. “Vehemently.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you knew that word,” Pyre said.

Liddie ignored her and continued on blithely. “Where’s your sense of adventure? This is a golden opportunity for us, pun thoroughly intended. Ok, while I admit robbing a temple isn’t the wisest of ideas, doing so to a tomb is totally different! It’s a time-honored tradition amongst adventurers! And the gods don’t care one bit! Why else do you think the makers of these places need to go to such lengths to trap and hide them? If gods didn’t want people to find and loot them, they never would.”

“Aye, but what o’ the traps, girlie?” Edwyn added gruffly. “Ye said so yerself that they trap these places to high heavens. In my experience, it’s always worse than yer expectin’ it tae be. I’ll go wit’ what the group decides, but I dinnae think it’s a risk we need tae be takin’.”

Liddie snorted. “Way to sit on the fence, Edwyn.”

The Runelord Manus ignored her as they helped themselves to another piece of pie. Eme happily helped dish out another slice.

“What about you two?” Autumn asked Pyre and Eme. “What do you think we should do?”

Pyre and Eme exchanged a quick glance.

Frowning, Pyre pushed the last of her pie around her mess tin. “I don’t know. Like Nelva said, it’s a risk, but there might be useful alchemical ingredients in there or potions we could use,” she said, biting her lip. A green light flashed in her eye as she thought. “I—I don’t know. We’re in enough danger as is — why should we go looking for more?”

Beside her, Eme shrugged, a carefree smile adorning her face. It was fake. “I’ll do whatever you want to do, Autumn. It sounds like fun. Exploring an ancient tomb would look good on my b-bardic college application, right?”

Autumn nodded, sending a reassuring smile the catgirl’s way.

“Three for and three against. Looks like it’s up to you, Net,” Autumn said to the quiet demoness, making sure not to color her voice either way. “What do you think we should do?”

For a long moment, Nethlia stayed silent, her leg bouncing rapidly in place as she thought. Running a hand through her wild hair, she glanced around at the others awaiting her judgment. With an explosive sigh, she spoke. “Alright, fine. We’ll do it. But!” she added, interrupting Liddie’s cheer. “We’ll do it right. That means no splitting up, we check every step and container for traps, and if I say we leave, we leave. Is that clear?”

Autumn smiled. “As crystal.”

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

“Ok, so tell me the riddle again,” Liddie asked as they stood before the statue of Suthir.

Once they’d decided on entering the tomb, the party had quickly spread out to look for the entrance hidden somewhere within the hall. However, no matter how much or how thoroughly they examined the walls and floor for cracks, crevices, or concealing magic, they could not find it. None of the faded murals or scripts shed any light on its whereabouts, either.

At a loss for what to do, they’d all gathered around the statue of Suthir, guessing it likely held a key to unveiling the surprisingly well hidden door.

Clearing her throat, Autumn recited the lines once more. “By three keys did they lock the ruler away, then hid within. By two weights, did they shut the way. And by one gift, did they seal it from sin. None of blackest heart could find the entrance forevermore.”

Edwyn grunted. “Seal, in this case, likely means conceal. Given how we cannae find the blasted thing.”

“Yes, thank you for stating the obvious, Edwyn.” Liddie rolled her eyes. “Ugh, why did they need to make it so complicated?! Give me a good old lock and we’d already be inside by now!”

“That’s likely why they didn’t do so,” Nelva said, amused. She turned to Autumn and nodded towards the statue’s raised palm as she spoke. “Could a gift also mean an offering?”

Autumn hummed. “It’s possible,” she hedged. “Those words are certainly interchangeable. But that still leaves the question of what to offer,” she mused. “Uh, by the way, are the sins mentioned here the same as the ones I know from my world? Things like Pride, Greed, Wrath, Envy, Lust, Gluttony, and Sloth?”

“Some of those, yes,” Nelva nodded. “Others not so much. It depends on culture. Wrath, for example, is a virtue to those who follow Nusraura. But it is a controlled wrath, not wild.”

“Sins here just refer to anything that would consign you to the hells,” Nethlia added with a shrug as she pondered over the riddle.

Autumn nodded. “That’s what they mean back home too, but I always thought it was more metaphorical than literal. Now I’m not so sure. Maybe our hells are the same, just known differently? I mean, they share a lot of similarities.”

“Sure, maybe, but let’s not get off topic.”

“What was the phrasing again?” Eme asked, tilting her head curiously to the side as she looked up at the statue.

“‘By one gift, did they seal it from sin.’ So maybe it means we need to give a virtuous gift? But the other line mentions that ‘none of blackest heart’ could find it, so maybe only an innocent person can open it?” Autumn shrugged. “It’s hard to tell.”

“How in the fiery hells are we going to find an innocent person around here?” Liddie said in total seriousness.

Autumn threw a heavy scowl the pirate’s way for her inconsiderate words. That she said them without a hint of facetiousness hurt more than if she was trying to mock.

Deciding to ignore both her and the dull ache in her chest, Autumn questioned the others. “What do you think the god of time would want? You know him better than me. Would he want gold? Gems? Magic items? Potions?”

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“He’d better not want any potions,” Pyre said, eyeing the statue. “We’ve got none to spare. Besides, didn’t you say ‘without sin’ or something? Wouldn’t us giving him wealth be a symbol of greed?”

“Greed is the desire for wealth and the excess, not wealth itself,” Nelva lectured.

“Do you think a god would care?”

“Perhaps,” Nelva shrugged. “Perhaps not. But maybe giving up wealth is what the sinful would never do?”

Nethlia shrugged. “It’s worth a try.”

Taking out a handful of golden coins, Autumn placed them on Suthir’s open palm and held her breath. Nothing happened. “Nope. Any other ideas?” she asked.

Behind the group, Eme’s ears perked up as an idea came to her. With no one noticing, she slunk silently back to camp to retrieve something.

“We could try a magic item?” Edwyn suggested. “Suthir is the master o’ magic, after all. Maybe we give him one o’ those cursed items? He might like them.”

“Worth a try,” Autumn shrugged. However, that too turned out to be dud.

“Blocked by a stupid riddle,” Liddie huffed, kicking a loose stone across the ground. “How ignoble. Maybe we should just get our good ol’ runemaster to just blow holes in the wall until we find it?” she said, framing the back wall between her fingers.

Edwyn snorted. “And trigger only the gods know how many traps in doin’ sae? Nae. Nae, thank ye.”

“Come on~ We’ll never get in at this rate. Just blow it up—”

Suddenly, the sound of a deep thud resonated through the air, interrupting Liddie’s tirade.

Autumn spun around back to the statue and saw a sheepish but prideful Eme standing before the effigy of the god. Upon the statue’s open palm, an empty plate rested that’d once held a delicious slice of bird pie. Now, not even crumbs remained.

The sapphire eyes glinted in the light.

Behind the statue of Suthir, a large mural shifted and warped across the back wall. Slowly, an image of a door formed within the flaking paint, stretching floor to ceiling. Amazingly, Autumn saw nothing in her magical sight. When the shifting illustration finally came to a stop, the entrance to the tomb lay before them.

Eme beamed. “I told you my bird pie was famous!”

Autumn chuckled. “So you did. How did you know that would work?”

“I didn’t. Not really,” Eme shrugged. “Back home, we leave offerings to our ancestors all the time so that they might eat nice food in the afterlife. I just thought Suthir might be hungry.”

Everyone stared at Eme until her cheeks turned bright pink.

Beside Autumn, Liddie muttered under her breath. “Looks like I was wrong — we have someone pure of heart with us after all.”

Autumn could certainly agree. Externally, she rolled her eyes and nudged Liddie towards the now revealed door. “Maybe. But we’re not done yet — we need to get a better look at that door and see if we can open it.”

“Yay, more puzzles,” Liddie said dryly.

Ever cautious, the party made their way behind the statue of Suthir towards the back wall where the towering, thin door awaited them. On its sandstone face, a tall and thin masked elf stood sentinel, illustrated by fine paints to glare down at whomever stood before it. Clad in a white linen skirt, the painted elf held a pair of copper khopeshes across its breast.

Painted vipers snaked down from the door’s frame to coil around a pair of raised tiles on the floor. They’d not been there before.

Glancing over the door, Autumn saw no way to open it, magical or otherwise. No handles, buttons, or bars. Her gaze flickered back down to the raised tiles.

“‘By two weights, did they shut the way,’” Autumn murmured. “Perhaps there’s a counter-weight system in the walls? Or something similar?”

Nethlia stood taut in front of Autumn, looking over the door with a strange intensity. “Maybe,” she said, before turning towards the party’s rogue. “Liddie, go check them out — see if they’re trapped.”

“Sure thing!” Liddie saluted. Strutting forward, she waved everyone back. “Make way, ladies. There’s a professional at work!”

Autumn rolled her eyes, but still hurried back alongside the others.

Crouching down, Liddie cast a scrutinizing eye over the raised tiles and viper motifs. “Hmm, I don’t see any obvious traps. No holes for gas or darts. Not spears either.” She cast her gaze up next, peering into the darkness. “Nothing above, either. Let’s see what’s below, shall we?” Taking a thin hooked blade from her belt, she slid it beneath the plate and carefully explored the trap. She bit her tongue between her teeth and closed her eyes as she felt her way around the plate’s mechanism with only the slightest bits of pressure. “Yep, it’s a pressure plate alright. Let’s see if I can— ah shit!”

Liddie sprang back in a roll instinctively as the painted viper lunged at her. When she rolled to her feet, she stomped down on the chasing snake. In its death, it turned back into naught but flaking blue and gold paint on the floor.

“I’m alright! Just tripped some kind of magical anti-tampering trigger. Surprised you two didn’t catch that,” she said towards Autumn and Edwyn.

Autumn had the grace to look mildly chagrined. “It’s not magic. Or at least not one I can detect. Divine maybe?”

Edwyn grunted in affirmation as they tugged on their beard in frustration.

“What can you tell us about the plates?” Nethlia asked impatiently. “And can you open the door or not?”

“Calm down, alright. I figured it out just fine,” Liddie said calmly as she brushed herself free of sand. “The door will open once you place a certain amount of weight on each plate. It’s dead simple. Almost insultingly so.”

“How much weight are we talking about?”

Liddie hummed. “Well, you’d trigger one just fine, or the combined weight of Autumn and myself would as well. The problem is that it needs a constant weight. Once you step off — bam! — the door shuts again.”

“That’s not ideal,” Nethlia said. “What about those snake traps? Will they trigger again once the plates activate?”

“It’s hard to say. Maybe, maybe not. Magic isn’t my thing, and if our mages can’t see anything…” Liddie shrugged.

Autumn looked around the hall in thought, her eyes ultimately drawn to the goblin bodies lying on bloodied sand in the empty pool. “What about them?” she gestured to the greenskin bodies. “Would they be heavy enough to hold down the plates?”

“Hmm? Yeah, but likely only for one plate, given how much a goblin weighs. We need something heavier to hold down the other. Something like…” Liddie’s eyes rested on the lazing bear. Ursa Ossa kicked slightly in his undead sleep.

Following her gaze, Autumn scowled. “Liddie!” she hissed. “I’m not using him to spring traps!”

“Why not? It’s not like it’ll die again.”

“He, not an it. And because it’s rude!”

“Autumn,” Nethlia said, giving the witch a look.

Autumn slumped. Releasing a heavy sigh, she whined. “Fine~ but if she,” Autumn jabbed at Liddie, “breaks him I’ll…I’ll…I don’t know what I’ll do, but it won’t be pleasant!”

“We’ll take that into consideration,” Nethlia smiled patiently. “Can you call him over, please?”

Rolling her eyes, Autumn let out a shrill whistle that awoke the sleeping bear. Ursa Ossa rolled over to give her a confused huff. However, he loyally stomped over to her when she gestured for him to do so. He pressed his enormous head into Autumn’s chest aggrievedly when he arrived before her. A resonant chuffing rattled the bones in her chest.

“Yes, I’m sorry for waking you, but I’ve got a very important task for you. You see that plate over there?” Ursa Ossa followed Autumn’s finger and let out a low rumble of acknowledgement. “I need you to lie on it and make sure the door stays open, okay? Can you do that?” Ursa Ossa let out another affirmative rumble before plodding over and flumping down on the plate.

Autumn winced at the sound of sandstone cracking.

The painted door remained tightly shut right until the others dumped the last goblin corpse atop the other plate in a messy pile. With a titanic grinding of stone, the door slowly opened, yawning inwards to reveal a long, dark hallway beyond.

“Alright gang!” Liddie clapped loudly, the sound echoing down the long hallway. Grinning wildly, she spoke. “There’s no time like the present, so let’s get to it! Get it? Cause of the god of time?” When nobody responded, she pouted. “Bah! Everyone’s a critic!”

Nethlia reached out and grabbed the pirate’s shoulder before she could flounce off. “Check for traps,” she ordered her.

“I was gonna!”

With a huff, Liddie approached the doorway and examined it for traps. “Hmm. Hmm? Hmm! Hmmmm~ Oh my~ That looks nasty. How’d they…oh, I see. Hmm. Hmm?”

“What is it?” Nethlia asked, annoyed by Liddie’s antics. “Did you find something?”

Liddie turned back to her, holding a reflective dagger up before her. “Yup!” she popped the ‘p’ “there’s a glowy thingy above the doorway. Very sneaky of them. And there’s a bunch of little pinpricks along the walls, likely for poison darts. I can deal with the darts, but I need one of our mages to take care of the glowy — magic’s not a specialty of mine.”

Both Autumn and Edwyn hurried over to Liddie and examined the sigil using their own bronze mirrors.

“Do you know what it is?” Autumn whispered to Edwyn.

The Manus nodded. “Aye. It looks like an agony trap tae me. If ye trip it, it’ll wrack ye wit’ blindin’ pain an’ force ye tae move as far away from it as ye can.”

“And right into the poison darts,” Autumn finished. “Ingenious and deadly. Think you can deactivate it?”

Edwyn snorted. “What dae ye take me for?”

After unbraiding a rune out of their beard, the runemaster flicked it contemptuously up at the agony trap. When the pair collided, there was a blinding flash of magic as the rune of dispelling activated. When the light died down, the trap was gone.

Liddie huffed and tossed her head back contemptuously. “You call that trap disarming? Stand back and watch a master at work.”

Taking her small tools in hand, Liddie plugged up a few of the holes so she could reach the first trigger plate safely. “Now, I just need to find the switch~ It should be around here somewhere. Aha! Got it. Now just need to wiggle this little bit like so andddd—”

Suddenly, there was a loud pinging sound and a thousand darts whizzed past Autumn’s face. She stared down at a sheepish Liddie blankly. She was very unimpressed with the pirate right now.

“Ehehe~” Liddie awkwardly giggled. “Guess I’m a little rusty~”

From the back, Nethlia growled. “Stop fucking around up there!”

Liddie gulped. “Sure thing, boss!” Turning back to the trapped hallway, she sighed. “Ninety-nine poison darts in the wall~ Ninety-nine poison darts~ Take one down, pass it around~ Ninety-eight poison darts in the wall~”