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Marcus took each step of the steep spiral staircase at a rapid pace. The weight of Nimbus on his back actually aided his speed, counterbalancing him during his swift descent. His eyes itched, and his heart was beating faster than normal. He should've slept before going back downstairs. The Coffin was much too dangerous a place without stacking the odds against himself like this. At least he had his blade with him again.

To his surprise, he had grown unused to moving with Nimbus in the few days he'd put the blade down. He kept knocking his elbows and shins against the weapon. It made him feel young again, like the early days in his career as a vagabond warrior after he left the mountainside. But it unnerved him. He shouldn't be feeling young. Young adventurers made mistakes. He should be feeling grizzled, like a veteran.

The way through The Coffin was still empty, save for bones and Marcus himself. The underground pool remained still as death, and Marcus took a deep breath before plunging deep down. He had two strong arms propelling him against the current now, and his head broke the surface on the other side with breath to spare. He pulled himself out of the water and shook himself, droplets splattering against the stone. He trotted off, and in no time at all he stood before at the ruined chapel again.

Marcus stood before the three doors near the wrecked casket, two of which he'd traveled before. The last door laid at the wolf's feet, nothing but ancient splinters rotting beneath tons of cold rock. Marcus reached into one of his coat's many pockets, procuring one of Astari's enchanted scrolls. As he began to unfurl the cloth, a musical note chimed in Marcus' ear, a sort of crystalline bell tone that inexplicably reminded the wolf of snowfall. "Do be sure to place the rune face down on the rock." The wolf jumped, throwing knives clattering to the floor as Astari's voice echoed through his ears, as if the great dragon were right next to him.

"What in the Twin Hells was that?" Marcus' fur was bristled, arms already extracting Nimbus from its harness. His green eyes blazed as his head whipped back and forth, instinctively looking for the source of the noise.

Astari's voice took on a sheepish tone. "I was tracking your progress after you left. I wanted to see how vast this place truly was, to see as you saw so that I could better map where you've been. I also wanted to test how far my magic could stretch now that another seal is broken."

"I don't appreciate you trifling with my head, Lizard," grumbled Marcus, returning Nimbus to its harness. His right hand was still gripping at the cloth wrapped handle. "Especially without you asking first."

A rustle of wind reached Marcus' ears, as if the dragon was sighing. "You're not incorrect. I should have asked if you wanted assistance before following you. I hope you weren't thinking I was spying."

"Well I do think you're spying." Marcus bit his lower lip, eyes still narrowed in a glower as he began to retrieve his dropped knives. "But I need to know this before you cease your trespassing. When you were inside my head, what did you see?"

"It's a bit more complicated than just seeing..." Astari spoke tentatively, clearly not wanting to anger Marcus again. "Entering a mind is like entering a house. There are different rooms, spaces where the fragments of the mind that form a person can reside. Imagine that your eyes are the front door. The parts that are most prominent part of a person take up the rooms closer to the eyes, and that is where I'm presiding. The "room" I'm standing in has a lot of weapons hanging in it, including Nimbus and Priscilla. But that's all I've seen. I've been too focused on your eyes."

Marcus was nearly shouting. "Stop! Stop! Won't you shut up? Listen to yourself! It's like you're giving a tour of a goddamned house. Those are MY thoughts and feelings you're wandering through, and you didn't even have the courtesy to ask me if you were welcome at the first place!"

The bell tone chimed in Marcus' ear. "I shall leave if you wish it..." The great dragon's normal rumble was softer, lighter, less reptilian. "I didn't want to intrude... I never meant it like this. It was just the only way I knew to help you stay safe. From this plinth where I lay, I am as close to powerless as one such as me can be."

Marcus was taken aback by Astari's tone. The reddish color of anger faded away from the wolf's mind, and he felt Astari still in his head as an icy shadow, diminished and cowed. Marcus wasn't sure if should be touched by what Astari had said or remain furious at this enormous invasion of privacy. He let out a low, bestial growl. "To Jehanna with it. Since you're already here, make yourself useful. How should I lay these runes you gave me?"

Astari spoke quickly, eager to lead them away from the subject of his intrusion. "It's best to lay them face down on the rock, aiming it towards the very center of the ruined hallway. The blast is conical, so you should be relatively safe from any flying debris. I'd still keep away from the blast. I can't guarantee any stray rocks won't fly your way. And the trigger is 'illiteracy is my-"

"Yes, yes," grumbled Marcus. "Illiteracy is my only def-" He abruptly clamped his muzzle shut as the scroll in his hand emitted a dangerous yellow glow. Rookie mistakes... Biting his lip again, Marcus slapped the rune face down on the largest rock and took cover behind the ruined sarcophagus. In a clear, carrying voice Marcus spoke the catalyzing words. There was a flash of golden light that threw the ruined chapel into garish contrast, followed a second later by a cacophonous bang. There was a great clattering as fragments of rock crumbled to the floor.

Marcus peered over the lip of the black coffin. The explosive rune certainly did its work. It left much of the halls cleared, if a little tough to navigate due to the abundance of rubble. The wolf raised the glowing crystal around his neck, examining the cavern ahead. He groaned. Behind the rubble left by the blast lay even more rock, ensuring the hallway remained impassable. "Do you think we can get through with only four scrolls?" Marcus was unsure why he spoke aloud, considering no one was with him, but Astari seemed to be able to hear him while he remained resident in his consciousness.

"Only one way to find out," said the dragon, his voice accompanied by the same crystaline ping as he spoke. "You could always rip down those tapestries so I could make you more... It'd be best if we didn't need that. I've no doubt something heard that explosion, and I think we'd rather skip the welcome party, don't you?"

"Yes, you have a point," said Marcus, this time trying to think the words instead of saying them aloud. "But now that I have Nimbus back I wouldn't mind a chance to test my mettle again, to know how well I'll fair after my recent ordeals."

"I see where you're coming from," responded Astari as if they were speaking back in the treasure room. "Although I still think it would be prudent to not waste our time on the denizens of this cursed cave. Use as many of the scrolls as you need to get through this hallway. Our best option is to keep moving."

Marcus nodded, producing the second scroll. Navigating the ankle-deep rubble, Marcus placed another rune face down on another large boulder. He returned to the edge of the hallway, taking cover around the corner before clearly enunciating the trigger words. Another garish flash, another dreadful bang, and the entrance to the passage erupted with more shrapnel, like the gaping maw of some giant vomiting rock. As the dust cleared, Marcus saw that the hallway was still uncleared.

It took all but one of the scrolls to destroy the largest of the boulders, but the remaining rubble was piled so deep that Marcus had to wade through it. Some of the stone went all the way up to his waist, and Marcus ended up drawing Nimbus and using the great blade to push the bulk of the rubble to the side of the halls. He could feel the sharp fragments of sandstone pressing against his body as he walked, but the sturdy leather of his clothes prevented Marcus from suffering any actual injuries.

The hallway became clear after Marcus got past the great mounds of debris. It was another indefinitely long corridor, with nothing but worked stone and blackness inside. "I do hope that your scrolls didn't damage the structure. I'd hate to cause a second cave in with only one scroll to blast my way out."

"The shape of the blast shouldn't have caused undue damage to the walls," said Astari. "I think you'll be all right. Best not to tarry, regardless, seeing that you're deep within the bowels of The Coffin." There was a somewhat rueful tone to Astari's words that left Marcus with a sense of unease. He shook himself. Worrying would only distract him from his real goal.

Marcus continued down the hall, ears on high alert for any noise beyond his own light footfalls. However, his efforts were being subverted by a distant clacking of claws and low mumblings. Marcus caught fragments of words, like "circle," "labyrinthine," and "serpentine." Marcus rolled his eyes again. "If you keep mumbling to yourself while you draw, even an ogre could sneak up on me."

"Oh," said Astari, sheepishly. "Er, uh, sorry about that. If you'd like to know, this passage is sending you upward and back towards the general direction of my prison. All these halls you've traveled through criss-cross in some way. The good news is that you've yet to get out of my range, which means I can help you search for the seal if you find a suitably large source of magic."

"Wait," hissed Marcus. His keen ears were angled forward, quivering at an unknown something that lurked within the shadows beyond his vision. A sound was carried along by a breath of wind. It was indeed a breath of wind: something in this hall was breathing, no, moaning. It was a low, rattling breath, a sound not suited to a living creature. Marcus drew Nimbus, rolling his shoulders and swinging the weapon through the air a few times, a sort of showy display more suited to the theatrics of gladiators than actual warriors. It felt pleasing, though, to feel the weapon back in his hands and to loosen up his fighting muscles.

"What is it, Marcus?" Astari's words were spoken on baited breath.

"I'll let you know when its head is rolling on the floor," said the wolf, not wanting to be interrupted before a fight. Stumbling out from the darkness was a group of zombies, a low moan leaking from their gaping mouths. They carried broken swords, and their armor was tattered with the passing of ages. The sick-sweet scent of rot assaulted Marcus' nose.

The wolf hefted his sword and charged, the great blade held over his head. WIth a glint of steel, Marcus cut the first of the undead cleanly from skull to hip. The wolf let the weight of his swing carry him sideways, and he whipped Nimbus in a large arc, severing the zombies from their legs. With a howling roar, Marcus brought Nimbus over his head and decapitated the maimed corpses. It was over before it could begin. As the desiccated corpses fell to the ground in pieces, Marcus smiled. He didn't even break a sweat. "It's a good to have you back," whispered Marcus, hefting his blade in his hands. A voice rang in the wolf's head.

"That was delightful to witness. Your skill with a blade is frankly prodigious!"

Marcus couldn't help but glow a little at the compliment. "I wouldn't mind running into one of those minotaurs again," smiled Marcus. "I'd like to give that beast a taste of my blade now that I've got my arms back."

"I don't doubt your ability to dispatch great beasts, but it would be wise to avoid excess combat. I'd hate for you to sustain another grievous injury. And keep heading down this hall. I think I'm starting to sense more magic."

"There's only one way to go, anyway," said Marcus, ears still perked for more activity. He noticed that the hallway was made of crafted stone. So he was still in a manufactured part of The Coffin. Again, the hallways were abnormally long, and Marcus had the distinct feeling he was traveling downward.

"There's something up ahead. A rock formation or ... or something," muttered Astari.

"Your uncertainty isn't exactly comforting," said Marcus. He paused, unwilling to move forward while Astari was figuring out the path ahead. "Can you give me some details?"

"I'm working on it," said Astari, absently. "Whatever it is... it's vast! I can't imagine a cave this spacious that wouldn't collapse in on itself. But probing this deep is proving to be more difficult than I expected. I can find you easily enough, but it's like you're lost in a sort of fog... even searching for magic is becoming harder. It's hard to even pinpoint the direction the magic is located."

"A lot of help you turned out to be. Especially after you took the time to invade my head," thought Marcus sourly, not caring if Astari could hear his complaints. "I'll just look the old fashioned way. Just focus on sources of magic. That's the one thing I can't do myself. Are you at least up for that?"

"Indeed I can try."

Marcus began to move forward again, absently hefting and swinging his sword, exercising the limb he'd been unable to use since he entered The Coffin. His muscles still felt a little stiff, despite getting a chance to stretch them during that scuffle with the zombies. Nimbus felt a little heavier too, and Marcus knew that he would be unable to effectively use the sword one handed until he'd gotten used to carrying it again.

As Marcus rounded a corner, Astari's voice flitted through his consciousness. "There's a door up ahead."

"No?! Really," drawled Marcus, staring up at the double door before him. It was massive, easily twice as tall as the wolf, and each side was wider than Marcus' wingspan. There were intricate carvings all over the stone, but the runes were in a language that Marcus didn't recognize. "It's rather massive isn't it? Do you think it's meant to hold something in, or keep something out? "

"What else is a door meant to do?"

"I guess the only way to know is to go through." Marcus mumbled. "Does the door detect as magic?"

"I don't think so... Look at those runes, but don't touch them, I need a better view of them." Marcus obliged. He couldn't make heads nor tails of them. It wasn't like any language he'd seen. It wasn't pictograph based like the Old Script, and if there was a method to how the characters were arranged, he couldn't figure it out. Rickert could've figured it out, he was sure of it.

"Who's Rickert, Marcus?"

The wolf gritted his teeth again. "It's not your business who Rickert is. Make yourself useful for a change." He reached out to touch the door, but halted his hand almost at once. There was an otherworldly glint to the door, and something in the pit of the wolf's stomach told him it wasn't a good omen. All the fur on his fingers was on end... Marcus looked around, all senses on high alert for any other denizens of The Coffin. But this hallway was deserted, and so the wolf sat down, his sword across his lap.

Inhaling through his nose, Marcus prepared himself for what was coming next. He wasn't sure if he was wise for doing this, or if it would even help. He knew what his phantoms were. Yet his mind was drawn into the mirror lake. But then a voice rang through his head. "Marcus? Marcus what are you doing?"

In a flash of red, Marcus bared his teeth like a feral. He didn't care if Astari could help him right now. He refused to accept the help of a being who treated his mind like a tool to be manipulated. "GET OUT!" His mental shout rang like a blast from a horn, and there was a sound of breaking crystal. The icy presence in Marcus' mind withdrew, cowed, and gave the wolf the peace he needed to enter the black lake.

Three figures appeared, sitting cross legged like Marcus. First was the feline, with her elegant bow sitting across her lap. Her face was obscured by a domino mask shaped like the harsh face of an eagle. It complimented her naturally sharp features as she scrutinized the wolf before her. Then the canine, sitting lazily against a wall as he idly played with a knife.. After that was Priscilla, a coy half smile on her youthful face. The mouse girl was oddly luminescent in the half light, compared to the canine and feline, who blended seamlessly into the shadows.

"Found something you can't smash your way though, eh Marcus," said the masked mau, her white teeth glinting through the gloom.

"You're right," said Marcus, ignoring the jibe. "Didn't you used to say we should play to each other's strengths? I need you three right now. Look at those doors and tell me what those runes say."

On cue, the pinscher and the mouse stood and examined the runic markings. Their outlines flickered like candles in the darkness of the Coffin. But it was the cat who spoke first. "I don't know what you're expecting? You're literate enough in the Old Script to know these runes aren't of that language, and you can read the common tongue. What do you think I would know?"

"But are they dangerous?" said Marcus, addressing the cat.

The mau bared her teeth at the wolf. "I can't read those any more than you can"

Priscilla interrupted Marcus' retort. "I don't like these markings guys. I'm not sure what they're for, but I don't like it. Call it a bad feeling, but we should try and dispel them before moving on."

"You're really overthinking this," grumbled the shadowy dog. "These pictographs are decorative. Their glow doesn't resonate with any magical energies. They're simply there to look pretty, to impress anyone trying to pass these doors." The canine crossed his arms and glared at Marcus and Priscilla. "We're wasting time."

Marcus stood, looking between the luminescent mouse and the shadowy canine. Priscilla spoke again. "We shouldn't throw caution to the wind right now. We're stuck in a dungeon with no way out. We can't afford to trigger a trap."

"And we also can't afford to find a new way around, especially when this is the only known way through. And we especially can't afford to tread water on the account of some stupid glowing drawings. And how do you expect me to craft a counterspell when there's no magic here in the first place?" The dog rolled his eyes at the obtuseness of his companions.

Marcus stood and approached his shadows. "I agree with Rickert. We need to move forward." He made to put an hand on the canine's shoulder, a gesture of confidence, but the doberman shrugged it away.

"Of course I'm right," scoffed the canine.

The mau frowned. "Have you thought all this through? Don't let your... your pref-"

"No," interrupted Marcus. "We need to move forward. We have no choice." Slashing his hand through the air, Marcus' phantasms discorporated, and the wolf put a hand on the great door.

Suddenly, there was a sound of shattering glass as Marcus' focus, so enhanced by The Way, was broken by a shout. "MARCUS, DON'T!!" The corridor was suddenly bathed in a white light, and Marcus's senses were assaulted by a high pitched keening so intense the wolf thought his ears were bleeding. Marcus was thrown of his feet instantly, struck with such force that Nimbus was blown from his grip. The wolf skidded bodily across the floor and struck the wall with a crunch.

"Ouch," grunted Marcus, squinting through the cloud of dust that was lingering over the hallway.

Astari's voice returned to Marcus' consciousness, though it sounded as if from far away. "Marcus, what happened? What were you doing? What were you thinking ?!"

Marcus grunted as he stood up. He didn't answer until he'd retrieved Nimbus and checked the blade for injury, though the sword was only dirty. "I thought I'd seen words like this before. I mistakenly thought they were harmless."

"Who were you talking to Marcus? Where were they?!"

"That's... That's not your business, Astari," growled Marcus. He then groaned, clutching his chest. "Gods damn it, this hurts!"

"Did you break your ribs again," asked Astari, voice tinged with concern.

"I don't think it's more than some fractures. Can you do anything about them? It's bloody painful."

"No, I can't. You're too far away, and I don't like healing someone unless I can see them. Doing otherwise could cause complications." Marcus cringed at all the things that could possibly go wrong during magical surgery. Astari was still talking."But don't dodge the question. Who were you talking to? "

"I wasn't talking to anyone," lied Marcus. "I was just trying to recall when I'd seen runes like that before." Astari made a noise of dissent, but he didn't say anything. "Astari, do you think there's any more magic in the door?" The wolf eyed it suspiciously. The great thing was conspicuously unscathed by the explosion.

"I don't think so," muttered Astari. "If you notice the runes, they stopped glowing."

Marcus grunted as he took a few steps. This whole "suffering a grievous injury" thing was getting old. He never used to let himself get smacked around like this. Tentatively, he touched the great door. It gave way. Marcus was surprised by how easy it was to push.

The wolf's jaw dropped. Before him laid a cavern so immense that it made Astari's treasure vault look minute. A humming noise rang throughout the cave, and Marcus noticed the same type of luminescent crystals that were in Astari's treasure room, basking this world in a teal half-light. Even though Marcus's eyes could pierce the deepest darkness, he strained to make out the ceiling above him. Large, oversized stalactites dominated the floor, with winding paths criss crossing between them. Marcus walked slowly forward to examine a stalactite. It had a very wide base, and an odd sort of spiral pattern as the structure got taller and narrower.

As Marcus ran his hand across the stone, he noticed an odd teardrop shape. The wolf warily peered inside. The light from his crystal illuminated an interior. It was surprisingly spacious, and through the gloom, Marcus spied what could only be furniture. It had an alien design, emphasizing teardrop shapes, and was made of hewn stone. And in the corner, there was a stone hearth, grey from the ashes of ages. He was looking in someone's house!

Suddenly, Marcus turned and began to examine other stalactites. They all had the same teardrop windows, the same relics of furniture. Suddenly the winding paths between the cave structures started to look like streets, and the seemingly natural archways between the stone started to look like architecture. The wolf peered into the darkness, in awe of the buildings that seemed to stretch endlessly into the murk, growing gradually more grandiose as the streets stretched deeper into the cave. "It's a city," breathed Marcus. There was a chime in the back of Marcus' head, and the wolf had the strange feeling that Astari was smiling and nodding back in his treasure chamber.

"There's magic in this place," growled Astari, answering the question before it was asked. "It tastes ancient, decayed... like a festering wound. Watch yourself, my good wolf."

"It tastes ancient? How do you taste a spell?"

"With a well practiced tongue and a sense of refinement," chuckled Astari. "Magic has a habit of going bad if left unchecked for too long."

Marcus shrugged. Magic was magic. His chronic incompetence with the field of spellcraft meant all he could really do was try and avoid the stuff. But then again, he couldn't. If the other seals were resonated with magic like their fellows, the best way for Marcus to find him was to dive headfirst into the quagmire. Absently, Marcus twirled his sword in his hands, enjoying the low, satisfying vwoosh it made as the heavy blade sliced the stale cave air.

As Marcus began to follow the winding streets between the stalactite buildings, a thought came to his mind. "How do I find my way here? It's so big. And uniform."

Marcus got the distinct feeling that Astari was nodding his head back in the treasure room. "It is quite roomy in there, isn't it?" Astari was mumbling to himself, with lots of "hrms" and "hums" of concentration. "Hold one of your knives in the palm of your hand." Marcus obliged, enjoying the balanced weight of the silvery blade. The knife seemed to vibrate in his hand, and the edge began to glow a strange greenish color. "Hold your hand flat and say 'borealis," instructed Astari.

Marcus obliged, mumbling the foreign word. In a flash of white and green, the dagger leapt from his hand and spun counterclockwise. After a few frantic seconds, the knife stopped, quivering in the air as it pointed to Marcus's left. "So, that way is north," said Astari as if he was commenting that the sky was blue.

"So I came in on the west side," said Marcus. "Good to know." He pocketed the dagger, still faintly glowing. He kept heading east, curious to see how deep this cave went. It may have been more thorough to skirt the perimeter, but something told him that anything important would be in the middle of the city, not these suburbs on the fringe. His footsteps were conspicuously loud, but he couldn't think of anything he could do to stop the echoing clacks of his boots.

The cave was otherwise silent, which bothered him as well. What was in here? Nothing this big could be empty... "Astari, do you see anything I don't?"

"I see some rather resplendent architecture. The Verlorn building methods are so marvelously organic looking! It's like the cave formed just like what we see now. Could you stop and-"

"Astari," grumbled the wolf through gritted teeth. "I don't care if you think the stonework is pretty. I want to know if you see magic. I can see the damned stones."

Astari huffed, mumbling something that sounded like the word 'plebeian.' Marcus rolled his eyes, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for Astari to tell him something new. "The magic here feels odd to me. Some of it feels like it has faded to almost nothing, but other spots are much more vibrant. That's troubling to me..." He tapered off into further mumblings.

"Troubling? What about this magic is troubling to you?" Marcus glanced around nervously, as if the rock was about to leap to life and attack him. "Don't tell me something is worrying you and then mumble about it."

"Have I ever told you that magic is a lot like cheese," asked Astari, his tone unsettlingly jaunty.

"Cheese?!" exclaimed Marcus, so off-put by the bizarre metaphor that he forgot to keep his voice down. "What in the hells are you talking about it?"

"Well, yes," said Astari smoothly. "Crafting a fine cheese is almost as intricate and delicate a process as crafting a fine spell. It takes decades for a cheese maker to master his craft, just as it takes decades to become a high sorcerer. And, just as with cheese, time does, erh... strange things to magic. Especially when it's left out to stew for a couple millennium."

Marcus' eyes widened under his hood. "And why does such a thought occur to you now, in a cavern steeped in ancient spells?"

"Because said cavern steeped in ancient spells has been steeping. Expect anything and everything to happen down here."

Marcus swung Nimbus in a slow, figure eight pattern, stretching out his arms as he handled the great blade almost idly. "Will you at least give me fair warning when anything and-" The wolf's irritated retort was cut short by a sound over his shoulder. In an instant, Nimbus was in Marcus' hands, the curved tip pointing at what Marcus thought was the source of the sound. His ears twitched as the sound echoed through the lost city again. It was a sort of scrabbling noise, like the falling of pebbles that preceded a rock slide. His lupine eyes pierced the darkness, but Marcus' paranoia simply filled the shadows between the rock spires with visages of creatures unknown.

"I can't see anything," said Astari unhelpfully. "Whatever's coming is either entirely non-magical or has been so warped by the ambient spells here that I can't discern it from your surroundings."

"How helpful," snarled Marcus as he pace a slow, even circle, emerald eyes rending the darkness for a sign of his assailant. "What would I do without you looking over my shoulder?"

"Explode due to an excess build-up of sarcastic vitriol," sniffed Astari. "I'm trying to help you, Marcus."

The wolf's retort was snuffed out by a flurry of rock and chitin. A great insectile thing was on top of Marcus, a tangle of legs and pincers and feelers. In a clatter of steel on stone and a flurry of sparks, Nimbus was knocked from his clutches. Disarmed, Marcus kicked and struggled under a gigantic grey beetle the size of a draft horse, but his blows bounced off the monster's armor. Long, hairy antenna jabbed at Marcus' body, as if it were examining the wolf. A heavy, musky stench washed over Marcus, making every breath a disgusting labor.

"Sto-, stop strug-!" Astari's voice was distant through their connection, his words fuzzy as if they were borne by the buzzing of bees. "Marcus, stop struggling! It's only a tebaya."

"A tebaya?!" Marcus froze beneath the monster. He knew of the tebaya: small burrowing insects. But they were pests that ruined alchemy labs! This creature was far too big to be a tebaya. But at the same time, Marcus couldn't help but notice the double set of pincers, the red eyes that seemed almost luminous in the cave, the feelers almost as long as the creature itself. What was it that Astari had said? Anything and everything?

Laughter, of all things, was echoing through Marcus' head, but Astari's voice was still beset by that strange buzzing. "So I th...k I found what's be... stewing."

"But what does it want?" thought Marcus.

Astari's words were broken, and the snatches Marcus could hear didn't add up to anything intelligible. "It... feeding... the ...our minds..." It was then Marcus noticed the tebaya's pincers were clicking in his ears, disrupting what Astari was saying. The wolf wasn't pleased at how close those massive mandibles were getting to his body. The thing was quite horrific up close: a mass of chitin moist from the damp air and covered with countless bristles. Its eyes were red, and seemed luminous in the dark. Its feelers tickled Marcus, making his fur stand on end as they probed him for... something. But it seemed that the creature had no taste for flesh.

"I'm going to have to talk with you later, Astari," mumbled Marcus. Slowly, the wolf attempted to stand from beneath the great insect. The tebaya seemed unperturbed, simply scuttling a little closer to Marcus so that it could nip at the air around his head. A half-formed idea was forming in Marcus' head. He dug his hand into his jacket for one of Rickert's old knives, balancing the blade across his palm. "Borealis."

The knife revolved in the wolf's hand, and the massive beetle's head snapped down, pincers clicking. Marcus concentrated on keeping his fingers still, conscious of how easily those mandibles could separate hand from arm. The tebaya's jaws nibbled at the floating dagger, which suddenly lost its glowing green aura and fell flatly against Marcus' palm. Marcus repeated the spell, feeding the insect as if it were a restless steed. It made a sort of chirping sound as it ate, tickling Marcus' face with its long, bristly feelers. "That's better," mumbled Marcus, keeping his tone even and soothing. "That's better... you were just on the prowl for scraps weren't you?" The tebaya swatted at Marcus' snout, almost playfully before turning away, scuttling back into the darkness.

Astari's voice returned to Marcus' consciousness, still sounding fuzzy and distant, as if he were speaking across crowded room. "I saw bits of that. You're quite the beastmaster."

"Well, I knew tabayas feed on magic," said Marcus, a little sheepish. "And when it was nibbling around my head it was disrupting our communications. So I just fed it. That's why it was interested in me. I figured it'd move on once it ate all the magic around me."

"I wonder how it navigates this cavern when there's so much ambient magic?" muttered Astari.

"Didn't you say magic has a taste?" shrugged Marcus. "Why don't you go ask it if you're so..." The wolf trailed off, standing upon a precipice of inspiration. He bolted, sprinting the way he thought the tebaya had scurried. It was difficult to track on hard stone, but as Marcus ran, he noticed slight scuffs that could have made by nothing except chitinous claws. Marcus was running so quickly that he only just managed to avoid running flat into a stalagmite.

The wolf weaved between the stone, following the scratches on the floor. His eyes raked the darkness for a sign of the tebaya. Astari's voice was poking at his mind again. "Marcus where are you running? What's going on?"

"We're looking for magic here. Why not follow the magic eating bug?" Marcus sniffed the air for the oppressive stink of the bug. He could just barely detect the dank stench of his quarry through the stale air, and Marcus pursued the tebaya deeper into the forest of stalactites. The amount of ground the bug had covered in such a short time was astounding.

"Damn that thing can scurry," said Astari, keeping pace with Marcus' train of thought.

"You've never had the misfortune to meet giant spiders, then," panted Marcus as he pursued his quarry at full sprint. "I ran into a spider, bigger than you, deep in a northern forest. Its jumps could clear the tops of the trees. Bloody terrifying when a spider the size of a house seems to fall from the damned sky." As if Marcus was expecting a return of said giant spiders, he glanced up at the cavernous ceiling.

The tebaya was above them, its feelers waving at something near the top of the cave. "What's up there?" asked Astari.

Marcus frowned. "Why doesn't the dragon with supernatural sensory powers find out? Or can you just wave your claws and sprout me some wings?"

"No dragon wings for you," scolded Astari. "At least not with only three seals broken. Can you spare an arrow, Marcus?" In reply, Marcus drew an arrow fletched with falcon feathers. "Fire it at the ceiling," instructed Astari. "And use that chain of yours."

In one fluid motion, Marcus attached the fine silver cord to his arrow and pulled back Lilliam. As the arrow whistled through the cave air, Astari whispered a word in Marcus' ear, and the missile glowed yellow. The arrowhead buried itself into the stone as though it struck soft wood, but when Marcus tugged at the cord, the arrow didn't move.

Marcus looked up at the silver chain. He had a long way to climb. His previously wounded arm twinged at the thought of the upcoming exertion. "You said my arm's fixed up, right Astari?"

"You're welcome," snarked Astari. "It looks like that tebaya is after something much more enticing than a self-sticking arrow. Something must be mighty magical up there to hold its attention like that. Good luck."

"If I need luck, I'm doing it wrong," said Marcus as he grabbed the chain. The first few feet came easy, but the tug of gravity became stronger the higher Marcus climbed. After five long minutes, he was barely a third of the way up. He paused, panting, wrapping the silver chain around one of his feet to give him a semblance of a perch. Astari's assurance that his arm was all better seemed a little empty as Marcus felt a burn deep in his limbs.

The Way enticed Marcus. He knew that he could slip into that black lake and leave the pain behind... But the singe marks on Marcus' jacket were pertinent reminders that The Way couldn't solve all his problems. The wolf shook himself. He'd really gotten soft if pain like this was stopping him from getting to the top. "I'm not that old," grumbled Marcus to himself. "And I don't intend to let myself get that way."

Marcus reached his arm above his head and pulled his body up, not in the fugue trance of The Way but instead a furious burst of manic energy. He managed to climb the remainder of the chain in less than two minutes, and was now hanging by a foot as the exertion again caught up to him. The tebaya was still attempting to burrow through the stone. "I think it found something, but if a bug that big can't burrow through the stone, how can I?"

"You do have the last scroll," reminded Astari. "You could just blast your way through."

"But how do you expect me to lay down the rune. It'll probably try and eat it."

Astari spoke his next words very deliberately. "You could give it a swipe or two with Nimbus. Just to scare it away. Massive or no it is just a tebaya."

Marcus shook his head. "The creature hardly did anything to me. I'd find it distasteful to wound or kill something I have no quarrel with, even if it is 'just a tebaya.'" Marcus paused, hanging from the silvery chain while scratching at his chin. "Maybe... maybe it is just a tebaya... Astari, can you cast a spell on me from here?" Not waiting for an answer, Marcus began swinging on the chain, slowly building up momentum as he hung suspended in the air.

"What kind of spell? You've gotten a fair deal away from me, and just maintaining our connection is proving to be strenuous."

Marcus kept tugging at the chain, his swings now covering a wider arc. He was now swinging towards a stalactite, slick with condensation and near enough to touch. Pulling one of his knives from under a sleeve, Marcus drove it into the water-softened stone, giving him the semblance of a handhold. "All I need is a big noise, like a footstep but louder. Can you do that?"

"I think I catch your drift," said Astari. "Stomp your feet for me."

Marcus obliged, kicking the stalactite he was hanging from. Each time his boot impacted the stone, a thunderclap resounded through the great cavern, amplified by a chorus of echoes that seemed to shake the very earth. The tebaya immediately stopped burrowing. Marcus stomped his foot again, and the great insect started to scurry away. The wolf sent one more thundering stomp through the cavern for good measure. "I thought so," mumbled Marcus.

"Thought what?"

"Like you said, it's just a tebaya," smiled Marcus. "It may be huge now, but deep down its instincts are driven as though it were still a tiny little bug. So, if it sounded like something bigger than it was coming its way, it'd try and hide."

Astari's deep chuckles rang through Marcus' head. "Very good! I never would have thought of a scheme like that! Now how about we see what that tebaya was digging for. "

Marcus looped the chain around his wrist and cast off from his perch. As he swung across the cavern ceiling, he procured the last of Astari's explosive scrolls from his coat. It was a tricky operation to affix the scroll to the roof of the cave, but Marcus managed. He slid down the chain to put some distance between him and the explosive before he recited the trigger words.

The concussive force of the rune blasted the ceiling apart, unleashing a blast of force that shook Marcus as he hung onto the chain. As the dust cleared, Marcus saw a hole in the stone just large enough for him to get through. The wolf clambered to the top, grateful that he no longer needed to battle gravity. He panted, catching his breath. "Do you see any magic, Astari?"

"Indeed I do," said Astari. "It's quite cluttered up here. I'm getting a lot of interference. But the ambient spells here are a lot less stagnated than the cavern below us. Give me a chance to sift through it all."

Marcus' eyes flicked around the room as he waited. It was square shaped, save for the fresh hole he'd just blasted into one of the walls. There was an iron portcullis on the opposite side of the room, with a long, narrow corridor stretching beyond. Four large columns rose out of the floor, roughly halfway between the wall and the center of the room. The stone in the chamber was different than the wet sandstone outside; a black marble with a polished sheen almost like a mirror. The wolf shuddered. Such design aesthetic was almost exclusively the domain of megalomaniacal wizards, and he'd seen more than enough of them for one lifetime. He clutched Priscilla's handle and closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

"There's a lot of invocation magic down the hallway," said Astari. "Be careful."

"I assume you mean be more careful than one would normally be in a place like The Coffin?" asked Marcus wryly.

"Indeed. The presence of invocation tends to be indicative of things that go 'boom.'"

Marcus nodded, keeping his eyes peeled for anything like the runes he'd encountered on the entrance to the lost city. "On the topic of things that go boom, why didn't you detect invocations on those runes on the door earlier?"

"That is a good question," mused the dragon. "You are actually a lot closer to me now than when you were at the door, so my ability to probe may have been diminished. Or it could be that whoever laid down those traps also used a separate spell that hides the presence of magic. You could use many words to describe me, but omniscient is not one of them."

The wolf couldn't help but chuckle at Astari's remark. He tentatively reached out to touch the iron portcullis. It was narrow, barely wide enough for Marcus to pass through, but the bars were thick, at least three inches. It was sturdily built and distinctly free of rust or other signs of aging. "Someone is visiting this place," mumbled Marcus. The floors alone were evidence enough: there was no way they could keep their mirror sheen if no one came to wipe away the dust of ages.

Marcus pressed his face against the bars of the portcullis, trying to peer through the gate to see what lay beyond it. The corridor was made of the same black stone as the room Marcus was in, but it seemed to stretch for ages. At the very end, Marcus thought he saw an unlit sconce for holding torches, but the light was too shadowy for him to tell.

"Can I get you some more light?" chimed in Astari.

Marcus grumbled his assent. As much as he needed the help, he didn't appreciate Astari skimming off the top of his thoughts unannounced again. It was simply too much of an encroachment for any spellcaster to be able to see into his head like that, and shutting him out with The Way was proving to be hazardous. He'd need to have a talk with Astari after all of this. It was then that Marcus noticed his quiver had begun to glow.

Astari was talking again, and Marcus shook himself, focusing in on the dragon's words again."... and try shooting an arrow through the bars," instructed Astari. "You'll be able to see the far end of the corridor."

"Have you found more magic in the meantime?" asked Marcus as he drew one of the glowing arrows and nocked it in Lilliam's string. He placed the bow against the iron gate and got into a low firing stance, the bow parallel to the ground. The wolf's chest ached, reminding him of the damage he'd sustained earlier, but Marcus bit his lip and pulled the bow tighter despite the pain. It was going to be a long shot.

As the arrow flew down the tight hallway, Marcus noticed several small red beads materialize along the walls, along with a foul, sulfurous scent. In a split second decision, the wolf dived behind one of the pillars just in time. Several loud explosions rocked the chamber, and several gouts of red fire erupted in the hallway. Some of the flames expanded into the room, singeing the mirror-like floors, but Marcus found himself just out of harm's way, save for a bit of singed fur. Marcus remained crouched behind the column until the ringing left his ears.

Peering around the corner, Marcus saw his arrow had made it past the explosions, illuminating the end of the passage. What he thought was a torch sconce at the end of the corridor was some sort of panel. "It looks like a pressure plate," said Marcus. "I'm going to try another arrow. "

"I'd stand further back if I were you. We don't know if those traps trigger more than once."

Marcus nodded, pressing his foot against the back wall as he prepared to take the next shot. The wolf nocked another arrow, pulled back, and released. The arrow whistled through the air, but it instead struck the iron gate, shattering. A second and third arrow met similar ends. Marcus growled in frustration. It was a difficult shot. The corridor was long, and Marcus was trying to hit a small target through a small gap in the portcullis.

The wolf sighed. He didn't want to press his luck a second time and risk getting caught in the fire, but he'd run out of arrows before he'd make the next shot. Reluctantly, Marcus closed his eyes. When he opened them, he stood back upon the black lake as a harp toned in the background. "Help me, Lily."

The three phantoms materialized, sitting on the black stone. Priscilla sat cross legged, again basking in that resplendent glow while the feline and canine remained in shadow. The cat stood up, stringing a black bow and grabbing an arrow fletched with red hawk feathers. "How do you get by when you're such a poor shot?" scoffed the mau as she crouched next to Marcus, mimicking his shooting stance. "You've been leaving the 'arc' out of archery again. You're aiming much too low."

The canine scoffed at this remark. Marcus frowned, his pride a little injured. "Then why don't you show me how, Hawkeye Lilliam," retorted Marcus, intentionally addressing her with the title she so disliked. The mau frowned as Marcus focused on lining up the next shot. A slender hand with abnormally long fingers touched Marcus' wrist, guiding it upwards.

"Don't pull back so far," whispered Lilliam. "The passage is long but it's easily within the maximum range of the bow. Now don't waste your arrows. You shouldn't need more than one."

Marcus squinted, focusing on the slat in the portcullis. He let the arrow fly, shrieking past the barrier. It fell to the ground, the illuminated arrowhead casting the stark stone in a pale, pre-dawn light. But just as there was a *plink* of iron on stone, the beads of red light filled the corridor before blanketing it with flame. As the smoke cleared, Marcus saw that the iron gate had risen, providing passage into the hallway. But as Marcus stood and walked towards the previously blocked corridor, the portcullis slammed back into the closed position with a loud bang.

"How devious," mumbled Marcus.

"What's that?" asked Astari, who'd remained silent while Marcus was lining up his shots.

"The panel on the other end," said Marcus, pointing towards where his two arrows were still shining. "This passage was designed for someone who was coming from the other end. They'd press the button on the wall and see that the portcullis only stays open for a short period-"

"And then the fire traps would activate while they were trying to sprint down the corridor!" exclaimed Astari.

"That means that when we blasted our way through, we came in through the back door," said Marcus. "And all these traps mean there is definitely something to hide." Marcus immediately pressed his ear to the back wall, knocking at the walls with the hilt of Priscilla. All the walls felt solid, and Marcus moved on to examine the pillars, searching high and low. At the bottom of one of the columns, Marcus found a small slat.

Deep inside the notch in the wall, Marcus could see the workings of a mechanism, including the fractured shaft of a lever. "I can always make my own handle," thought Marcus as he dug Priscilla into the narrow space. It took him a minute of fiddling before a loud *thunk* echoed underneath the floor.The whole room seemed to shake with a grinding racket, followed by the scrape of stone on stone. The back wall slid downward, followed by several more massive stone blocks until they formed a staircase that gradually became narrower as it stretched into a yawning darkness.

"Well that looks inviting," quipped Astari.

"I'm sure there's something down there," murmured Marcus. He drew one of his shining arrows from his quiver and nocked it. He kept the string half-pulled so as to not agitate his injured ribs. The glowing arrowhead basked the stark walls with a yellowish glow, making the staircase feel almost warm and inviting. Almost. But as Marcus descended the stairs, he found not a single living thing. Instead he entered another square room, this one barely five feet by five feet. Against the wall was an ornate chest.

"It's not very big," said Astari. "That was a lot of traps for such a small box. I'm not detecting any magic either."

"I don't doubt that there are more traps still," said Marcus, scanning the cramped space. It was pretty plain, but something still seemed off to the wolf. There were no slats for arrows or spikes, no glowing runes that may indicate magic. It was just that puny chest sitting atop an ornate, scarlet rug. "Wait... the rug!" exclaimed Marcus. He crept up to the chest and flipped the rug so he could inspect the tile underneath. Sure enough, there was some kind of pressure plate beneath the carpet.

Edging around the pressure plate, Marcus tried to pick up the chest and move it out of the way of the potential trap. But for some reason the chest wouldn't budge, as if it were nailed to the floor. Frowning, Marcus used Priscilla to jimmy the lock, careful not to rest his elbow on the pressure pad. The chest popped open with a satisfying *clack,* and the wolf flipped the lid open to see what was inside.

A foul stink hit Marcus' nose as he examined the chest. The contents of the chest were rather lackluster. A quiver of arrows laid amongst a plethora of tiny bottles, certainly potions of some sort. "I can see what you meant about magic being like cheese," said Marcus, holding one of the vials and shaking the curdled contents.

"Take it anyway, if you please," said Astari. "Even spoiled ingredients may prove useful."

"You'll owe me for this," frowned Marcus. "They smell absolutely rank."

"All things considered, I'll owe you for far bigger things than smelly potions once we're finished with The Coffin." chuckled Astari.

Marcus gathered the vials, slipping them into an inside pocket of his jacket. He then picked up the quiver, which was empty save for three dusty arrows. They were fletched with feathers from some exotic, golden bird, and Marcus noticed faint etchings on the shaft that vaguely looked like thunderbolts. "Curious. Perhaps someone got to this chest before me."

"What do you mean?"

"This is a rather ornate box for such a small cache. Either someone condemned these things as junk or this chest is just another decoy." Marcus ran a finger along the velvet-lined bottom of the box, trying to feel any irregularities. One clawed finger came across a bump, and Marcus immediately ripped open the velvet lining with his dagger. He tore away the soft fabric to reveal another pressure plate, hardly the size of a lone coin. "What do you think," asked Marcus.

"Do I think it's a trap or a key," said Astari. "Well, we already found something in this room that was definitely meant to be a trap. As for the box, there was a quiver of arrows sitting on top of it for who knows how long. The button might actually be broken. I'd say push it."

Marcus took a deep breath. His instincts told him the button was dangerous and he was considering asking Lily or Priscilla for help. But his phantoms had proven to be providing mixed results as of late... This was ridiculous. Why was he even considering trusting his own hallucinations?! Marcus took a deep breath and pressed his palm against the pressure pad. With another grinding of stone on stone, a portion of the wall behind the chest shifted. Marcus caught a glimpse of countless cogs and levers moving the great slab of rock, and the wolf could feel the mechanism churning underneath the chest.

And there it was, sitting on a podium behind the tiny treasure chest: a bronze disk the size of a buckler, emblazoned with assorted runes. "Damn it," cursed Astari. His thoughts were colored red with frustration. "That bastard must have hid the seal behind lead. I knew there was something up ahead I wasn't detecting, but I never thought that a patch of emptiness could hold what we were looking for. Such oversight."

"Do you think it's safe to take?" asked Marcus.

"No, not at all," murmured Astari, regaining his cool demeanor. "Go get that rope and arrows you used to climb up here! I have an idea."

Marcus obliged, carefully avoiding the trapped floor as he returned to the chamber with the blasted out wall. He snatched the arrow and reeled up the fine silver chain. Marcus had an inkling as to what Astari was planning. "I'm to shoot the seal with the sticking arrow, right?"

"It's as if we are one mind," said Astari happily. "Then get to a safe distance and pull it in."

Marcus crouched on the stairs, putting as much distance between him and the seal as possible. Knocking the enchanted arrow, he let it fly. The silver chain followed the arrow, whizzing through the air so fast that the fine silver links stung the skin on Marcus' bow arm. The arrowhead connected with the seal, sticking to it like it stuck to the cave ceiling.

With a mighty tug, Marcus began reeling the chain back to him. As the seal left its spot on the pedestal, Marcus thought he heard a faint whistling noise. Then, without warning the chambers below the stairs were filled with the gusts of icy wind. The cold was so bitter Marcus could feel its bite even at a distance. The confined blizzard didn't stop for nearly a minute, leaving the whole room blanketed in hoarfrost. Icicles were even hanging from the walls and ceiling. However, the bronze seal seemed strangely untouched. It was in fact quite warm.

Marcus smiled, pleased with his accomplishments on his foray into The Coffin. "Six to go," said Marcus. He walked to the edge of the blown out wall and stuck the arrow back into the cave wall. The wolf fed the chain down so that he could make a safe descent. But Marcus barely made it a quarter of the way back down when he felt the chain lurch under his weight. Marcus' eyes widened. Of course, the metal chain was weakened when it was caught in the blizzard! Just as Marcus began to climb down at double time, the silver chain snapped, sending the wolf plummeting to the ground as he tumbled over and over through the air. "My promise!" was the only thing that was running through Marcus' head as the ground rushed up to meet him.

At the last second, Marcus seemed to freeze. His nose hovered less than a foot from the ground. His arms and legs were spread eagled in mid air, and Marcus felt the wind get knocked out of his chest as he came to an abrupt but non-lethal halt. Slowly, Marcus' body righted itself before his feet gently touched the ground.

Astari's voice rang through the wolf's head. "You didn't think I wouldn't catch you if you fell, did you Marcus?" The wolf just smiled as he hefted the seal in one hand and drew Nimbus with the other as he started the long walk back to the treasure room.