My waking was sudden and harsh.

I felt like I was falling, physically and mentally. The warm and comforting embrace was gone. All that there was was darkness, and the sense that my mind was being pushed through a sieve. That I was losing something vital. I was terrified, and in pain, and I felt like screaming but couldn't.

And then I landed, falling down on my hands and knees on a bed of freezing cold sand. My human hands.

I was breathing hard, trembling at the lingering sensation I had felt going under the water, and in shock at what I was seeing. I got to my feet, feeling my arms, my head, my face. I was all back, back to how I was on the day we had gone into the temple. I was even wearing the same clothes I had back then, which had long been shredded during my first transformation.

I was overcome with a mixture of relief and…grief? Why did I feel grief? I held the sides of my head, wary of any sort of mental manipulation that might be coming from the Fiend or the world that I had entered, but I felt nothing. It was all coming from inside me. I didn't even hear the Fiend at all anymore.

That only made me more confused. I tried to hone in my senses, figure out what was wrong. There must be some kind of manipulation. I would never feel this way otherwise. I felt…like I had robbed the Fiend. Like it had deserved a chance, and I had just snatched it away. It had a right to exist, as much as I did. Just destroying it felt wrong. But why? It was evil, and destructive, and all it ever wanted to do was hurt things that I loved.

Right?

Then I was bowled over by a demon.

One second I was pondering my own thoughts, trying to figure out why I felt so different from how I had before, and the next I was flying through the air, a piercing pain in my ribs so strong that my entire right side went numb. I tumbled to the ground, rolling over in the sand several times before I had the wherewithal to dig my feet in and stop myself. I was dizzy from the rolling, but I still managed to jump up and finally look around at where I was.

It looked like an arena. I was standing at the edge of a circular pit of sand that was slightly depressed into the floor. Around the edge was a low iron fence with spikes jutting from the top, blocking the sand pit from three rows of stone benches that were completely empty. The architecture reminded me of the vision beneath the Mare, where I had seen the tall men perform a ritual, only there were a few slight differences that told me this place wasn't quite that old, like it had been built by the people that came directly after them.

Across the pit from me, though, was myself. Or, a demonic version of my dragon-self. It had orange scales that darkened to brown at its forearms and lower legs. Its tail was broad, with needle-like scales bristling out from between gaps in its hide. Its eyes were full of rage as it stared me down, growling and revealing fangs long enough that they jutted from the sides of its mouth. The finned crests that lined the back of its neck were extended in a show of power, and one of its black horns was slightly bloodied. I looked down at my side to see a small red stain on the side of my shirt. It wasn't growing, though, and I could feel that none of my ribs were actually broken, only bruised.

I knew my own strength. If that thing really was the monster inside me, it was holding back for some reason. That had been more of a shove than an actual charging gore.

Although, when I looked down at my side, I noticed that I had weapons strapped to my belt, a pistol and an axe.

Is that it? I thought. Do I just need to…kill it?

That didn't feel right. It was too obvious, let alone that it was still making some part of me upset and guilty, just at the thought. But it was what this setting implied, and even if it was holding back, it had struck first. I readied my weapons, and the demon's pupils narrowed into focussed slits as it let out an angry growl.

"That's right, come on!" I shouted as adrenaline began coursing through my veins. I pointed my pistol at it and waited for it to make its move.

I didn't have to wait long. Heedless of the firearm, it darted forward, tilting to the side. I recognised that movement from my own time in that body, and knew it was going to try and bash me with its tail. If it stuck me with those spines, I'd die from the poison. So, I jerked my hand to the side, switching my aim from centre mass to its tail, and fired a winging shot before letting the recoil help carry me to the ground.

I felt a sharp pain as I hit the sand, but the bullet did its job, catching the demon's swinging tail with enough force that it stumbled, its strike going wide. As it ran past, I jerked my arm out and slashed at its ankle. It was little more than a nick, but when combined with the bullet breaking its stride, it was enough to knock it to the ground on its side.

I jumped up, wincing at a small prick of pain in my foot, and raised my axe high before bringing it down on the thing's shoulder. I struck once, then twice before its flailing wings smacked me in the forehead and forced me to retreat before it could bring its hind legs around to kick me with its sharp claws.

I reloaded my gun, but at the same time, I noticed that I was hurt. Not just at my forehead where it had just hit me, but also at my lower back, the back of my ankle, and especially my shoulder. I holstered my gun for long enough to reach up and feel my right shoulder. There was blood, oozing out of a long slash mark that was just like the cut I'd dealt to the demon with my axe.

I growled in annoyance. I should have known. Hurting it was hurting me—we were still linked. Just killing it would kill me too. But then why did the Pool take me to an arena? Fighting was what this placed seemed to be designed for.

I put my axe away and backpedalled closer to the wall as the demon got to its feet. I couldn't hurt it anymore, or I'd cripple myself. It seemed to realise the stakes of the situation too, and began circling around rather than charging at me or being overtly aggressive. It still had its teeth bared and its cold eyes locked on me like I was prey, so I couldn't afford to fully divert my attention, but it seemed like the battle was paused. For the time being, at least.

I glanced around me. If we couldn't fight, I had to get out of here and find the others. Surely if I had been sent to a whole other realm then there would be more outside this arena. If I could get back together with Griffin and Arthur, they might have more ideas about how to cut the Fiend away.

The arena didn't have any obvious entrances or exits, it was just a pit, and the fences blocking us from the benches were too tall and too dangerous for me to climb. I wished I still had wings! That would have made escaping a lot simpler. As it was, I needed another way to either break a hole in the fence, or get over it.

I locked eyes with the demon slowly circling towards me. I didn't have the power to do either of those things on my own, but it….

I had a plan, but it was very, very risky. I doubted the demon would be willing to work with me, but hopefully it was smart enough to realise that hurting me too badly would just hurt it too. I pulled out my pistol again and shot towards it, purposefully missing and hitting the sand just by its foot instead.

"I'm not done here until you're dead!" I screamed at it. It was lacking a little in intimidation factor because of how I slurred my words a little after so long of having not spoken human languages aloud, but it was enough to get the thing angry. It roared and charged. I holstered my pistol once again. I'd need both of my hands free for this.

Just like before, it lowered its head, aiming for a shove rather than a pounce or a gore, which was perfect. Right as it drew near, I tensed my legs, and then jumped. My foot hit its neck, and I propelled myself backward, using the thrash of its head for extra momentum. I went up, just barely clearing the fence's spikes. I grabbed the bars, swinging myself over. My leg caught on one of the spikes and tore a long cut across my thigh, but it was shallow; I'd live. I hit the ground in between the benches, out of the arena pit.

I stood and met the demon's gaze again. It looked angry, but it also seemed…almost pleased? I could still feel a hint of its emotions in the back of my head, but it was still immensely confusing. It just wanted to hurt me. But looking into its dead eyes, I could see that they weren't as empty as they seemed. There was something there, something that was cognizant. It hurt to realise. I felt horrible for abandoning it, but I still couldn't work out why. I reminded myself that my identity would be consumed if I didn't get rid of this thing, but that didn't do anything for my mental state. Thinking about benefiting myself didn't lift my spirits at all.

You're also doing it for everyone else, I reminded myself. If you turn into a demon, you'll hurt innocent people.

That made me feel better, but it didn't fully get rid of the pit of guilt I still felt in my heart. So it was…something like selflessness I was feeling. I prodded my mind, trying to figure out what was going on. Why didn't doing something good for me feel good anymore? Why had being separated from the Fiend done that? It wasn't like I was a paragon of selflessness before turning into a dragon—I was a bandit, for the saints' sake! So how did this experience make me feel so…

…awful?

I didn't have much longer to ponder that, though. Despite whatever guilt I felt for it, the demon was still after me. It put its hands on the bars, roaring as it tugged hard until the metal screamed and began to bend. It wasn't even bothering to fly after me. I got to my feet and ran up the stairs to the back of the benches, where the seating was ringed by a low stone wall.

Outside was a foggy scene. The mist was so dense that I could barely see more than ten feet in any direction, but what I could see were several buildings and low walls that looked odd compared to what I was used to in the vale. They were wide, with broad doors and battlements large enough for me. Er—large enough for the dragon version of me.

Everything was made of stone, with grey mountain stone making up most of the structure, just like the arena, and smoother stones that either had natural stripes of white and black or had them painted on making up the details and ringing the flat rooftops. It looked like part of a castle complex, only that it was sized for dragons.

The palace Kyrie mentioned! This must be the place that they said Saint Cèlis went to! Not that it mattered too much. We were still in the realm of spirits, but hopefully if this place had a layout comparable to a real palace complex, it would be a little easier to find the others.

There wasn't any barrier to me vaulting over the wall and dropping down to the ground, landing with a painful roll to avoid breaking anything. Behind me, the screaming of the protesting metal bars stopped, and I suddenly felt a strange vacancy. I backed up from the arena, searching for any sign of the demon following me, but it was gone.

I could tell it wasn't gone gone, but it wasn't anywhere near me. For now. Which gave me time to assess my injuries. Whatever I had done to the demon had transferred to me. Thankfully, I hadn't broken any of its tail bones with my first shot, or I wouldn't be walking right now. As it stood, I had a bad gash in my shoulder, a bleeding puncture on my lower back, and a cut on my thigh. It was painful, but nothing life-threatening.

Without the pressure of being chased, I took the opportunity to walk through the palace more slowly and rest my wounds. I couldn't see far enough to notice a main keep or residential hall, so I just had to pick a direction and start walking. The internal walls of the complex guided the flow of the path like a river, past small chambers and halls that had wide doors hanging ominously open to reveal the pitch black darkness inside. I wondered a few times whether the doorways led to somewhere else where I might find the others, but decided that without that knowledge, I was better off looking around first to make sure they weren't here.

I made the mistake of looking up only once. The whole place was lit with bluish light as though it were just a foggy morning, but I could tell there were images that would make my mind reel dancing past the fog above me. I was glad for it obscuring the strange blue, white, and amber shapes that wriggled and writhed in vague undulating patterns like a nest of snakes. It gave me some of the same feeling as looking into the deep ocean when we had flown over the gulf. I supposed that now I knew why deep water like that made me feel strange feelings.

It was eerily quiet, but every so often there would be a noise that made my hairs stand on end. I would splash through a puddle resting in the slightly muddy, moist ground, and then a second later I would hear another conspicuous splash, but then when I turned, there was no one. I heard what sounded at first like ordinary, sourceless birdsong or crickets chirping, but then the sound would twist, turning into something strange and artificial before suddenly disappearing. I heard the swaying of invisible trees in nonexistent wind, mixed with the sound of quiet whispering that seemed to reach out and touch me on the shoulder when I didn't pay attention to it.

Worst of all, though, was the feeling of being watched. I couldn't ever pinpoint a source, but I had the feeling that there were eyes all around me, observing me. Judging me. I hunched my shoulders and moved faster.

Soon, I came upon a hall that was larger from the others. It was two storeys, with the second smaller than the first to leave a squarish balcony surrounded by crenellations. The stone of this building was a little more ornate, too, with all of it painted white save for the black stripes that went around the roofs. Unlike all the other chambers I'd passed by, though, this one's doors were still attached, and were shut, two slabs of ornately-carved stone flanked by braziers that burned with a bluish flame.

I got closer, cautiously moving to touch the doors. Nothing happened at first, which was good enough for me to back up and examine the carvings on the door more thoroughly. Unfortunately, they were terribly weathered, and covered in moss and lichen that obscured a lot of the details. I could clear away some of the growth, but not enough to get a full picture.

What I could see looked like a simplistic relief of dragons…worshipping…an orb? Dragons and humans together, it seemed. And then a human moved up towards the dais where the orb rested, with the head of a dragon sort of hovering behind him. The next part was indecipherable, but the last scene seemed to depict three dragons with humans riding on their backs, all breathing fire on a…maybe an army?

I wished I had a better head for archaeology or ancient art. I wondered if this relief even meant anything at all. This whole place felt like it was a normal ruin in some ways, but if it was a real structure, how had it ended up in this realm? Was this a memory of a real place, long-forgotten in our realm? Or did none of this mean anything at all, and it was just showing me dragon knights because that's something that I knew about?

It didn't matter. Well, it did, but it wasn't something I had time for yet. I'd have to hold onto these images and think about them once the others were safe. I pushed the door open, expecting to see another void inside.

There was no void. Instead, it was a tall, tall chamber, much larger than what could have possibly been contained within the exterior that I saw. The walls were made of cold stone, and the floor felt frigid to the touch. There were balconies on the upper floors, on which figures perched. They were draconic in silhouette, but there was something off about them. They didn't feel right to look at. Their scales were sallow and grey, sagging from their bodies like they had withered and died but were still walking. Their jaws hung limply open, and their eyes burned with an intense blue light.

All of them were staring at the centre of the room, where a cage just big enough for a human sat on a stone dais. Inside the cage was Arthur, human again just like me, sitting dejectedly against the bars. He looked dead, if not for the slow rise and fall of his chest. Pacing around the cage was his dragon form in its demonic guise, in visible distress as it kept glancing at the cage. It didn't take any hostile actions…yet. But it also hadn't seemed to have noticed me.

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I waved, trying to get Arthur's attention silently. He looked up, but didn't return the gesture. I wished we could communicate silently, but my dragonspeech was gone in this shape. I glanced around for a way to open the cage, but the only way out seemed to be the key hanging from around the demon dragon's neck. I didn't stand a chance of fighting it for its treasure, but maybe I could sneak up to it and then really quickly snatch the key, let Arthur out, and run….

"There's no point," Arthur spoke up. The demon stopped pacing and jerked to attention. "Even if I did get out, I would die. I'd just die. Or hurt people again."

He was looking right at me, and the demon's gaze moved to follow his until it spotted me too. It let out a low growl, but remained where it was on the other side of the cage. I stepped back towards the door in case I needed to flee.

"We won't let that happen," I said. "We're your flight. We can help you."

"No," said Arthur. "You don't understand. You can't understand. I can feel it. I'll die." He waved his hand dismissively. "Just go. Get Griffin and get out of here. Everyone else is safe from me if I stay here."

"Arthur!" I said, barely containing my confusion. Why was he so resistant to this? He had been willing to risk death to get rid of the Fiend just before we went in, but suddenly he had completely given up and resigned himself to an eternity trapped in a cage? "What are you saying? That's not going to happen."

He let out a long sigh. "You're wrong. I know it."

Suddenly, one of the strange undead dragons leaped down from the balcony. It landed on the floor with surprising grace given its state, and began stalking towards me, a gurgling growl escaping from its slack jaw. More jumped after it, all closing in on me like a pack of ravenous wolves.

Arthur gestured to the door again, this time more frantically. "You should go, before you die too."

I backed away. "I'll come back for you! We're not leaving you here!" I shouted.

I stumbled over myself as I tried to get to the door. I practically threw myself to my feet and dashed out. I could hear the clicking of claws on stone coming after me as the dragons broke into a sprint. I could feel their eyes boring into my back. There was something strange about their gaze. It felt like the longer their eyes lingered on me, the weaker and more afraid I felt.

That's when I noticed that Emrys's anti-curse ward was gone. It must have been undone by my separation from the Fiend. So what they were doing could have very well been the curse that killed Valhë and the other pilgrims. I had to break line of sight.

I didn't chance a look back in case meeting their eyes would be even worse, but it sounded like I was losing them. Their state of rot and decay could be slowing them down. I made it to a wall, jumping up to try and vault over it. They were taller than me, but with my experience, I didn't worry about whether I could make it.

But I failed to factor in the curse. I barely pushed myself off the ground, and only made it high enough that I could just reach my hands around to grab the battlements. I struggled to pull myself up. My feet slipped against the stone below. I could hear the dragons gaining on me.

Come on! I shouted at myself. Grace is waiting on you to come back! You can't die here!

With one more heave, I used all of my remaining strength to shove myself up and over onto the wall. I laid on my back panting for only a moment before I got up and jumped over the other side, landing badly on the muddy ground, thankful for how soft it was, before pressing myself up against the wall and listening.

I heard footsteps on the other side. There were a few clicks against the stone above me, but I didn't feel the dragon's gaze on me anymore. I missed my draconic hearing; I would have been able to pinpoint exactly where they all were if I still had those ears.

One of them let out a frightful, blood-curdling screech, and then there was a cavalcade of footsteps and splashes as they seemed to scatter. I'd lost them. Hopefully.

I got to my feet, my knees wobbly with exertion. The fear that gripped my heart was starting to fade, and the weakness was going with it. Slowly, my energy returned, and I was able to stand up straight again.

While the supernatural fear was gone, the fear that came naturally to me was not. I had no idea whether those dragons were spirits, or ghosts, or if they were just some unthinking aspect of this place's defilement, like a curse or sickening miasma, but whatever they were, they were terrible. Maybe them staring at Arthur was the reason he was so set on staying in his cage? No—if those things had been injecting fear into him for the entire time we'd been in this realm, his heart would have given out by now. They must be able to control whether their vision does that.

While I was glad to have lost the undead, I wasn't anywhere closer to finding Griffin. After jumping that wall, I was stuck in an open courtyard, with a single large hall that still looked like a black nothingness inside. The only thing different about this area of the palace complex was that the yard seemed bigger than the others, and there was a path of flattened stones coming from a gate to my left that led forward, around the hall.

It was about as good of a direction as I felt I was going to get. I followed the path. The fog gave way before me as I moved, and soon I could see that these stones led to a small altar that jutted out over a pond. No, it was a lake, one that stretched to the edges of what I could see. The altar was a simple stone table, with a statue of a human man in heavy armour behind it. The statue looked as ancient as the relief on the door, and the armour was of a type that must have only been relevant long, long ago. His hands were held downward, as though offering the small tin goblet that was the sole item on the altar.

I cautiously approached, wary of how open and exposed this place was. Hopefully the undead dragons found the fog as difficult to see through as I did. I knelt down on the platform and touched the water of the lake. It was ice cold, but when I touched it, I felt a comforting feeling wash over me.

On instinct, I drew my hand back sharply at the sensation. I was on edge and didn't appreciate unknown magical effects right then. But the more I looked at the water, the more I noticed how clear and fresh it looked, completely unlike the dilapidated state of the rest of this palace. In fact, it reminded me of the Pool of Saint Cèlis, only much larger.

Is this the way back? I wondered. I glanced up at the goblet on the altar. Kyrie had said that pilgrims came to drink the water from the Pool. If this water was connected, maybe that cup was there for supplicants to use to drink. It felt very conspicuous.

Should I…? I asked myself. This is a spiritual trial, I suppose. I don't much care about Cèlis, but if I can get any kind of assistance from this, I'll take it. Surely it can't hurt.

I took the chalice and hesitated with my hand over the water, remembering the pilgrims who disappeared. Anything here could theoretically be the cause of that. Or, it could be a boon. But I could easily be stuck here, wandering through the fog forever if I just kept going like I was. I needed some kind of aid.

So I chanced it. I dipped the chalice into the lake, taking just a sip's worth of water, and brought it to my lips. The metal cup instantly became just as cold as the water, and my fingers burned from holding it by the time I drank and set the thing back down on the altar.

The chill of the water spread throughout my body. My teeth started to chatter, and I was suddenly shivering so much I couldn't sit up, and laid convulsing on the ground. Panic shot through my mind, but a sensation of comfort suppressed it. The cold faded, and I stopped shivering. As I sat back up and looked around, the fog began to retreat, not dissolving entirely, but it cleared out of the way of my sight lines until it was confined entirely to the sky above and a few inches off the ground.

I could even see the edge of the lake, where the water poured over a small channel and off of a cliff. When I stood and leaned forward, I could see the world down below, the forested hills of Yorvingshire fanning out to the horizon. Directly underneath the channel laid the clearing where the Pool was, with the water from this lake pouring down into it. Everything was shrouded in shadow down there, but I couldn't tell whether that was because it was night time, or if it was just because we were in another realm.

I glanced back down at the lake. So this must be the source of that fountain in the Pool below. It was invisible because the water was coming from another realm, and maybe covered by an illusion, if I took Kyrie's story at face value. I wanted to question how the water then became physical for us to interact with in the real world, but I felt that that was a contradiction not worth pondering right now. Instead, I turned around to see if I could see anything that stood out in the rest of the complex.

The first thing I noticed was a cord. It was bluish in colour, and spectral, like it was made entirely of light. One end connected to my head, it seemed, though it felt weightless when I moved my head around. The other snaked back over the pathway and up the walls, right to the head of the Fiend.

I startled at the sight of it. It stared at me from a distance, slowly and eerily walking towards me while its eyes were locked onto mine. Dread rose in my heart, and I started frantically looking for a way to escape. Then I looked down at the cord, and my hand went to my axe.

If that water is purifying, maybe it's giving me the opportunity to purify myself? I thought. The Fiend panicked when I lifted my axe up, which was enough confirmation for me. This is the thing shackling me to that monster. I can do it. I can finally do it, get rid of the evil voices in my head and be free. Be me. I raised my axe….

…but I just couldn't do it.

My hand shook so badly that I dropped my own weapon. I felt like breaking down crying, but the Fiend was still moving towards me. Seeing me about to sever the cord, it had only accelerated. I scooped up my axe and ran for the wall, hesitating just enough to bait the Fiend into jumping down before I leaped up. I ran as fast as I could down the battlements, frantically looking around for a building where Griffin might be. My heart jumped into my throat when I saw more of those undead dragons walking around, or maybe the same ones from earlier, shambling through the maze of walls and snarling at nothing. I could only hope that they didn't see me up here.

Fortunately, I saw another large hall like the one that Arthur had been in, but it was all the way across the complex. I had a long way to run to get there, and I was already starting to get tired from all this sprinting. Not to mention that the Fiend was significantly faster than me, even on foot. It was already catching up behind me after my attempt at faking it out.

I looked around, trying to find anything that might help me get away, but my pursuer had wings, and all I had were my abilities to run and climb. My eyes landed on one of the buildings with the void inside the broken doorway. Maybe I could hide in there? As long as I didn't get instantly killed going inside, or whatever that darkness implied.

I didn't have many options. I waited until the wall ran right past one of those lower buildings and split to the side, running across the roof and jumping down right at the edge. Hopefully that broke line of sight with the Fiend, and it would think it lost me. I turned around and plunged right into the darkness in the doorway.

I was surrounded by black nothing, but only for a moment. Then the world materialised again in the form of a courtyard that was before me, but not the same yard I had just left. This one was narrower, with more carved art on the walls surrounding it, but more importantly it had an undead dragon looking right at the doorway I had just come out of. Its head snapped up as it noticed me and it hissed, its eyes blazing blue.

I gasped as the curse took hold, and on instinct whipped my axe at the thing's head. It didn't make any attempt to dodge and took the blow as the weapon sank into its forehead. It reared back from the force, staying still for a moment as its eyes dimmed before it suddenly dropped to its feet and scuttled backwards, dissolving into mist as it did. The axe fell to the ground, the head it was lodged in no longer there.

I stood, breathing hard and regaining my energy, before I retrieved the axe and looked around. I was closer to the second hall, but not by that much. At least the Fiend didn't appear through the door behind me. The cord pointed back towards the section of the complex that I had just left.

Unfortunately, if it was still on the walls, it would see me immediately if I tried to run across them. Going through the maze would take too much time and risk more contact with those dead things. I glanced back at the open doorway behind me. If these things were all linked together, then maybe it would be best to chance going through them over and over until I landed somewhere closer to Griffin? It was definitely risky, but the potential benefits were hard to pass up, especially when those benefits included possibly being less likely to get me killed.

As an experiment, I stepped through the door I had just come through, and came out in a completely different section of the palace, facing a huge, complex statue of a three-headed dragon being slain by a normal dragon and a human knight. It was oddly mesmerising to look at, but it held just as little meaning to me as most of the carvings here. Perhaps, in a less desperate time, we could afford to come back and analyse all of this with a real archaeologist, but not now.

At least I had learned that these doors weren't like real doors. Either they spat me out somewhere random, or one door's exit didn't necessarily link back to the entrance. That meant I could just keep walking through the door behind me until I got close. As long as I didn't land somewhere immediately horrible, I could escape by going right back into the void. I kept my eye on the high hall, and went back through.

It only took three times before I landed in a place that complicated matters somewhat. First I came into a narrow alleyway, then what looked like a ruined outdoor dining area, and finally, I miraculously emerged in a wide yard right in front of the hall I was looking for. What was less lucky was that the door was surrounded by a semicircle of dead dragons, all sitting and staring at it. They didn't seem to notice me when I walked out of the building, so I quickly darted around the wall to assess the situation from a less visible vantage point.

The hall was three storeys tall, with balconies jutting out from each storey. Getting in one of the higher doors from outside would have been trivial if only I had any of my old tools with me. It seemed like the form this place put me in only had weapons, though; no rope, no grappling hook, not even my lockpicks, not that they would have helped in this situation. Really the only option I had here was to go through the front, which was right in plain view of all the monsters.

I could just run past them, and hope that the combined power of their stares didn't kill me before I reached the door, and then hope that they couldn't follow me inside. But I was already getting exhausted. Soon I wouldn't have much strength left for them to drain. I didn't have any tools to get past them either, short of hoping they go down easily and just trying to get rid of them with my pistol faster than they can kill me.

The only other way was making them move. But how?

I glanced up at the wall behind me. The inner walls went around this yard in a semi-circle shape, giving about fifty feet of room between them and the front of the hall, and since the battlements seemed to have been designed with dragons in mind, they were significantly larger than me. Maybe it was time for one of the oldest tricks in the book.

Carefully, quietly, I climbed up on top of the building I had come through, and from there onto the wall. I crouched down, making sure I was as hidden as possible behind a crenellation, and took out my pistol. It was a long shot, and my hands were shaky with nerves, but I didn't actually need to make it a killing shot. I just needed it to make a lot of noise.

I pulled the trigger, and immediately ducked down and started running around the wall, towards the far side of the semi-circle. I didn't wait long enough to see if my shot struck home. Even apart from the dead things that could kill me with a stare, I felt the cord twist at the gun's loud report. The Fiend had definitely heard that, and was coming this way. I didn't have long to get Griffin and get out.

Once I reached the end of the wall, I leaned over just enough to make sure the dragons had been as distracted as I had hoped. Sure enough, one of them had vanished, leaving the remaining seven filing up the building and onto the wall where I had taken the shot. Not knowing whether the one I'd presumably hit was just hiding or was gone gone was scary, but I took the risk, and jumped down from the wall, sprinting for the door. I felt eyes boring into my back right when I reached it, but the curse only had a moment to seep into me before I flung the door open, stepped through, and slammed it shut behind me.

I wasn't sure what to expect. So far mine and Arthur's chambers seemed to have been personalised, but I didn't know how this place would shape to Griffin. I definitely didn't expect to walk into what looked like a torture chamber, lit by ominous torches on the walls that made everything inside cast dark and grim shadows. Manacles were chained to the walls, surrounded by horrible implements scattered around them like trash, including nails, thumbscrews, and a handful that I didn't recognise but couldn't even imagine the sorts of procedures they were intended for. In the middle of it all was a simple gallows, with a single noose hanging from the arch. Griffin sat at the edge of a platform, a brown hood hanging loose from their neck and shackles on their wrists and ankles. On the floor in front of them was their draconic form, twisted with demonic transformations just like mine and Arthur's, with its keeled scales lengthened into a carpet of sharp spines that covered its back and its wing blades sharpened into wicked edges.

They looked to be in the middle of a conversation when I shut the door, but panic still told me to draw my pistol once again and point it at the demon. It snarled in response.

"Wait, wait, wait!" called Griffin. Their voice was weak and croaky, like they were sick. "Please don't! They're–they're not aggressive right now, I promise."

I didn't lower my gun, but I didn't pull the trigger yet. "What's going on in here?" I asked. "What do you mean 'they're not aggressive'? It looks like it was about to execute you!"

"They were," said Griffin. "But we talked! We've been talking. I'm trying to get to the bottom of things. Examine stuff. Isn't that what we came here for? To solve our Fiend problem?"

The door behind me shuddered, and I fell back against it, trying to hold it shut with my body. I could tell by the cord that it was my Fiend on the other side. If it wanted to bash the door down, I wouldn't be able to hold it out for long.

"I don't think talking is going to solve anything!" I shouted. "Mine's trying to kill me, and Arthur's has him locked up in a cage! We've got to get out of here so we can save him, and then get off this mountain!"

Griffin blinked. "Mountain…?" They shook their head. "No, never mind. What do we do?"

Now that I was thinking about it, I actually noticed that Griffin and their Fiend had a cord too, a scarlet one that was much more vibrant and tangible-looking than the one between me and mine. They didn't even seem to register it, presumably because they hadn't drunk from the spring like I had. The door shuddered again, and I readied my axe.

"I can do at least one thing right today," I said, and lunged.

A lot happened at once. Only a moment after I stopped blocking the door, it burst open, my Fiend on the other side. Griffin's Fiend snarled at me, but its attention was immediately diverted by the other demon suddenly in the room, and it let out a bone-shaking roar before pouncing at it. Griffin cringed away from my weapon, but I wasn't aiming for them. My blade came down on the cord. I had expected it to either cut through or for there to be no resistance at all if the cord was ephemeral or something and could only be touched or cut by some special item, but instead, it bounced right off. It felt like I was trying to cut through a springy piece of metal. It was far too tough to be threatened by an ordinary hand axe.

"What are you doing!?" Griffin cried.

"Trying to fix you!" I said. "But it didn't work! There's really not any time to explain, let's go before they finish fighting!"

I grabbed Griffin by the wrist and dragged them out into the courtyard.

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