"Agreed," Gum said to Lorenor. Respect for the paladin came easily. After all, a shaman's and a paladin's respective roles in their societies were comparable.

"But I am concerned," the shaman conceded to his counterpart. "We have found ourselves here without clear explanation." He rubbed each temple with an index and a middle finger, as though to clear the way for a solution to enter his mind. "I am concerned that our escape might be equally as-"

"Back from that side, both of you," said John, interrupting the shaman.

Obliged by the gravity of Sir Cromwell's indomitable voice, Gum backed away from the consuming stone magic as advised.

Under duress, Gum snapped at the ominous orange light and scowled at it. "You are a spirit," he snarled. "I can feel you in there." Inconsistent with his typically even temper, the barefooted shaman stomped through the mud and towards the sphere containing the light. He spread his palm and pressed it against the orb, creating a hand-shaped shadow across the cavern. "Comply and release us, or I will bring you to Oxxad for judgment and your time haunting the Overworld will be over."

A moment passed.

Nothing.

Do Mugu pulled his hand away.

Then the light began to fade.

"I am sorry," he said somberly to his unlikely comrades. "Its soul is weakening."

Before the dark, the hopelessness, and the stone overwhelmed them, Gum felt something between his toes; something squirmed underfoot. He bent his arthritic knees with a crunch and crouched down. Pinching in the dark, damp substrate with his thumb and forefinger, he was able to pick up the slimy source of the wriggling. Letting it rest in his palm, he showed his finding to his allies. It was a long, skinny earthworm.