“It doesn’t matter how many times you keep saying it Ruby, I didn’t tell you because I knew how you’d react.”

“With the fury of a tempest?” She darted daggers at her husband.

“Yes. What we are trying to accomplish here is more important than our petty squabbles. We can’t do this without Clarissa.”

“I will behave, I promise,” the necromancer smiled.

Duffy walked past the group and approached the Ice Henge, anticipating a long, drawn out distraction from their objectives. His boots ploughed through the thickening drift, kept soft by the radix of power that emanated from Y’edda’s coup de grace. Ten feet away from the nearest henge, a glowing barrier appeared inches from the bard’s face and propelled him backwards fifty feet in a flailing, gasping arc of awkwardness.

“What the hell?” Leopold saw his brother fly past him, shooting in between the arguing trio with speed with a strong odour of lavender and smoke in his wake.

Ruby started to run to him the moment he skidded to a halt, carefully applying weight into her heel to keep her balance. Leopold watched nervously, but when he saw Duffy start to push himself up he approached the Ice Henge to investigate.

“That wasn’t there last time.” Clarissa narrowed her eyes, searching for hint of what had rejected Duffy from entering. “It smells like light magic.”

Leopold nodded.

“It smells like a mystic’s light magic, specifically.” He held out a hand gently, and pressed against the barrier. It crackled with power, but it’s energy was tempered by the merchant’s godhood. Still, he winced, sensing his muscles twitch and his bones creak as they tried to fight off the spell.

Standing side by side, Rook and Raven began to appear different, if you looked at them out the corner of your eye. The heat emanating from the Ice Henge washed over them, and in the distant edges of the wind a melody from their youth began to remind them of something they would rather forget. Home.

“Only one person could have put this here. You wouldn’t have noticed it because it’s specifically designed to keep me out.” Leopold furrowed his brow. He shook the ice forming on his beard and pictured a winged mute aglow with piety and self-righteousness.

“Enlighten me?” Clarissa pulled a vial of blood from her bandoleer and pulled the stopper out. She poured a dram onto her left palm and closed her fist. She felt its effects immediately, and black feathers began to sprout from her back and form a cloak of midnight.

“Sei Orlouge. He and I had a disagreement about destroyed the Ice Henge a long time ago. He’s in bed with Y’edda, so I expect she had something to say about it too.”

“Heroes are so infuriating.” Clarissa held out her bloodied hand and pressed it against the dome, which she now realised was made of glass ensorcelled with the sun’s rage. “Let’s show them being good is terribly boring.” Her eyes sparkled, and when Leopold looked into them he realised what she intended to do.

“Ruby’s right. You are always the death of me.” He stuck out his tongue but summoned the inner Raven into his palm. Together, they forced their powers into a sphere that blistered on the surface of the dome.

The partially visible barrier thickened and clouded, and ripples of energy shot out across the dome. Leopold had never seen a mystic’s light magic on such a grand scale. Sei must have really not wanted his precious Thayne’s relic sundered. It began to fight back, and Clarissa and Leopold both sprouted feathers, taking on a beastly form flickering in the shadows cast by the illuminated dome. Then, with a crack like thunder, the spell broke. Cracks formed across the dome’s surface, breaking it into a million pieces and sucking the air and warmth and love from all around it.

“Shit. I forgot about that part.”

“What part?” Clarissa’s eyes widened with panic.

As Ruby and Duffy made to limp back to their companions, they saw the dome shatter outwards and send Clarissa and Leopold flying. A chime and a tinkle, like diamonds falling in the rain echoed out across the barren heart of Berevar.