Ivarr took his time collecting the monster’s life energy. The storm-drake had far more to give than the minor creatures outside, and as he worked, its ash-blue hues dulled into a lifeless gray. The lingering flames on its scales finally died, steam thinning into silence.

  Then the gem embedded in its forehead began to glow. It pulsed, slow at first, then faster, until, with a faint crack, it loosened and dropped onto the stone in front of Ivarr. He waited until he was done drawing the last of the creature’s energy before picking it up.

  He turned and walked back to Catherine afterward, asking that they clasp hands again.

  Red motes drifted from Ivarr’s arm, sinking into Catherine’s as warmth returned to her limbs. Her leg still ached, but the worst of it faded.

  Ivarr finished healing her properly, enough that she could stand without needing to brace herself against the wall. He then turned his staff toward his own bruises, feeding the last of the stolen energy into his muscles and joints. When he finally exhaled, the red glow in his staff dimmed to a quiet ember.

  After finishing healing both himself and Catherine, Ivarr held up the fallen stone. “I think this would be worth something.”

  Catherine eyed the blue gem. “Don’t you want to keep it?”

  Ivarr shrugged, though his gaze lingered a heartbeat too long. “I do… but, you know. Our deal.”

  “He’s right,” Thalia chimed in, voice dry from Catherine’s wrist. “According to my memory, except for the artefact itself, you agreed that any loot from this raid belongs to you.”

  “Well,” Catherine said, shifting her satchel strap higher, “if you two insist.”

  She took the gem and tucked it away. Only then did they look toward the altar. They stood side by side for a moment, listening.

  Much to their relief, there were no signs that another monster would fall from the ceiling.

  Catherine glanced at Ivarr. “Shall we?”

  He nodded. “Let’s go.”

  They approached the altar slowly, eyes still scanning the chamber out of habit, expecting something to lunge from the shadows—anything to punish them for thinking it was over.

  Nothing came.

  The chest sat exactly where it had been, untouched, waiting, and inside it, Elyndra’s shell.

  When they finally reached it, Ivarr spoke in a low voice. “Place your palm on the chest. The one with the bracelet.”

  Catherine hesitated only a fraction, then did as he asked.

  The moment her hand made contact, Elyndra’s stone on her bracelet glowed, and something clicked. The lock released. Slowly, Catherine opened the chest.

  Inside, unmistakably, was the artefact they’d come for, resting in a bed of carved stone, glowing with a bright bluish-green hue. Ivarr stepped closer, almost reverent. Catherine shifted aside to give him room.

  “I… can’t believe it,” he whispered. “An artefact… within my reach…”

  Carefully, as if expecting the shell to vanish the moment he touched it, he slipped both hands into the chest and lifted it out. The glow pulsed faintly in his grip, steady and alive. He cradled it, then turned to show Catherine, still wearing the same disbelieving look.

  Catherine’s arms lifted on instinct. Her hands hovered just above the shell. “May I?”

  Ivarr nodded immediately. The moment her fingertips brushed its surface, the shell flared brighter.

  At the same time, one of the stones on her bracelet glowed brighter—the one marked with Elyndra’s symbol—its light answering the shell like a quiet echo. For a heartbeat, the light between them felt connected, like a thread pulled taut.

  “Elyndra’s shell,” Thalia murmured. The primary stone on Catherine’s wrist flickered purple. “At last.”

  “It’s actually… beautiful,” Catherine said softly.

  “Yeah,” Ivarr breathed, gaze still fixed on it. “It is.”

  Reluctantly, he lowered the shell back into the chest, then lifted the entire thing with a careful grunt and slid it into his backpack.

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  Catherine’s eyes swept the chamber once more, the habit of a survivor refusing to die even after the danger was gone. There might have been valuables left behind. Old offerings, hidden compartments, anything, yet exhaustion weighed heavy in her bones, and she could feel the fight still buzzing through her nerves.

  They decided to leave.

  On their way out, Catherine whistled. Barrel came bounding from the doorway at once, tail wagging hard enough to shake his whole back end, relief written all over him. Catherine knelt despite the ache in her leg and ruffled his ears.

  “Good boy,” she murmured, pressing her forehead briefly against his. “Thanks for staying put.”

  Barrel barked and licked her cheek.

  The three of them started down the corridor together, boots splashing softly in shallow water, the air cooler with each step away from the chamber, until Catherine finally spoke, voice casual, like she hadn’t just almost died.

  “So,” she said, glancing at Ivarr, “what was that spell? I’ve never heard you use that chant during practice.”

  Ivarr’s shoulders rose and fell in a small, uneasy breath.

  “Oh… that.” He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t tell you, but… I do know one spell. The one I used to call the dead.”

  Catherine stopped so abruptly her boot scraped stone.

  “Wait. You’re… a necromancer?” she asked, staring at Ivarr.

  Ivarr hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Actually… all Hraevnars are… supposedly.”

  “I told you,” Ivarr added quickly before Catherine could say anything, almost defensive now. “We have different practices than the Alvarynn. Remember?”

  “I thought those were just… some kind of puppets,” Catherine said, grimacing. “Those were actual… you know… remains?”

  “Yep,” Ivarr said, far too casually. “I take the life energy I’ve gathered and thread it through a dead frame. I’m not bringing anyone back. There’s no soul, no mind, just bones following a command.”

  He swallowed, then added, quieter, “And they use a lot of ether. I can’t produce much, so I try not to use them unless it’s my only option.”

  “I see,” Catherine muttered. “I probably should’ve guessed, with you collecting mana and all.”

  “I thought you might,” he said, like this was a normal conversation people had.

  They walked in silence for a few steps, the drip of water filling the space between them. Then Catherine snapped her fingers.

  “Oh!” she blurted. “That’s why you weren’t creeped out when I mentioned the plague and the dead rising up!”

  Ivarr gave a small shrug. “Kind of. Back home it’s… ordinary. You’ll see a half-rotting man hauling crates. Or sacks. Or dragging another corpse to be used later,” he said without drama, like he was describing livestock.

  Catherine slowed and shot him a sharp look. “You don’t have anything to do with the plague, do you?”

  “No, of course not!” Ivarr said quickly, offended on instinct. “We work with mana. Life energy. Not some… disease that makes people get up on their own.” He shuddered. “That’s just gross.”

  “Okay,” Catherine said, tone flat. “Not that I care.” A beat. Then, with a side-eye: “Just curious.”

  Most of the remaining monsters didn’t bother them on the way out, perhaps afraid of being incinerated or frozen into a statue.

  At last, they reached the exit.

  Late afternoon sunlight spilled over them, warm and blinding after the temple’s stale gloom. Catherine drew in a deep breath, Barrel doing the same beside her, and for the first time in a while she realized how much she’d missed simple air that didn’t taste like stone.

  “Well,” Catherine said, turning to Ivarr, “I guess this is it.” She patted her satchel once. “You got your shell, and I got the drake’s gem, that golden necklace… and the pearl from the first time we came in.”

  Ivarr didn’t answer right away. His gaze drifted somewhere past the trees, like his mind was already walking another road.

  “Ivarr?” Catherine called, snapping him back.

  “Huh? Sorry—what was that?” he asked, blinking.

  “I said the deal’s done,” she repeated. “We can grab something to eat first… and you can stay in town while I figure out how to separate your compass from my bracelet.”

  “Um…” Ivarr stammered, words catching in his throat. “Actually, I was thinking…”

  “Yeah?”

  He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again, still failing to form a sentence. Catherine waited, patient, until Thalia’s voice cut in with all the subtlety of a thrown rock.

  “Ugh. Clearly he’s being too shy to ask you,” she said. “He wants you to hand me to him. And to leave. Now.”

  Catherine looked back at Ivarr, one brow lifting. “Is that true? If you’re in a hurry…”

  Ivarr still couldn’t meet her eyes, but he nodded, cheeks faintly pink.

  “Right,” he mumbled. “Thalia is… right. If you can… hand her to me… now.”

  Catherine didn’t respond immediately. For a heartbeat, she just stood there, thumb brushing the edge of the bracelet. Then she smiled. Small, real, and just a little strained.

  “Of course,” she said, her voice cracking the tiniest bit. “It’s part of the deal, after all. Thalia, don’t be too mean to him.”

  “I make no promises.”

  Catherine slipped Thalia off her wrist and placed the bracelet in Ivarr’s hands. Then, trying to sound lighter than she felt, she added, “Want to hang out a bit before you go?”

  Ivarr glanced at Thalia, then shook his head without looking up. “It’s… okay. I’ll find food in the next town.” He hesitated. “I’ve… troubled you enough… I think.”

  Catherine let out a short laugh, gently tapping his head once again with the shaft of her polearm. “Silly guy. You didn’t trouble me. Well… not that much.”

  Ivarr lifted his hand, gesturing to the ring. “The combat ring… Thalia has one. I can give this back.”

  “It’s fine,” Catherine said. “Keep it. I won’t need it anyway.”

  She stepped in and hugged him. “Good luck on your quest,” she murmured.

  Ivarr hugged her back awkwardly, arms stiff at first, then settling into it, hands shaking just a little.

  When they parted, Catherine gave him one last smile, called Barrel, and turned toward the tree line. Barrel bounded to her side at once, and together they started home.

  Ivarr stayed where he was, watching until Catherine’s silhouette slipped between the trees and vanished.

  “Well?” Thalia said briskly from his hands. “What are you waiting for? Let’s go! A great journey awaits us!”

  Ivarr didn’t answer immediately. His gaze stayed on the empty gap between the trees, as though Catherine might step back out, laughing, scolding him, calling him silly again.

  “…Yeah,” he said at last, tightening his grip around the bracelet. “Let’s go.”