Chapter 5

Waking in the pitch black it took Syreilla a moment to remember where she was. She immediately felt around for the circlet which had fallen off as she slept, pulling it back on with a relieved sigh. The room was still dim and she was still definitely alone despite the hair raising sensation she’d felt of another presence as she woke. 

It was easier to work the locks after having slept, her mind and fingers worked better after the rest. And the locks being upside down was actually helpful, damned elves. It still took more time than she would have liked to get them all open and heaving the steel coffin up was a struggle.  It was built more as if it were intended to hold someone in than to hold someone at rest. She had to beat the bolts holding the mask to the bottom out with a brick to do it at all, the weight of the corpse along with the heavy steel of the coffin bottom, itself, was holding it down.

Kaddal probably would have had more appropriate tools for that. She would have had to disable every trap she’d come across to get him in, and he probably would have gotten killed at the warded corridor. Syr brought her focus back to the job at hand.

The amulet was on a simple leather strap, no clasp, just a knot on the side that she wasn’t going to bother untying. “There we are.” Syreilla cut it off with her slim boot knife and stowed it in her satchel. “Careful not to break you.” Sliding him back into the coffin she closed the lid. Stealing from the dead was one thing, being completely disrespectful about it was another. As she was leaving she noticed something on a pedestal near where she had broken the wall. With a closer look she realized it was a crown. She checked it for traps with a grin. “No treasure my a*s.” 

Lifting it, it was heavy, probably solid gold, and it had five fat gems. In this dimness, it was hard to tell their color but they were definitely dark. “Gorgeous.” She wished she had a shirt or something to wrap it in as she fit it into her satchel. 

Making her way out felt easier and quicker than getting in had. Syreilla felt like she was bursting with energy and excitement. Stepping out of the entrance of the Nameless into the light of the sinking sun, there was no longer anyone lingering. No lich, and no elves. They must have thought she’d died. 

She started to laugh and quickly sobered realizing Kaddal was still sitting and rotting where she’d left him and she didn’t have a horse waiting anymore either. Checking the track and taking a lap around the clearing to be sure, Syr took a moment to curse and throw some rocks into the trees. She walked back to the pieces of Kaddal, dragging a hand through her hair.

Standing over the pieces of what was left Syreilla sighed, “I should have been the first one in, you might not have been the brightest but you didn’t deserve this. I will get you home, and I’ll do it before I hunt that lich down and give him the amulet he wanted so badly.” She just needed a way to gather him up and carry him.

“A cart would be helpful.” 

Syreilla’s head snapped around. In the entrance way stood the corpse she had looted and carefully put back. “It would. So would living long enough to actually keep my promise.” She watched, rooted in place as it moved toward her.

“Why would I kill you? You freed me.” Its voice was dry but it didn’t quite have the hideous sibilance of a lich’s voice. 

“People tend to frown on being robbed. You’ll have to forgive me if that’s what I expected you to focus on.”

The rasping sound it made almost sounded like laughter. “A thief of the house of Olthon Camaenion. How charming.”

“Olthon Camaenion? Sounds like an elf. I’m only half and they don’t associate with the likes of us if they can help it. There were two here when I went in though, looking forward to laughing at my horrible death.”

“Ah.” He looked around the darkening clearing. “They left you?”

“Of course. I think they all thought I was dead.” Syreilla shrugged. 

“What house do you hold to?” It asked curiously. 

She started to grin, “Clan Hammersworn. Batran Hammersworn bought me off of the headsman’s block. I’ve more than paid him back but I’m fond of the man and glad to belong to his clan.”