The Treacherous Expedition  

Amara went to rally the spectral crew. The undead sailors awaited orders, their eerie red-lit gazes were unblinking. At Amara's words, they shuffled to launch the ship's boats and prepare supplies for a shore expedition. Their slack, expressionless faces raised the hairs on the back of her neck. But she hid her unease. There was no room for doubt now.

Once ashore, the glowing skull replica guided them onward. Bane took the lead while Amara followed close behind. The wraith-like crew fanned out securing the perimeter with weapons bristling. Their skeletal structure and tattered uniforms betrayed their explosive demise long ago aboard some ill-fated craft. Amara shuddered at the sight while hurrying to catch up to Bane.

As they hurried ahead, Bane muttered an incantation under his breath and waved a hand toward the rocky shore behind them. Amara glanced back and saw three hulking, reptilian beasts crawl from the surf and onto land with shimmering black scales. She gasped as one of the monsters snatched up a hapless undead sailor in its jagged maw and bit down, black blood spraying.

"What are you doing?" she cried in alarm.

"Discouraging unwelcome guests," Bane replied coldly. He pointed and more creatures slithered up from the sea, this time lumbering toward Rhys's ship. Cruel intelligence was shone in their glowing yellow eyes.

"Monsters!"

"Draw your swords!"

Amara heard distant shouts and clashing steel carrying on the wind as Rhys's crew desperately fought the sea monsters. But the mortal men were no match for the beasts' teeth, claws and lashing tails.

"Rhys may die!" Amara protested, starting back. But Bane grasped her arm, halting her.

"Let the meddler reap what he has sown. More urgent matters await." His iron grip brooked no argument as he pulled her relentlessly onward.

Amara cast one last horrified look over her shoulder at the embattled ship before the rocks cut off her view. Rhys and his men were on their own now...

Together, they hiked up a crumbling path to sheer cliffs that appeared impassable. Amara wanted to turn back, but Bane gestured to a narrow crevice almost invisible against the stony face. Beyond, they found a winding defile that echoed eerily with their steps.

The terrain grew more rugged and maze-like farther in. Loose shale shifted treacherously underfoot. More than once, Amara started to slip before Bane grasped her arm to steady her. They exchanged no words, focused only on keeping their footing. The sloping path twisted deeper into the mountain's stony heart.

Time lost meaning in the gloom beneath the cliffs. But finally, they emerged from the defile onto a plateau overlooking a breathtaking vista. Amara gasped and rushed forward.

Far below stretched a deep valley, its sides stepped with countless terraces and ruins half-buried under lichens and vines. She glimpsed fluted pillars, towering statuary, and fallen basalt slabs decorated with intricate glyphs. Thin waterfalls streamed from clefts high above, breaking into misty veils that refracted faint rainbows. And rising from the valley's distant end towered an imposing stepped pyramid, its sides encrusted in carvings and slowly crumbling. Crimson light seeped from an aperture at its crest, diffusing through the mist.

The true Hallow Skull's ancient resting place! They had found it against all odds. With joy and trepidation warring in her heart, Amara turned to Bane. "What now, my Lord?"

Bane's eyes reflected the eerie glow as he surveyed the vista. "The Skull awaits atop the central ziggurat, no doubt surrounded by guardians and traps." His mouth set grimly. "I will go first to clear a path. Follow only when I give the call."

Before she could object, he turned and descended the terraced slopes with preternatural speed. Amara watched his receding figure anxiously. His behaviour disturbed her, but they were too committed to turn back now. She could only pray the Hallow Skull's unveiling would finally banish the shadows between them.

While awaiting Bane's signal, Amara examined carvings on a nearby basalt wall to distract her thoughts. Eroded images depicted robed figures bearing skulls aloft, locked in combat with snarling beasts and grotesque warriors. A war, or perhaps some ritual trial? What nightmares had this valley seen? She traced the intricate symbols inset around the frieze, struggling to decipher their import.

A distant cry jolted Amara from her studies. That sounded like...Rhys! She spun, peering down into the veil-shrouded valley. Had he somehow followed them even here?

"Die, you bloody bastard!"

Another echoing shout confirmed it, followed by the unmistakable ring of clashing blades. Rhys must have eluded Bane's undead sentries. Now it seemed he recklessly faced the valley's spectral guardians alone. Foolish, brave man!

Amara started down the treacherous terraces without thinking. She lost her footing more than once in her haste, risking twisted ankles and falls. But she drove on heedlessly. However stubborn, Rhys did not deserve to perish alone. And she could not ignore cries of pain that lanced her heart.

She reached a rubble-strewn courtyard screened by hanging vines. Beyond lay a scene of chaos. A dozen emaciated warriors surrounded Rhys where he slumped against a fallen obelisk, clutching his bloody side. His shattered cutlass lay on the mossy tiles. Fresh corpses testified he had not gone down lightly, but these undying fiends would finish him off.

"Ignite!" Ignoring the pain in her ankles, Amara charged the creatures, calling on her remaining magic. Blue fire erupted before the attackers, driving them back with inhuman shrieks. Amara hurled more spells, reducing two to smoking cinders before their ghostly comrades fled for cover.

Gasping, she spun to check on Rhys. He was struggling upright, jaw clenched against evident pain. "Fool woman...I told you...Bane cannot be trusted..." he panted.

Ignoring his protests, Amara drew a shining glyph in the air that settled over his wound like a glove, sealing it in pearly light. Rhys relaxed faintly as her spell soothed and bound the gash. But defiance still burned in his one good eye.

"This is but a small wound. I will see this through." He retrieved his broken sword. "Bane lured us here to die while he seizes the Skull alone. Because of those sea creatures that attacked, I got separated from my crew. Something tells me it was also Bane's fault. That damn sorcerer."

Frustration flared in Amara even as cold doubt trickled down her spine. "You imagine betrayal behind every shadow," she shot back. "Bane swore to protect me, even from his own darkness. I must believe that vow."

But memory of the obsidian skull's necromantic power gave her pause. Its malevolent aura was akin to the legends of the Hallow Skull. Was she naive to trust Bane's ambition was benign?

Rhys sheathed his mended cutlass, wincing only slightly now. "Your faith does you credit. But some stains cannot wash clean." His craggy face softened. "I would not see you come to harm."

Despite herself, Amara felt indignation melt into gratitude at his concern. She gave him a brief hug, careless of grime and gore. "Then we will face the truth together, be it fair or foul."

Rhys cleared his throat gruffly. "Together, then." He avoided her eyes, ears reddening. Their uneasy alliance would be tested soon enough. Amara hoped it would hold long enough to unravel the secrets ahead.