Awakening in the pre-dawn light, Emily shivered with the strong sensation that she was being watched. Her eyes fluttered open to the sight of two dark shapes at the foot of her bed.

Instantly awake, Emily shot up to a sitting position, the bed linen falling about her waist. With a whoosh, she ignited a fireball in her right hand, filling the room with light. “Who’s there?”

“It’s just us, Emily,” said Talyndra, the Stoneshell fire flickering in her eyes. Beside her stood Dorian, his features etched with a serious expression.

“Am I late for the ritual?!” Emily gasped, gripping the bedsheets with her unlit hand.

“No, there is still some time before dawn,” said Dorian, making intense eye contact.

“Has there been a change of plan?” Emily asked. “Are we still meeting at the Stone Circle?”

“The plan remains the same,” replied Talyndra. “We came to talk to you about something else. Something important.”

Emily furrowed her brows. “What could be more important than the ritual to break the curse on the statues?”

Talyndra and Dorian exchanged a glance. They seemed to be wordlessly debating which of them should speak first.

“We’ve been talking,” Talyndra said at last. “Dorian and I. Comparing notes. And we’ve both noticed something too big to ignore. Something that could put us all in great danger.”

Dorian nodded, now looking at a point somewhere above Emily’s head. “We’ve done some research too. So we’re sure about it.”

“There hasn’t been much to go on,” Talyndra added. “We weren’t sure we should tell you. Spent all night arguing about it, just about. Abbess Althea said not to worry you with it. But it’s too dangerous.”

Emily frowned. “You guys are talking in circles! Just tell me what it is you have to say!” The fireball in her hand flared with her irritation. She flung it at a wall-mounted torch, illuminating the room.

Dorian drew in a deep breath. “It’s about the Nightmoss, Emily.”

Emily’s pupils shrank to pinpricks. Beneath the covers, she felt a soft tickle against her ankle. Shadows flitted through her mind, and she recalled her escape from the Shimmerwood spirits and the death of Richard.

“We’ve both seen it in action,” said Talyndra. “In Shimmerwood and beneath Tiedavon Abbey. It’s incredibly powerful, and it has a mind of its own.”

A pained expression crossed Dorian’s face. “I should have realized it sooner. When I first met you… the Nightmoss on the cavern wall reacted to your touch. The cave where you confronted Victus was full of the stuff. You almost drowned in it! I should have checked you all over, made sure you were clean.”

Something in Dorian’s words made Emily belatedly realize that her upper body had been exposed since she’d first sat up. Blushing, she pulled the bedsheet over her chest.

“You didn’t know what we know now,” said Talyndra, looking sympathetically at Dorian. “You didn’t know what the Nightmoss was.”

“I should have,” Dorian muttered.

“W-what is it?” Emily asked, a chill running down her spine. The Bronzeband weighed heavily on her ankle.

“A powerful force,” said Talyndra, her voice flat. “Its purpose is to grow and devour. But it can only do that through certain powerful magical artifacts, artifacts that it resonates with.”

Emily used both hands to pull the bedsheets up, exposing her calves. She looked fearfully at the Bronzeband. “Get it off me!” she screamed.

At once, Dorian took the anklet in both hands and pulled. It refused to budge.

“Harder!” Emily shouted.

Dorian grunted with effort, twisting and pulling the anklet, but it remained firmly in place. Talyndra joined in, placing her hands between his and pulling with all her might, but still it refused to move. Even when Emily leaned forward and joined in the effort, the Bronzeband remained in place, as though it were permanently fused to her ankle.

After much futile straining, the three fell back, huffing and puffing. “Well that’s just great,” Emily said. “I’ve never had problems taking stuff off before!”

“I can prepare a spellbreak that might remove it,” said Dorian. “But it will take time.”

Emily frowned. Then she had an idea.

Her ankle lit up with fire, lighting the room and causing Talyndra and Dorian to stumble back, shielding their faces. “Sorry!” Emily said. “I figured this would be quicker.” She reached for her ankle and slipped the Bronzeband off. “Ha!”

Emily inspected the inside of the band, looking for telltale signs of black moss. Finding none, she shrugged and tossed it to Dorian. “I can’t see any moss there, can you?”

Dorian looked at the inside of the band, and Talyndra stood on her tiptoes to join the search. After a good five minutes, both admitted they could see no sign of the Nightmoss.

“Great, we got rid of it!” Emily cried, dropping the sheet in her excitement and then hastily picking it up again. “Nothing a little fire can’t take care of.”

Dorian frowned, placing the Bronzeband back on the bed. “I wouldn’t be so sure it’s gone,” he said. “You’ve been traveling with it for so long, there’s no doubt it’s spread from the Bronzeband by now. And if there’s even the smallest amount on you, well… the ritual will release an immense amount of magical energy. Once the curse on the Stoneshell is lifted, it will return to its full magical potential. And the Nightmoss will be perfectly positioned to harness that.”

“Humans and their artifacts,” Talyndra scoffed. “My grandmother always told me, no good could come of binding magic to dead things, or things that never lived to begin with.”

“I think you can clearly see that I don’t have any more Nightmoss on me,” Emily said flatly. “And no, I’m not dropping this sheet again.” She cast her eyes between Dorian and Talyndra, and then at the window of her chamber, where the first light of dawn was appearing.

The night before, Althea had informed her that a portion of Stoneshell fire would be transported to the Stone Circle in preparation for the ritual. She had also made clear the importance of beginning at dawn. To abandon the course now, after all she had been through to retrieve the ingredients, was unthinkable. There would not be another chance.

“Ignis Draken warned me about the Nightmoss,” Emily said, slipping her foot back into the Bronzeband. “He told me not to give in to my shadow. He made it sound like I had some choice in the matter. And perhaps I do. The Nightmoss has been helpful before.” She felt suddenly calm. Perhaps everything Dorian and Talyndra were saying was true, but hadn’t she just burned all of the Nightmoss off the Bronzeband without a second thought? How much of a threat could it really be?

“Abbess Althea told us something like that as well,” Talyndra said. “She said that you would be able to handle it.”

Dorian shook his head. “I don’t doubt your capability, Emily, but we can’t take risks with such powerful magic. Surely you remember what it did to Richard.”

“I could hardly forget.”

At that moment, a brown-robed monk burst into the room, holding his hand over his eyes. “Miss Emily!” he cried. “The ritual is about to begin! You must hurry to the Stone Circle at once!”

Emily looked from the monk to Dorian and Talyndra’s grave expressions. The first rays of sunlight poured through her window. She made her decision.

“Stone Circle,” Emily said, leaving the monk, Dorian, and Talyndra to put out the fire in her bed.

The Stone Circle lay outside Paja Abbey, on a hilltop, where the air was cold and thin. Emily staggered forward from the Stoneshell fire in the formation’s center.

Between the stone monoliths stood statues of all shapes and sizes, all materials and descriptions. At once, Emily caught Aria’s eye, and the marble woman smiled so wide it seemed as though her face might crack. The other statues let out whoops and cries of joy at the sight of their savior.

The ritual ingredients were arrayed around the circle—the Shard of True Reflection, enlarged to a full-size mirror, was propped up against a stone monolith, and beakers of sparkling Azure Essence adorned a short plinth next to another monolith. But most spectacular of all was the Heartflame, which floated above the tops of the monoliths, aligned with the Stoneshell fire in the formation’s center, lighting and heating the circle like a miniature sun.

“We were starting to worry,” said Abbess Althea, who stood near the edge of the circle, facing away from Emily, towards the rising sun. “Let the ritual begin.”

Emily took a deep breath, in and out, trying to calm her nerves. She wanted to ask Althea about the Nightmoss, to receive some reassurance after Talyndra and Dorian had unsettled her. But Althea was already letting out the deep, melodic hum that she had told Emily would signify the start of the ritual.

“The ritual must begin at sun-up,” she had told Emily. “And once it begins, it cannot be interrupted.”

Four female monks in brown Paja robes appeared from behind the monoliths, one at each cardinal direction. In unison, they bowed to Emily. The one closest to the Shard of True Reflection lifted it, and the monks walked towards her.

Emily’s reflection smiled at her. The girl in the mirror was naked but for a few magical artifacts, as she was. Beyond that, there were several differences. Her body was hairless, and the hair on her head was tied back in a long, neat braid. Most strikingly, her skin was covered with intricate patterns, painted in glowing blue ink.

“The real must match the reflection,” Althea’s voice boomed.

Two of the monks gently took Emily’s arms and led her to a large porcelain basin full of warm, soapy water. A third monk helped her into the basin, and then all three set about washing the ash and other accumulated grime from her body. The fourth monk stood before them, holding the Shard of True Reflection steady.

The sponges the monks used were soft, but vigorously applied. “I can wash myself!” Emily protested, but her cries fell on deaf ears. “Is this really necessary?”

“The ritual has begun!” snapped Althea. “Do not interrupt it!”

Emily gulped, recalling Aria’s story of the failed ritual that brought about her curse. She took a deep breath and tried to stifle the flinches and giggles that arose as the monks continued to lather her body.

“Please hold very still,” said one of the monks, producing a large razor blade.

The other two monks held up Emily’s arms, and Emily’s eyes widened as the blade approached her armpits. The blade looked sharp enough to cut her quite badly if she made any sudden movements.

The monk shaved Emily’s armpits, and then the light hair on her arms, working quickly and methodically. She then moved on to Emily’s legs, giving her a much quicker and smoother shave than she’d ever managed herself. Finally, with a significant look at the Shard of True Reflection and an additional exhortation for Emily to keep still, she removed Emily’s pubic hair, which had grown quite thick during her time in Thessolan. As she worked, one of the other monks braided Emily’s hair.

It took every ounce of Emily’s willpower to keep still and allow the monks to continue. As their hands moved all over her body, and the razor blade removed what faint scraps of modesty had remained to her in Thessolan, she told herself that this would all be worth it, to see Aria’s smiling human face. She looked up at the Heartflame to avoid making eye contact with the monks or the statues, who she could feel watching her intently.

The monks dried Emily with tiny hand towels and then pulled her from the basin. One of their number procured a beaker of Azure Essence and dipped her hand into it. The magical substance sparkled against her skin.

With careful reference to the Shard of True Reflection, the monk began to paint Emily, tracing the patterns over her skin with a soft touch. She traced long lines down the sides of Emily’s hips and painted spirals up her legs and arms. A second monk joined in, dotting Azure Essence across Emily’s stomach and breasts. A third monk drew patterns on her back, and the fourth applied Essence to her face.

When they were done, Emily was indistinguishable from the girl who smiled back at her from the magical reflection. She was naked and shorn, her hair neatly tied back in a braid that reached the crack of her buttocks. Though her skin was covered in glowing blue runes, they did nothing to hide her absolute nudity. The Stoneshell hung from her neck, the Bronzeband encircled her ankle, and her hair tie adorned her wrist.

“Good,” said Althea, still gazing towards the sun, which had by now fully crested the mountains. “Now step into the fire.”

The monks released Emily and stood back, and she stared at the Stoneshell fire in the center of the Stone Circle. She knew that its flames would not hurt her, but while she had stepped out of a fire many times in teleportation, she had never consciously stepped into one before. Slowly, she walked forward. Her newly smooth skin rubbed against itself in a new way, and the air tickled her in new places.

The statues of Castle Elid now formed their own stone circle inside the stone circle. The men, women, gargoyles, satyrs, and fawns, hewn of marble, granite, copper, bronze, and other materials, had all joined hands and now stood as stock still as if they were non-living statues. Emily wondered how different they would look once the ritual was complete.

Abbess Althea still stood at the edge of the stone circle, looking away, but now she was chanting rapidly and moving her hands in intricate patterns. The four female monks who had cleaned and painted Emily now walked in circles around her, chanting below their breath, but it was Abbess Althea’s voice that filled her ears.

As she stepped toward the fire, she spied the faces of Dorian and Talyndra, far outside the circle. They stood with folded arms and pensive expressions. Both knew better than to interrupt an ongoing magic ritual, but Emily knew they disapproved of her decision to go ahead with it. The Bronzeband sat inert against her ankle.

But the Stoneshell was hot against her chest, glowing orange. It seemed to be pulling her toward the fire, growing stronger and more insistent the closer she came. The Azure Essence glowed against her skin, and the markings it made shifted and changed.

Emily stepped into the fire, and the whole world went white. Instantly, all was silent and still.

When the light receded, it revealed a barren, gray field under a sky the color of lead. The earth was cracked and dry, featureless for miles around, but for the occasional cloud of dust whipped up by a weak wind. The place felt burdened by an oppressive silence. There was no sign of the Stone Circle or of any of Emily’s companions. She was alone.

Looking down, she saw that her skin was faintly translucent, though the Azure Essence runes still glowed bright blue. The Stoneshell still glowed orange, warming her chest, but the Bronzeband had blackened completely.

A clinking sound broke the silence, and Emily turned to its source. Standing a dozen yards away was a person in a full set of armor, visor down so that no part of their body was visible. The knight stood with gauntleted hands resting on the pommel of a greatsword planted in the cracked earth.

The knight’s visor fixed on Emily, and they pulled the sword from the ground and began to walk towards her. The knight walked with an odd gait, almost stumbling forward on every step. Emily instinctively stepped back, inadequately shielding her body with one hand and summoning a fireball with the other.

The knight did not react to her threat, but continued walking towards her. Emily crouched low, attempting to dig her heels into the hard, dry earth.

A few feet in front of her, the knight stopped and planted the greatsword in the dirt before bringing a hand up to lift their visor.

Emily gasped, for the knight’s helmet was empty.

The knight, or rather, the suit of armor, now raised a gauntlet and pointed behind her. Emily glanced over her shoulder and saw a skeletal tree, the landscape’s sole feature. She looked back at the armor, which seemed to be leaning on the greatsword for support.

“Do you… want me to follow you?” Emily asked, her voice high and strange in this silent place.

The armor said nothing, but removed its sword from the earth and began to walk in the direction it had pointed. Emily took that for a yes and fell into step behind the strange being.

The armor walked jauntily, at a slow pace, clinking with every step, occasionally planting its sword down in the ground to rest. Emily felt a little sorry for it—this was no murderous knight, but a simple creature in an ill-functioning body. The greatsword, which might have seemed menacing in other hands, was little more than a walking stick.

So focused was Emily on the strange creature’s plight that she did not immediately notice the shifts in the world around her. As they approached the skeletal tree, the earth softened and the air grew warmer. Even the sky seemed to lighten. Almost imperceptibly at first, green shoots began to appear around them, and soon Emily’s nostrils were full of the smell of wildflowers.

The tree itself, which had looked so pathetic and broken when the armor had first pointed it out, had transformed into a living cherry tree in full and magnificent bloom, its petals drifting around them on the gentle breeze.

Beneath the tree, on a simple stone bench, sat a woman. She faced away from them, looking out over an enormous, calm, and deep blue ocean that stretched to the horizon. She had straight dark hair and wore a simple black gown.

The suit of armor suddenly stopped, planting its sword firmly in the verdant grass. Emily got the sense that it would walk no further, and so took the last few steps alone, stopping just behind the woman on the bench, who seemed not to have noticed either of them.

Emily was wondering how she should address the woman when, apropos of nothing, she stood and turned to Emily. Though her hair was pure black, her face was lined with age. Her eyes were hazel, the same shade as Emily’s, and around her neck she wore a silver chain with a gray stone pendant in the shape of a seashell.

“Evangeline,” Emily said.

The woman smiled kindly and nodded. “Emily. We meet at last.” With this, she walked around the bench, arms raised, and wrapped Emily in a warm hug, the fibres of her gown soft against Emily’s skin. Emily let herself fall into the hug.

They separated, and Evangeline looked Emily up and down. “You have come a long way and faced much hardship.”

“Uh, yes,” Emily said lamely, remembering that she was naked and vaguely moving her arms in front of her body.

“Do not be ashamed,” Evangeline said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We cannot control how we appear in this place.”

Emily bit her lip. That was easy for someone in a dress to say. Nevertheless, she steeled herself. There was so much she wanted to ask Evangeline. “W-what is this place?” is the question she started with.

“This is the spirit realm, a place between life and death. We have been summoned here—I from the land of the dead, and you from the world of the living—because of the powerful spell you are performing. A spell that will undo the bonds upon the Stoneshell.” There was a slight note of disapproval in Evangeline’s voice.

“I just want to save the statues,” said Emily.

Evangeline nodded. “It is a noble goal. But the curses placed upon the necklace were needed to contain its chaotic energy, to prevent it from consuming the world as it consumed me.”

Emily’s face paled. “What?!”

A sad smile crossed Evangeline’s face. She glanced down at Emily’s ankle. “I see you have become acquainted with the Nightmoss.”

Emily followed her gaze. When she’d first arrived in the spirit realm, the Bronzeband had been blackened with Nightmoss. It was now entirely obscured, as Emily’s entire calf was coated with the fuzzy, writhing substance. She had not succeeded in destroying it that morning—Dorian and Talyndra had been right.

“It was inevitable that you would,” said Evangeline. “Once, Nightmoss grew only in the Trench of Trule, deep beneath the ocean. A small quantity clung to the stone that my Thurseus extracted to forge the Stoneshell. At those depths, under that immense pressure, the moss is quite harmless. Thurseus’s mistake was imbuing it with magic. And my mistake was exposing it to the air.”

Emily dropped into a crouch and began frantically tearing at the black coating around her calf. When it wouldn’t budge, she summoned flames into her hands and tried to burn it off. The moss turned from black to orange and melted away, revealing a pale calf, the Azure Essence patterns gone.

“Oh, you can burn it off,” Evangeline said. “But no matter how much you destroy, some always remains. It always grows back.”

Looking up at Evangeline, Emily noticed for the first time that her gown was of the same color and consistency as the black moss.

“Yes,” Evangeline said, picking at a sleeve, “this is also Nightmoss. Terribly useful when you’re always burning clothes. The only trouble is that it doesn’t stop spreading. In the world of the living, at least. And the more powerful the Stoneshell is, the faster it spreads.”

Emily felt sick.

“I must apologize, Emily,” Evangeline said. “I tried to eradicate it, I really did. Once I realized what a menace it was, I spent years retracing my steps through all of Thessolan, destroying the Nightmoss that I had so carelessly planted. After that, I spent even more years binding the Stoneshell, channeling wards through it to constrain its power. But I was never very good at that, and they would always wear off. And clearly I left some of the Nightmoss alive.”

“W-what do we do now?” Emily asked.

Evangeline shrugged. “There’s nothing we can do. The spell is in motion and cannot be interrupted. Any moment now, it will be complete. You will return to the world of the living, and I to the land of the dead. The Nightmoss will be unleashed, and all of Thessolan will be consumed.”

Emily stared at her in disbelief. “Why didn’t Abbess Althea warn me?”

“Much has been lost in the centuries since I died,” Evangeline said. “Your abbeys pride themselves on their traditions and their libraries, but I have forgotten more magic than they ever knew.”

“They’re not my abbeys! I’m not even from here!” Emily screamed, surprising even herself with her sudden outburst. The emotionless, almost flippant tone that Evangeline had used to turn everything she thought she’d known about Thessolan upside-down was too much to bear. “I didn’t ask for any of this! I just wanted to help! I just wanted… to go home…”

Emily fell to her knees, her body racked with sobs. Tears blurred her vision. How could all of her sacrifices, her selfless intentions, have led to such a horrific outcome?

A gentle hand touched her back, and Emily looked up at Evangeline through puffy eyes. “I had forgotten that you were from… somewhere else,” she said. “That changes things. The world you come from is radically different from Thessolan—magic does not exist there. If you can return to that world, taking the Stoneshell with you, that may be enough to sever the link and render the Nightmoss inert.”

Go home? The thought was at once painful and comforting. That had been her mission since she stepped out of the bathtub in Castle Elid, the very reason she’d braved the Labyrinthine Pool and then embarked on her journey with Aria. But Thessolan had changed her. She had tasted power and a destiny far greater than anything awaiting her in Greenville. To abandon all that…

“I don’t know how,” said Emily.

Evangeline smiled. “That you came to Thessolan at all shows that there exists a bridge between worlds. This place where we now stand bridges the far greater gap between the living and the dead. To find a bridge between the living and the living… I am certain you will succeed.”

A loud metallic clatter sounded behind them. Emily turned to see the suit of armor lying in a jumbled heap, the greatsword fallen on top of it.

“The spell is near completion,” said Evangeline, kneeling to grasp Emily’s hands. “Soon, the Stoneshell will be unbound. Goodbye, Emily Stoneshell Bearer.”

The world around them flicked violently between verdant green and barren gray. The ocean disappeared, and the cherry tree returned to a skeletal outline. Evangline herself began to fade. She squeezed Emily’s hands and then was gone.

Emily opened her eyes to the Stone Circle. The Stoneshell fire had gone out, and she stood on a pile of ashes. But this Emily barely noticed, for all around her the statues of Castle Elid were glowing. The air was filled with loud snapping sounds as cracks spiderwebbed across the forms of the statues. Directly ahead of her, Emily saw Aria’s beaming face, just as it broke in half.

The marble fell away from her, leaving a tall, elegant young woman with blue eyes and golden hair, draped in a flowing white gown. She touched her face with shaking hands, and tears began to stream from her eyes. “I can feel!” she whispered, her voice hoarse and throaty.

All around her, the other statues were shaking themselves off, staring at their skin and clothes, and beaming with immense joy. Brom let out a hearty laugh, the sunlight glinting off his red beard. Jivaro jumped in the air and danced a little jig—he had grown a foot taller and was almost handsome.

The monks cheered, and even Talyndra and Dorian joined in with whoops of joy. Althea turned to face the Stone Circle, smiling serenely. “The ritual is completed. The prophecy is fulfilled.”

“You did it, Emily!” said Aria, hurrying towards her. “When I saw you break down and cry, I was afraid… and that black stuff, crawling up your leg… but you fought! You completed the ritual! I… I can’t tell you what it means to me…”

Emily received Aria’s hug gratefully, burying her face in the soft fabric of her gown and feeling for the first time the warmth of her body and the beat of her heart.

Aria separated from Emily, looking her up and down. “The ritual’s magic seems to have… used up all the Azure Essence.”

Emily glanced at her skin, which was indeed free of Azure Essence. And any other kind of covering. The Nightmoss was nowhere to be seen or felt. Did that mean… could that mean that Evangeline had been wrong?

“Don’t worry, I remember my promise,” said Aria, winking.

Taking the folds of her gown in her hands, Aria pulled it up and over her head in a single flourish and presented it to Emily. She was not wearing anything underneath it.

“Aria, I couldn’t.”

“A promise is a promise,” Aria insisted, even as her cheeks reddened. “Let me… enjoy the air on my skin. It’s been a few hundred years.”

Somewhat reluctantly, Emily took the gown and pulled it over her own head. It was too long for her, but it felt good to wear something, although she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Aria was putting a brave face on it, but she couldn’t have been comfortable with so many people looking at them. Emily, of all people, knew that.

“At last, fair Aria sheds her stone!” sang Jivaro. “All Thessolan has waited centuries to admire her skin, alabaster no longer!”

“Thank you, Aria,” Emily said. She thought back to her arrival in Thessolan, standing naked and dripping in the hall of living statues. Aria had promised to give Emily her gown then, in return for retrieving the Stoneshell from the Labyrinthine Pool, and, implicitly, for breaking the statue curse. It hadn’t been quite as simple as that, of course, but now her quest was complete, and she had her reward.

“Let’s get you both inside,” said Dorian, attempting to shield Aria with his body as he maintained eye contact with Emily. He smiled. “It seems that the worst has not come to pass.”

At that moment, Emily burst into flame.

“Ah!” Aria screamed, jumping back as she felt the long-forgotten heat of the fire against her skin.

The fire consumed the gown, leaving Emily naked. Her eyes were wide with fright. “I didn’t do that!” she cried.

Emily was engulfed once more. But instead of fire, this time it was a black substance, starting from her ankle. Dark fibres, growing from beneath the Bronzeband, climbed up her leg, her torso, her arms, her neck. The Nightmoss embraced her, soft and luxurious, molding to her form, covering her skin. It then spread outward, forming a dress. It promised Emily that she would never again be exposed against her will.

The dress was severe and elegant, with a high collar and long sleeves ending in gloves. At her waist, it billowed out into a dome shape and reached all the way to the ground, where its hem seemed to writhe with the energy of something living.

Emily closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were pools of pure black.

“Emily?” Aria whispered, hugging herself against the sudden chill in the air.

“The prophecy is fulfilled,” Althea said darkly, beckoning the other monks to her side.

With a loud crack, the Bronzeband exploded off her ankle, pieces of metal flying in every direction. One caught Aria in the stomach, winding her and causing her to stagger backward. A root caught her heel, and she fell to the ground, staring up in horror.

Emily looked down at her, black eyes unseeing. She raised a hand, admiring the way the shadowy fabric swirled around her wrist. She pointed a finger at Aria, and a stream of black moss exploded from her fingertip.

Eyes widening, Aria rolled out of the way, the black moss hitting the grassy ground and immediately starting to spread. Bromberht leaped into action, placing himself between Aria and Emily, a murderous expression on his newly-human face. “What demon is this?!”

“Emily, no!” Talyndra screamed, breaking the horrified silence. Hands glowing with green magic, she thrust them forward, and a pair of thick, thorny vines erupted from the ground, scattering the Nightmoss and encircling the dark figure.

Emily watched the vines dispassionately. As they threatened to tighten around her, she grabbed them in both moss-gloved hands. Black ooze shot up and down the bodies of the vines, and they withered in her grasp, struggling against it and then going limp.

Talyndra stumbled back, crying out as if she’d felt the vines’ deaths. Growling, she unsheathed her twin swords.

“Stop!” yelled Dorian. “Emily’s not in control, but she’s still Emily! We mustn’t hurt her!”

“Do you have a better idea?!” shouted Talyndra, motioning to Aria, who sat in a stunned huddle, clutching a fragment of Bronzeband to her chest, and then to the mass of Nightmoss that Emily had attacked her with, an expanding, bubbling mass that was rapidly killing the grass around it. “You gonna break this spell, huh?”

“I’m trying!” Dorian rummaged frantically through his pockets, pulling out stones and potions and oddly shaped sticks. “Abbess Althea, do you… where did they all go?”

Abbess Althea and the monks had disappeared, as had most of the former statues.

“Talk about ungrateful!” Talyndra roared.

A shadow fell over them, and a piercing cry ripped through the air, momentarily drawing all eyes upward. As they watched, a mighty gryphon descended from the sky, its wings beating powerful gusts of wind across the plateau. It alighted just outside the Stone Circle, giving another mighty cry that sent most of the remaining former statues running.

“I’m a joker, not a fighter!” Jivaro shrieked.

Only Bromberht remained, standing like a human shield between Emily and Aria, unarmed but defiant.

A tall woman in armor of silver and gold slid from the gryphon’s back. Her dark hair was streaked with gray, and she wore a cruel smile beneath striking golden eyes.

“Elara…” Aria said.

Elara’s eyes flashed, and she looked around the scene with disdain. “It took you long enough to finish your silly ritual—poor Grifford was getting very tired, circling around! But of course a true mage knows better than to interrupt a spell, and so we waited very patiently. But now our patience is at an end.” Surveying the few remaining figures on the hilltop, her eyes locked on Aria. “Is that… it must be. Lady Aria, restored to flesh, just as she was in the time of my ancestor. What a sight! And just like your dear friend Emily, you can’t resist showing us all of it!”

Aria avoided her gaze, clutching the fragment of Bronzeband ever more tightly to her chest. In front of her, Brom extended his arms and puffed out his chest, as if trying to better hide her from scrutiny.

“Don’t worry, I have a maid’s outfit that will fit you perfectly,” Elara said, before turning her gaze to Emily, who regarded her without emotion or apparent recognition, saying nothing.

“You’re looking a little different today, girl. I almost didn’t recognize you with clothes on. I know you don’t appreciate my fashion advice, but the black is a little severe.”

Emily turned to face Elara, raising her gloved hands.

“She’s possessed by Nightmoss!” Dorian shouted. “Get away, you idiot!”

Elara rolled her eyes. “Nightmoss. Of course. Yet more proof that a silly girl like her never should have been allowed to keep the Stoneshell. It’s all too much for her. Getting possessed, really now!”

A mass of Nightmoss shot past Elara’s head, barely missing her ear.

Elara scowled, raising a staff at her side. “That was uncalled for.” She pointed the jeweled end of the staff at Emily, and a bolt of white magic shot out of it.

The bolt struck Emily directly in the center of her chest, and she staggered backward.

“Emily!” shouted Aria, pushing Brom aside and rushing towards her. The fragment of Bronzeband in her hands glowed briefly, and the ground beneath Elara’s feet shifted, almost throwing her off balance.

But Emily quickly recovered from the strike. Glaring hatefully at Elara, she forcefully pushed both hands in front of her, palms facing out. The Nightmoss surged forward all at once, leaving Emily uncovered except for her hands. For a moment, the whites of her eyes were visible and her face contorted with pain.

“Fight it, Emily!” screamed Aria.

Elara shrieked as the mass descended on her, staff flailing as she fought in vain to keep it from engulfing her. There was another flash of white magic, and the Nightmoss separated from Elara and returned to Emily, forming the black dress once more. The darkness over her eyes had deepened, beginning to ooze out like tears. Her expression was entirely blank.

Elara sat in a bruised heap, eyes wide and fearful. Her staff had been snapped in two, and her armor reduced to twisted bits of metal. She was naked, bloodied, and bruised. Even so, she regarded Emily not with fear, but with irritation, and perhaps jealousy. Lust for the power of the Nightmoss was written all over her face, even as Emily slowly walked towards her.

Aria stopped in her tracks, transfixed.

Wincing with pain, Elara scrambled to her feet and clambered back up the back of her gryphon. “I’ll be back, demon!” she shouted, giving the gryphon a swift kick in the side. “Such power cannot be left in your irresponsible hands! It must be mine!”

With a shriek of pain, the gryphon spread its wings and took off, Elara hugging its neck for dear life. Emily stood, silently watching her go.

Aria felt a hand on her upper arm. She turned to see Talyndra, motioning for her to follow. “We should get out of here before she does something worse to us,” Talyndra whispered.

“We can’t abandon Emily!” Aria cried.

“We’re not abandoning her. It’s a tactical retreat. We’ll come back for her, but first we need to figure out how to beat the Nightmoss. Otherwise, we’re all going to end up like Richard Stoneheart.” Talyndra shuddered and gave Aria a forceful yank.

Still unaccustomed to her human body, Aria put up little resistance, despite Talyndra being much shorter than her. She kept her eyes focused on Emily, who still stood motionless, watching the gryphon recede into the distance.

“You’re a lot lighter now!” Talyndra exclaimed.

Talyndra and Aria ran down the hill, following Dorian, with Brom bringing up the rear, zig-zagging through trees and bushes, heading for what safety the abbey walls could provide.

They reached the rear gates just as a pair of panicked monks were drawing them closed. Dorian shouted for them to wait, and the monks left enough of a gap for them to barely squeeze through before slamming and bolting them.

“That won’t keep ‘er out,” said Brom. “The moss’ll make short work of these wee gates.”

“Keep her out?!” shouted Aria. “This is Emily you’re talking about! In case you’ve already forgotten, she’s the only reason you’re human again!” Aria huffed, placing her hands on her hips and looking about as intimidating as was possible for a pale, red-faced naked woman, winded from running.

Brom looked sheepishly at his feet. “Beggin’ your pardon, milady, but you saw what happened up there. You saw ‘er eyes. That’s not Miss Emily anymore.”

“Emily’s still in there somewhere,” Aria said, casting a hopeful glance back up the hill. “She would not be defeated so easily.”

“We broke the statue curse, so we can break whatever this is,” Dorian asserted, pulling his tunic over his head and handing it to Aria. “Talyndra and I have been researching the Nightmoss.”

“Y-you have?” Aria asked, her hands shaking as she grasped the tunic. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Dorian and Talyndra exchanged glances. “We… tried. This morning, before the ritual, we warned Emily about it. But she was determined to go ahead.”

Aria’s face became almost as pale as it had been when it was made of marble. “I… she… she did this to herself… for me!” Tears welling up in her eyes, she dropped the tunic and turned and ran, burying her face in her hands.

“Aria, wait!” Talyndra shouted.

But Aria kept running, soon disappearing into the abbey gardens.

“She’s a lot more emotional as a human being,” Dorian said, picking his tunic up from where Aria had dropped it.

Talyndra scowled at him. “How would you feel in her position?!”

“Aye, I can feel it myself,” said Brom, wiping a tear from his eye. “Bein’ a statue, it’s like you’re wrapped up in a thick blanket, separate from the world. You can’t feel, or taste, or smell. Or bleed. But now we can. And it’s thanks to Miss Emily, and to Lady Aria, who’s been her guide from the very start.”

Dorian sighed. “I understand. But emotional outbursts aren’t going to help us now. We have to find a way to help Emily.”

“Wha’s ‘appened to ‘mily, then?” The latest speaker spoke with a mouth full of food. It was Sigrid, strolling through the abbey, munching on a chicken drumstick, completely oblivious. Her cheerful demeanour soon turned dour when she took in the expressions on the assembled faces. “Did the ritual fail? Where’s Emily?”

“No, it succeeded,” said Talyndra, pointing towards Brom. “See? He’s not a statue anymore!”

Sigrid nodded to Brom. “Let’s have that arm-wrestling rematch, now that you don’t have an unfair advantage.”

“I’ll beat you even easier!” Brom shouted, flexing his biceps.

“Now’s not the time!” Dorian snapped. “As Talyndra said, the ritual was a success. As you can see, the statues are fully restored. But the release of the curse strengthened another malignant magical force attached to the Stoneshell—something called Nightmoss.”

“Nightmoss,” Sigrid repeated, a faraway look in her eyes. “I heard Emily whispering something like that in her sleep, when we were in the Cinder Wastes.”

“It’s a parasite,” Talyndra said. “It’s been hiding on Emily ever since we landed in those dark tunnels. Biding its time, occasionally manifesting in ways that made it seem helpful, controllable. Dorian and I noticed it, but we didn’t realize its full significance before it was too late.”

“It’s not too late,” Dorian said, casting a hopeful glance beyond the abbey wall. “We can’t talk like that.”

“You’re right,” Talyndra said. “We have to find a way to rescue Emily.”

“Have you tried chopping it?” Sigrid asked. She patted the axe on her back affectionately.

“It’s too amorphous,” Dorian said. “You can’t cut something that moves like water—something that doesn’t have a single body.”

“Welp, I’m out of ideas.”

Talyndra chuckled, despite herself. “We should find Abbess Althea.”

Dorian nodded, and the foursome headed towards the abbey library.

Hours later, on a bench in the middle of the abbey’s garden, Aria looked up from her tear-stained hands to see Talyndra smiling sympathetically. She was holding a newly made leaf dress.

“You must be getting cold,” Talyndra said, gesturing at Aria’s still-naked body.

Aria glanced down. “I have been cold for hundreds of years,” she said flatly. “How do you think Emily feels right now? All because of me.”

“Don’t say that,” Talyndra snapped. Annoyed, she grabbed Aria’s chin and forced eye contact. “Emily wanted to break the curse more than anything. And now we are going to repay her by freeing her from the Nightmoss. Not by moping around and blaming ourselves.”

“But how?”

Talyndra put aside the leaf dress and produced a small circular band made of bronze. Its surface was riven with cracks, and it appeared to have been stuck together by tree gum. “You dropped this earlier,” she said. “The other statues—uh, people who used to be statues—gathered up the other parts, before they fled. We did our best to put it back together.”

“The Bronzeband!” Aria exclaimed, receiving it with shaking hands.

“You taught Emily to use it,” Talyndra said. “I’ve no time for artifacts, and Dorian’s a spellbreaker, not a spellcaster. Sigrid only knows how to use her axe. You have to take it. We can use it to help Emily.”

Without saying a word, Aria solemnly slid the Bronzeband over her right hand and up her arm until it stopped just before her shoulder. Closing her eyes, she took a series of deep breaths, her chest rising and falling. All around her, the earth began to stir.

“Yes!” Talyndra cried, clapping as small rocks levitated all around them.

The rocks wavered, then fell to the ground all at once. Aria opened her eyes. “The damage has reduced its power, made it erratic,” Aria said. “And I am not the wielder that Emily has become. But I believe this will help us. Thank you, Talyndra.”

Aria’s eyes held a new sense of purpose, of determination. “I think I know how to help Emily,” she said.

“Then I’m all ears, because we’ve got nothing,” Talyndra replied.

“During the ritual, I noticed the Nightmoss creep up Emily’s leg, from the Bronzeband. But it only started when the Stoneshell Fire went out. It… seemed to get stuck when it encountered Azure Essence. But as the ritual went on, as the power built, the Azure Essence seemed to… fade. That made the Nightmoss move faster.”

Talyndra nodded vigorously. “Yes, I remember! I was terrified—I tried to get one of the monks to do something, but she told me that they couldn’t stop the ritual.”

“It would have been suicide to stop such powerful magic halfway,” said Aria. “Trust me. But… do you remember when Emily noticed the Nightmoss? Her mouth was moving, as if she were talking to someone, and then she dropped to a crouch and started tearing at her ankle.”

“Then she burned it!”

Aria nodded. “Yes. The Nightmoss was destroyed by Stoneshell Fire, at least partially.”

“It can’t be destroyed any other way that I’ve found,” said Talyndra. “And we’ve spent hours poring over everything we can find about the Nightmoss. If Althea knows anything more, she’s not telling. Keeps muttering about prophecies and sacrifices. The rest of the monks are no use either.”

Aria stood up abruptly. “Nightmoss can be slowed by Azure Essence and destroyed by Stoneshell Fire.” She looked Talyndra in the eye with a newfound intensity. “Fetch as much Azure Essence as you can carry and meet me at the Stone Circle.” She flexed her fingers, and stones rose from the ground and started to swirl around her. “And hurry.”

Then, with a curt nod, Aria set off at a sprint, bare feet hardly touching the ground, her long blonde hair flowing behind her.

“Wait,” Talyndra shouted. “Don’t you want… this dress?”

Aria didn’t hear her.

At the top of the hill, Emily stood and surveyed her work. The gray monoliths of the Stone Circle were now inky black, entirely covered by writhing Nightmoss, which spread out from the bottom of her dress like a gargantuan living carpet. Outside the Stone Circle, the Nightmoss continued to spread over the grass and rocks and bushes, and was starting to move up the trunks of some of the trees.

Emily felt warm, comfortable, and safe. She was all wrapped up in a big blanket, the most comfortable blanket she had ever had. And the blanket was shaped like a dress, which left only her face uncovered. If anyone were to look at Emily now, they would see a lady, powerful and dignified, her outfit pleasingly shaped but entirely concealing. No longer would she be forced to parade around naked for the amusement and titillation of statues and merfolk and spirits and dwarves, of anyone at all. Never again would she let any person or cruel twist of fate rob her of her right to her own image.

And soon the whole world would know this peace, this joy, this comfort. For just as the Nightmoss had given her this gift, so too would it gift the whole world. No one would need to know shame or discomfort, cold or embarrassment. They would all be safe and happy.

Hopefully, they would not try to resist, like that woman did. Emily didn’t like that woman, but the reason why didn’t seem important now, because she had decided she loved everyone. She loved everyone and longed to share the Nightmoss with them.

Suddenly, there was a rustling in the bushes. Instantly, Emily turned her attention to the source of the noise. A tall blonde woman stepped out from behind the bush, totally naked. Emily felt her pain. She had to help her. Nightmoss surged up at once to cover the woman’s shame.

The earth rumbled and jagged rocks shot from the ground, piercing and separating Emily’s Nightmoss. It did not hurt, but it pushed the moss away from the woman, who was holding her hands out in front of herself and seemed to be concentrating intently. Perhaps she was dissociating, willing herself away from this scene. Emily sympathized. But the flying rocks were making it difficult for her to help the woman. Did she know this woman? There was a familiarity to her that Emily couldn’t quite place. Regardless, she had a duty to help her.

Emily tried harder and harder to cover the woman’s poor, exposed body with Nightmoss, but the very earth seemed to thwart her efforts. The ends of her dress were constantly shredded to ribbons by jagged rocks, and suddenly there were vines shooting up from the ground as well, making even more of a mess. If Emily didn’t know better, she would think that this woman was fighting her.

But no! It was the green one, from earlier. Emily spied the small wood elf out of the corner of her eye. She was controlling the vines and must have been responsible for the stone as well. Emily loved her, as she loved all things, but she would have to be dealt with, as a mother disciplines a child.

Mustering all her power, Emily caused the Nightmoss to surge, strangling all the vines at once. The green one let out a pained cry and crumpled to the ground. Emily smiled, turning her attention back to the naked woman. She would help her now, personally.

The Nightmoss swept Emily forward from the Stone Circle, as though she were a boat on a swift tide. Almost at once, she stood nose to nose with the naked blonde woman. There was fear in the woman’s eyes. Smiling sadly, Emily embraced her.

The Nightmoss that formed Emily’s dress squirmed and spread, the moss around her neck separating and curling around the blonde woman. Emily felt the air on the back of her neck, and then on her upper back, as she gave her own dress to the poor naked woman. She would make another one. There was plenty of Nightmoss.

The blonde woman screamed, and there was a loud splash behind Emily. She gasped, feeling like her head and chest had been dunked in freezing water. The whole world seemed to have been tinted… blue.

“Aria?” Emily asked. “Aria! What’s happening to you?!” She had awoken from a strange dream to see her friend’s face covered in writhing black moss.

“Burn it!” Aria screamed. “Use the Stoneshell!”

Emily tore the moss from Aria’s face and lit a fire in her hand, immolating it instantly. She tore more moss from Aria, burning it, until Aria stumbled back and collapsed against a tree, Nightmoss-free.

“It’s everywhere!” Emily cried.

“Burn it all!” shouted Dorian’s voice behind her head. She turned to see him holding an empty, upturned bucket, dripping with glowing Azure Essence. She glanced down to see that the substance now coated her body down to her stomach. Below that, Nightmoss covered her.

With a scream, Emily lit her legs on fire, destroying the moss instantly. Azure Essence continued to drip down her body as she turned her attention to the surrounding area, attacking the moss that hugged the monoliths of the Stone Circle with gusto. Jets of fire exploded across the scene, and the black moss turned orange and disappeared.

When Emily’s rage and fear subsided, the hilltop was denuded of both Nightmoss and foliage, resembling a barren wasteland in the middle of a drought. Seeing no more moss, she dropped to her knees, panting and exhausted.

She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up at Aria’s beaming face. “Once again, you did it, Emily,” Aria said, pulling her up into a hug. She saw Dorian and Talyndra’s smiling, weary faces, and they too joined the hug. Everyone stood, still and silent, for a long time, in the rays of the setting sun.

“What happened?” Emily asked at last, still clinging tightly to Aria. “I feel like I’m missing time. One moment, you gave me your gown, and the next thing I saw was your face covered in Nightmoss. And it’s already evening.”

“You were being controlled by the Nightmoss,” said Aria. “Breaking the curse granted it an opening to enter the Stoneshell.”

Emily glanced down at her necklace, resting against her blue chest. There was a dark black spot at the center of the seashell pendant. “It’s still there!” she screamed.

“Yes,” said Aria sadly, hugging her tighter. “But it’s contained. The Azure Essence will slow its spread.”

“That’s how we rescued you,” said Dorian, his lips tickling Emily’s ear as he spoke. “Poured a whole bucket of the stuff over your head.”

Emily pulled away from the hug and clutched at her pendant. She summoned fire to her palms, blasting the necklace over and over, but the black spot remained. “It’s not going away!”

Aria placed a hand on her shoulder. “Nightmoss is a powerful force, inextricably linked with the Stoneshell. We will need help to destroy it.”

“Do you think Althea can help?”

“I wouldn’t trust her,” Dorian interjected. “She was no use after the ritual.”

Talyndra spat. “The bitch seemed almost happy about it. She told us that you’d sacrificed yourself for the statues, and that was the end of it.” She tapped the hilt of her twin swords. “I almost chopped her head off then and there.”

“We should go to Lirethel,” said Dorian. “My mentor lives there. If he can’t help us fix this, no one will be able to.”

Aria chuckled, glancing sidelong at Emily. “It is as I said to you in Castle Elid. All the greatest magical scholars live in Lirethel.”

Emily thought of Evangeline’s words, of the prospect of returning home. Of the possibility that doing so would be the only way to be rid of the Nightmoss. She shivered in the cold night air. “We… should go to Lirethel,” she said. “But first, Aria and I need some clothes.”

“Err, yes,” Aria said, a shiver running down her body. “It’s been nice to feel the air on my skin again, but now I think I’d like to feel some fabric.”

“Urgh, fabric,” said Talyndra. “Why would you want that when you could wear leaves?” Reaching behind a rock, she produced two simple leaf dresses.

Emily and Aria thanked Talyndra and each took a dress in hand while Dorian gazed respectfully at the sky. Aria slid hers over her head, marvelling at the sensation of the leaves against her skin. “I can see your point, Talyndra.”

But just as Emily pulled hers straight, it was engulfed by flames.

“Emily!” Talyndra snapped. “How many more of my dresses are you going to burn?!”

“It wasn’t me!” Emily cried. “It must be the nightmoss!” She gripped the Stoneshell pendant, pulled it over her head, and threw it on the ground.

Aria gasped, but seemed to relax upon realizing she could still move. The statue curse was truly broken—Aria and the other statues were no longer dependent on Emily wearing the Stoneshell.

Lying in the grass, the Stoneshell pendant sprouted with thick, black moss. The moss spread like water, out from the center of the pendant, digging into the surrounding earth.

Emily screamed and tried to blast it with fire, but nothing came from her hands. The moss continued to spread. Talyndra jumped back as it nipped at her feet. “Put it back on!” she screamed.

Seeing the fear in Talyndra’s eyes, Emily summoned the Stoneshell back to herself, almost without thinking. With a wet pop, it separated from the Nightmoss, soared into the air, and landed around her neck. Then a wave of fire immolated the moss.

The Stoneshell now sat inert, resting against the blue Azure Essence coating Emily’s bare chest, with only a small black spot in the middle to indicate the presence of the Nightmoss.

“You’re going to have to keep it on to stop that stuff from spreading,” Dorian said, handing Emily his tunic. “Maybe it responds like that to leaves. Like how it attacked Talyndra’s vines.”

Talyndra winced at the memory.

“M-maybe,” Emily said, pulling the tunic over her head.

It was instantly incinerated.

“Huh,” Talyndra said.

Emily’s shoulders slumped. “I think I can see where this is going…” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“It seems that the Nightmoss wants to be the only thing covering you,” said Dorian, politely looking at the freshly risen moon. “And you, uh, can’t let that happen, on any account.”

Emily sighed deeply.

“Don’t worry, Emily, we’ll find someone to help us in Lirethel,” Aria said reassuringly.

“How far away is that?”

“Three weeks’ journey by foot,” said Dorian, pointing down the hill.

“Three weeks,” Emily repeated. “Three weeks, and the only thing I can wear is… Azure Essence.” She looked down at her paint-splotched body.

There was a long, awkward silence.

“We’d better get walking then,” said Emily, placing one bare, blue foot in front of the other. In one way or another, she had been preparing for something like this ever since she first arrived in Thessolan.