Finally, all of Guelder's team reached the small plateau near the bridge of the Gudrin. This was the safest spot they could choose to have a short rest and dine on rations, before they would continue their way south to the sacrament. Guelder felt she could even do with a long rest, but alas, their time was limited.

  "Thorns and bloody brambles," she groaned, dropping herself down on a nice, smooth rock. It felt just as comfortable as her throne back in Tuskdale. "We are still hours away from the sanctum, already bloodied, with half my valuable spells spent on those morons. I will be more than surprised if tonight's endeavour ends on a satisfying note."

  "Depends on what you call satisfying, Chief," grinned Amiri. "Ripping stupid people's throats sounds satisfying enough to me."

  "I told you it was a fool's errand, Guel. Perhaps you could start listening to me, for a change," remarked Hazel. They settled down on their knees near the baroness, and started to clean the blood and shreds of human tissue off their retrieved arrows.

  "Does... does that mean you want to turn back?" asked Tristian, deploying his best puppy eyes.

  "No, Tristian," said the baroness. "We shall see this through. I intend to give the cultists a chance to sober up and ideally also explain to me like I am five what the hell is going on. Please heal us up before the hydra venom kicks in."

  Tristian nodded and unleashed a healing wave, then another one. As of today, Amiri and Hazel would sport a brand new set of scars each. As to Pangur, Guelder dreaded to think what was hiding under that gorgeous, fluffy coat.

  Of course, heading to a sacrament of the Cleansed, an encounter with a group of believers from said cult had been nothing unexpected. Being immediately attacked, however, had been an entirely different thing. So much about dialogue and peaceful solutions. If Guelder had to expect the same tonight, there was only one reason to continue this expedition: to test the usefulness of moon frenzy in live combat. Loath as she was to experiment on sentient humanoids, let alone her own subjects, a nasty little voice at the back of her brain whispered the cultists had practically consented to their role as lab rats. She could only hope the ones at the sacrament wouldn't be much braver than this group had been, who had dispersed at the first sign of organised resistance—or at the sudden appearance of a hydra who'd smashed to pulp one of their own when no one was looking. The task to dispose of the monster had fallen to Guelder's team, like always, while some of the more foolhardy cultists had exploited the turmoil to harass them, until Hazel had taken them out one by one. Surprisingly, Tristian had proven instrumental in stopping the hydra's regeneration with the fire spells granted to him by the sun goddess, and Guelder had been generous with praises, hoping that positive feedback could wake the warrior buried deep within this wallflower of a cleric.

  Speaking of fire...

  Guelder sprang up from her seat and stepped out to the edge of the plateau to check if her eyes were tricking her. Hazel was quick to follow.

  "Guel, I told you a hundred times not to skyline... What the actual heck?"

  Further to the east, a man was running down the road, howling at the top of his lungs, his clothing aflame. Even his skin was covered in a sheen of blazing substance. As he reached the river, he threw himself into the water with a desperate jump... and remained on the surface, his face under the water, the clothes on his back still burning. He soon stopped thrashing. The body floated down the river, passed under the bridge, and continued its way towards Lake Tuskwater, where it would eventually get stuck in the reeds, to be found by a marshwalker or hungry wildlife.

  "Maybe one of the cultists," said Hazel. "I saw some of them flee in that direction."

  "We had better check out where he came from," suggested Guelder. "If all goes well, Kassil and the reinforcements will be here in an hour or two. It would not do for them to walk into something ugly. Not to mention peaceful travellers using the bridge."

  Amiri stretched her limbs with a yawn.

  "Mighty! I could use some more warm-up before kicking Cleansed butts!"

  "Just make sure not to get as warm as that fellow did," said Hazel, earning a glare from Tristian.

  The team descended from the plateau and hiked upriver until they reached the spot where the man had jumped into the water. It was easy to follow the trail of singed grass backwards, to the mouth of a cave strewn with soot, ashes and charred bones.

  "This can be anything," said Hazel softly, "from a pack of worgs to hellhounds to a dragon."

  "Pangur can detect no canine presence," said Guelder. "And what about that fiery coating on the man's skin? It cooled down in the water into something light that kept him afloat. What could that be?"

  She startled as she felt something tug at her elbow. It was Linzi, scared enough to keep her mouth shut (which was remarkable in and of itself), and showing up a couple of tiny scales on the palm of her hand. She pointed towards the entrance of the cave.

  Amiri picked up a scale and narrowed her eyes to examine it better.

  "Linnorm," she said. "We have them up in the north. Nasty things."

  "What's a linnorm?" asked Valerie. She had been keeping silent ever since the encounter with the cultists.

  "A sort of lesser dragon," explained Amiri. "One kind of them breathes molten rock, which cools into pumice."

  "Can we, like, ask it nicely to find another hideout?" squeaked Linzi.

  Amiri shrugged.

  "You can try, if you have a death wish."

  Guelder rubbed her temples. This was the very, very last thing she needed today. She was not ready to deal with this right now, but it was not something she could let fester for long, either. In fact... what if this was the reason behind the entire apocalyptic nonsense?

  "You know what?" said Amiri. "I'm going in. I haven't had a decent monster in months."

  "No, you are not," hissed Guelder. "Be content with the hydra for today. We need time and a plan, and at the moment, we have neither."

  Stolen novel; please report.

  She jerked her head as a signal to leave. Hazel and Valerie gently took Amiri by the arms, and the group did its best to put a decent distance between themselves and the cave as quietly as possible.

  "Tristian," said the baroness once they reached the bridge, "get out your copper wire. I want you to do a Sending to Kassil. Come, let us compose the message."

  They made their way down to the riverbank below the bridge. Guelder was thinking frantically, counting words, when suddenly she felt Tristian touch her arm, ever so timidly, like a butterfly.

  "Guelder, now that it's only the two of us... I just wanted to thank you again for the rescue. Here. I, too, want to give you something as a thank you gift. Rest assured, it's not holy water."

  He took three vials from his backpack and handed them over to Guelder. Potions of Restoration. A useful and blessedly impersonal gift, one that would go into the shared inventory and be used according to the team's needs, hopefully not in the near future. Still, the entire situation felt awkward.

  "Thanks, Tristian. A valuable contribution to our supplies. But you do not owe me anything. We are companions, even friends. It is just natural to get each other out of trouble, is it not? Now help me with the text." Guelder counted the words on her fingers. "Guelder here. Dragon hazard at Gudrin bridge. Close the bridge to traffic. Cross the Gudrin at Shambling Steps and be at agreed spot by nightfall. Will this do?"

  "Perfect. Exactly 25 words. You're getting better at this."

  He ventured a shy smile. The baroness smiled back.

  "Send it, then."

  Guelder stepped back and left Tristian some space to contact Kassil and relay the message. It was a short conversation. The cleric soon opened his eyes, and dusted the remains of the copper wire off his fingers.

  "He confirmed receipt and had nothing to report. And... he sounded strangely enthusiastic."

  Guelder smiled to herself. Kassil was sometimes so eager to be of service. Tonight, he could make himself useful, and not only by closing down the bridge. He was to take position with his men in a forested area close to the sanctum and stand ready to pull her team out if the events at the sacrament got out of control. Valerie had a horn hanging from her belt to give off an emergency signal if necessary.

  "All right, then. Let us get going. Once we are done at the sacrament, we can figure out what to do about that linnorm."

  Guelder pulled her thick woolen cloak tighter around her body. Winter was starting to show its fangs, especially after sunset. Her fine elven boots that gave her the illusion of walking barefoot were much less suited for the season than the big furry monstrosities Amiri wore on her feet. She could feel the chilly ground drain the warmth from her body through the thin soles of her footwear, but she refused to imitate Linzi's little anti-freezing dance. Better not to show how skittish she felt inside.

  So she remained standing like a disciplined guard, her face hidden in a hooded cloak, her feet slowly freezing to the soil, watching the rows of flaming torches stabbed into the ground, and listening to the nonsense Remus the Rancid was spouting from the pulpit, his silhouette enveloped in eerie blue light coming from a lantern at his feet. Remus, who should now be preaching to Mayor Selline in neighbouring Mivon about the dangers of turf cutting and overgrazing in the boglands, or, even better, should have already been submerged in the swamp in a leaking barrel by the Mivoni city guards. As he had inexplicably vanished from the Tuskdale prison just before the bath prescribed for him by Guelder, his presence at the sacrament tonight was not that surprising. But his sermon was way too long, and it contained nothing new compared to what he'd said in the throne room. Also, he was not the one Guelder wanted to talk to. By the time Amalia, the sweet and smiling hostess of the sacrament, would finally introduce the First Faithful, the moon would be up above the horizon, and hell would break loose.

  The baroness was shivering, either with cold or with apprehension, or because she felt the approaching onset of frenzy with increasing intensity. Her eyes scanned the night sky, tracing the edge of clouds, waiting for and dreading the moment the moon would appear. Hazel stepped beside her and put an arm around her shoulder.

  "No need to worry, Guel," they said softly. "I will watch over you."

  She smiled at them in gratitude. The silver chain hanging from their belt pressed against her thigh, making her slightly uncomfortable. If the sacrament went on at this pace, they would have to use it before she could make any progress.

  "Tristian," she whispered to the cleric standing by her other side. "Go tell them I am here. Time is running out, and I have more important things to do than listen to a madman's hogwash until the moon claims me."

  The cleric obeyed. He wove his way forward among the cultists (mostly average-looking peasants) standing by in loose groups, until he reached a middle-aged man next to the pulpit. He exchanged a few words with him, pointing towards Guelder. Amalia joined in the conversation, nodding frantically. Then she sneaked up to Remus and began to poke him. The old man didn't take the hint but continued with his drivel until Amalia gently forced him to leave the pulpit, along with his lantern, and finally introduced the First Faithful.

  However, instead of taking the pulpit, the First Faithful beelined to Guelder.

  The baroness gave a mental command to Pangur, hidden behind a large tuft of last year's dead grass somewhere near the pulpit, to be ready for anything. Then she, too, started walking towards the First Faithful, with her companions in tow, meeting him halfways, at a little distance. It was harder and harder to hold herself together, but this was her chance. She tried to recall what Tristian had learnt about this man. A renegade priest of Erastil, father of a single daughter. Amalia. Was there anything else?

  "My brethren, this is a special occasion. So special that we even have a surprise guest amongst us."

  Guelder tossed her hood back. A few gasps of surprise and excited whispers rippled through the cultists. Of course, many of them didn't recognise her by sight, as she'd spent the better part of the last months on expeditions in the Narlmarches, and scarcely had time to visit the Kamelands. Now this came back to bite her. People in the Kamelands didn't give a damn to her successes against the trolls to the west. Most of them hadn't even seen a troll in their lives. Whatever their problem was, her previous achievements, perhaps even including her triumph over the Stag Lord, were irrelevant to it.

  "First Faithful and believers," she said, struggling to keep her voice steady. Her consciousness threatened to slip away at any moment, but she clung to it for dear life. At least until she asked her question. "I came at your invitation to find out more about your faith. More importantly, I wish to learn why you feel that your old gods have failed you, and why you are seeking comfort with a new deity. Share your burden with me, and let me see if I can help."

  She swallowed, but it didn't help much against the thick saliva filling her mouth. How long would she still be able to form the words?

  "Help," repeated the First Faithful with a smirk. "You can do that, indeed, by submitting to the Great Goddess of the Cleansed. Are you willing to lay down your own life and save the lives of your subjects?"

  The whispers quieted down. Amiri, Valerie and Hazel formed a protective circle around the baroness, with Linzi staying behind her. Tristian, stuck around the pulpit with Amalia, stared at her with eyes widened in horror. He shook his head, ever so slightly.

  Sweet Tristian. He knew her so well.

  "Father, no!" screamed Amalia. "She is not... I mean, she is, but... Oh, damn it all!"

  Guelder held the First Faithful's gaze, reining in the shivers with all her willpower. The first moonbeam fell onto her face from between two clouds, just above the hills.

  "Yes, I am," she said. Her words came out in a rasp. "I risk my life for this land and its people day by day. I walk among you and spare no time or effort to make Nightvale a safe and happy place for all its inhabitants. If there is no other way, I am ready to sacrifice myself for all of you. But you, First Faithful, do not get to say where, when and how, and neither does your goddess!"

  Did she just hear Remus chuckle to himself somewhere in the crowd?

  The people were slowly drifting towards her, closing in around her defenders. Linzi strummed her strings and started a song. Had she actually written one about the moon?

  Guelder let go. She fell on her knees and let the shivers take over, imbibing the moonlight with wide pupils, letting out a deep roar, revelling in her failing consciousness and the bloodlust bubbling up in her.

  Do not hold back.

  She stretched her entire body, from front paws to the tip of her tail, bared her fangs, and leapt forward to kill.