Our descent through the palace was swift. Only a few echoes stood between us and the sealed door leading to the Well chamber. The earthen walls were constrictive and sharp, but familiar. I led my companions down through level after level, passing barricaded armories and lavish alcoves, until we reached the Well.

The doors were shattered, as expected. Mal pressed a hand to the door frame and nodded at me. “Gwyn.”

Inside was broken opulence and grandiose decay. The colored tiles were still bright and crisp, and the wall murals depicted scenes out of lost history, but the floor had been smashed by some great power, and the Waters of Prophecy had lost their opalescent glimmer.

I’d only ever seen the Well in drawings and Chantry sketches passed down from the founders. I could see the chamber as it had once been, glorious and gleaming. But the waters were murky and dark. Tiles around the edges of the pool were splintered, and through the murk I could see jutting shards of that same material on the bottom of the Well, exposing dirt and rock below.

I knelt by the edges of the Well and let the black waters pass between my fingers. I dared not drink from it.

Mal grimaced. “Inert. I can’t tell for how long, though.”

Gavin peered over the edge of the Well and frowned. “I can. Look at the Waters: they’re still absorbing into the earth and draining away. This was recent. Very recent. In a day this pool will be empty.”

Merill shook her head. “I don’t get it. Why would Gwyn destroy the Well? Why waste something she spent so much effort to get?”

I stood up. “Maybe she didn’t like what she saw. Doesn’t matter now. Prophecy has caused us enough trouble. We keep moving. We continue the hunt.”

“Where? What else could she want in the city?”

I let out a strained breath and dug through my memories of our time in the city. Of everything Gwyn had focused on. Everything she cared about. “Nero. The dead emperor. He humiliated her. Sometimes it almost felt like Gwyn cared more about getting revenge on Nero than reaching the Well. That’s where she would have gone next.”

We all spared one final moment to watch the Waters of Prophecy drain away, and then we began the climb up through the palace.

Going up, the palace halls were abandoned. No more echoes haunted them, and all the figures I’d seen in my previous trip were gone. Devoured, most likely.

Without even ghostly inhabitants, the palace began to truly resemble the shell it was, the specter of a dead empire. This place was a ruin, a wreck. There were tattered banners, and withering corpses, and there was silence.

The twin doors of the throne room were closed and intact, unlike most of the palace. I pushed them open without ceremony and stepped into Nero’s court.

All the dancers and guards and courtiers were gone. Every remnant of nobility had vanished. Every shadow of imperial glory, consumed. Only one figure remained: Nero, slumped on his throne, overlapping his rotted corpse.

“Ah,” he said, “guests. Are you here to finish me off? I’m afraid I won’t be much of a fight without my guards.” His voice wasn’t dreamy and distant, but rather tired and broken. He looked more whole than Strix, as if Gwyn had simply ignored him in her conquest of the palace.

I started walking towards him. “You look well. Relatively, at least. Seems Valerian took care of your sycophants for you.”

“Oh yes, she made short work of my court. Lapdogs, all of them. They were no match for the warlock and her teacher.”

I stopped. “Teacher? So Caligula is with her?”

Nero let out a long sigh and glared at me. “Why are you here? What do you want? I am defeated. My empire has been taken from me. Everything I did was for nothing. Let an old man wither away in peace.”

I laughed with disbelief. “Everything you did? You killed your own people! You massacred this world because you were afraid of losing power. You don’t deserve peace. Everything that has happened is your fault.”

“Yes… it is my fault. My fault for letting your degenerate progenitors survive. For letting them run away from their problems. My fault for not executing those rebels while they were within reach. If only I had killed your ancestors, I could still be ruling my city.”

I curled my lip in disgust. “You’re a monster and a murderer. But if you tell me where Valerian went, maybe I’ll grant you a quick death.”

Nero stared at me with undisguised hatred, but his resolve wavered. He rose from his seat with a creaking groan. “She stole something from me. A magical bracer. It’s part of their plan, gathering artifacts. Using them for a very dangerous ritual. The Vault. The Vault is where you will find her. Hurry and you might catch her.”

“Thank you. I know you don’t care, but you did the right thing. You may have even saved lives.”

He sneered. “Just finish me. I hope the warlock kills you all.”

I gave Mal an affirmative nod and her blade cleaved through the emperor’s ghost.

The vault was in another wing of the palace, but it wasn’t difficult to reach. Again and again, each hall we entered was barren and still.

We passed locked gates and sealed entryways that had been blasted and hacked to pieces by our quarry. Every obstacle had been torn down with callous brutality, left in scattered piles as a mark of her passing. We picked our way through wood chips and stone shards, drawing closer and closer to the vault.

The vault’s door, too, was shattered. We entered cautiously, watching for any sign of danger.

The vault was made of similar materials as the Well chamber: brass and tile and ornate sculpting. This room seemed more artificial though, reinforced with iron where the Well relied on natural stone. There were shelves and cubbyholes everywhere, and in a weird way it reminded me of the Council armory.

It was also trashed. We ventured into the vault and spread out. Mal picked up a twisted bit of metal and tossed it over to me. It looked like it was supposed to be a flower. I gave Mal a questioning glance.

“Magic. Or it was. Gwyn broke it.”

There were other bits and pieces of scrap and junk lying about, all in similar states of vandalism. One by one, Mal confirmed each of them to be a recently-inert artifact.

I kneaded my forehead and tried to figure out her plan. “Why? Why destroy a bunch of artifacts?”

Merill shrugged. “Maybe she didn’t want us getting them? These don’t look like enough items to fill all the shelves.”

Gavin nodded. “So she took what she needed, then wrecked the place to keep us from figuring out the details, or from arming ourselves?”

I sighed. “Maybe. But it means we’re too late, again. And this time we don’t have any clue where she’s going next.”

A cold, slithering voice interrupted us. “All for the best, little children.” A spectral figure darted from behind a corner, an imposing woman wearing ornate armor decorated with skulls. She threw up her hands and cackled as green lightning crackled towards us.

Caligula.

We scattered, dodging away from her attack and drawing our weapons. I ended up closest and she lunged for me with outstretched hands and a manic grin. I sliced at her, but the lantern was too far away for my strikes to have substance.

Caligula pressed against me, her hands wrapping around my throat, the cold seeping in. More green energy started to crackle and flicker around her fingertips, burning my skin. Everything was going blurry, cold lethargy and searing emptiness taking away my ability to fight back.

Then lantern-light fell over us and I could feel her weight, could feel Caligula’s physical presence. I struggled against her but her grip was too strong, so I extricated one arm and gave her a right hook to the face.

I heard something crack, and with a snarling grunt Caligula rolled away from me. On her hands and knees she shuddered, and that cracking sound played again, but this time in reverse. She looked up and already her nose was setting itself. Her vicious gaze swept away from me and settled on Sam holding the lantern.

“Suffer.” Caligula pointed and emerald magic tore into Sam, wrapping around her and biting into her flesh. Sam screamed and dropped the lantern, which skittered across the floor. She wheezed and coughed as she slumped against the ground, breathing heavily.

Mal’s face contorted and she shrieked. Mal lunged across the room, scooped up the lantern, and swung her sword down in a crushing blow aimed straight at Caligula’s smug face. The warlock caught the blade with her hand, steel sinking into ethereal flesh. Mal struggled and pushed, but Caligula was unmoved.

The warlock taunted us. “Is this your best, heroes? I have feasted on this city’s filth. I have taught my apprentice how to gorge on the spirits of the weak. Now you five think to challenge a lord of the dark arts? Naive fools.”

Caligula shoved against Mal’s blade and sent her stumbling back. The warlock rose to her feet, the cut on her hand already healing. “I am Caligula. I am the grand warlock. You cannot hope to defeat me.” Emerald power writhed in her hands, ready to be unleashed.

Two arrows flew at the warlock and slammed into her shoulder with a meaty thunk. She snarled, but simply tore them out and threw them to the ground. Again, the wound healed. Gavin and Merill nocked another arrow each.

This wasn’t working. Caligula was too powerful and too well-fed. I wasn’t sure even a lethal blow would be able to kill her. She’d died once already, after all. I needed a different strategy.

My eye caught something on the ground, and a plan sprung to mind. I shouted to Gavin and Merill, “Keep firing! Pin her down!” and dove across the armory floor.

Caligula threw lightning at me, but her aim was off by inches. I scrambled to my feet next to Mal and took cover behind a row of shelves. Mal looked at me questioningly and I showed her what was in my hands: a dull blue crystal.

“Is this what I think it is?” I asked.

Mal closed her eyes and concentrated, then opened them and nodded. “Yeah. Just like back home.”

“Any idea how I use it?”

“Um… only guesses. Best odds? Supercharge it with as much sorcery as you can give.”

As good as I was going to get. I poked my head out from behind the shelving and saw a grim battle. Gavin and Merill were being slowly forced back by the warlock, who looked barely scratched by all their efforts. She taunted them and cackled as she drew closer and closer.

I took a breath to steady my nerves, clutched the Ossuary tightly, and ran towards Caligula.

She saw me coming and sneered. “Bold new strategy. It won’t work.” She sent a final blast at the twins, forcing them to take cover, then turned her full attention to me. “This moment has been a long time coming. Even now, my apprentice draws power.”

In the distance, a peal of thunder. A stirring, something pulling on me, but weakly, as if far away.

“Valerian has learned well. She has everything she needs. She can do what I could not, and then this world and all worlds will burn. There will be no more empires. No more emperors. No more slaves. Just ash.”

Gwyn. We were too late. I shoved those thoughts away; time for that later. First, Caligula. I needed magic. All of my magic.

There was a well of power inside me, a font of vicious, angry, hateful energy. It was a power I had nurtured, slowly and with much disgust, because I thought I needed it. Because Gwyn could use it, and I had to match her, had to at least compete. Had to compare myself to her, constantly.

She betrayed me. She betrayed us all. She would kill everyone I loved if I let her. If I let her, because this was my fault. My mistakes. My ego, my crush, my stupidity. My fault. My fault. My fault.

Gwyn needed to die. Her teacher needed to die. This whole wretched, dead, hellish empire needed to die. And I would be the one to kill its last gasp.

I poured every drop of anger I had into that well, and I took all that power and magic and I thrust it into the Ossuary. I felt a snap, a crack, and I felt my magic die. All used up, forever.

Red light surged into the crystal in my hands, and Caligula’s smug expression vanished.

“No. I do not accept this. I will not fall like this.” Crimson tendrils lashed out at her and wrapped around her limbs, binding her, dragging her in. “I am the dark lord. I am the grand warlock.” Her own power crackled and fizzled against red ribbons, useless. “You are a worm! You are nothing!”

“Stop talking.”

And with a final defiant scream, Caligula was gone. The crystal in my hands pulsed once, and then fell to pieces and cracked against the armory floor.

I swept my gaze around the room and took in the chaos. We may have won, but it was close, and we were all hurting. Mal was by Sam’s side, pulling her up, while Gavin and Merill recovered as many arrows as they could.

“We have to move. Whatever Gwyn’s just started, maybe we still have time to stop it. Are you with me?”

One by one, they nodded through the pain. Together we left the palace behind.