Was he dead? The [Knight] made no move. He did not breathe, and hung there, suspended. There was no clue that he was conscious. Cara called out, haltingly, disbelieving.

“Dalius.”

At first, Cara thought he was truly…dead. Or non-responsive. Then the head slowly rose. The eyes opened.

Ser Dalius looked up at her. Shock ran across his face. Then despair.

“Cara? Why are you here?”

Exhaustion ran through his voice, as well as disbelief. The young woman reached out for Dalius. It couldn’t be. He’d vanished after breaking the seal. Died. He—

Her fingertips stopped, and she hesitated as she felt the chill, felt the stinging pain and cold inches away from his face.

“I—I thought you died. Dalius. What happened?”

“The [Necromancer].”

That was all Dalius said. He didn’t need to explain. He tried to move and groaned; the black bindings held him. He spoke through gritted teeth.

“He has defiled the Tomb of Afiele. I have failed in my one duty. He—he has raised an army of the honored dead! Created a giant out of bodies. I saw it all. He bound me here after defeating me.”

Cara hesitated, staring at Dalaius.

“How? He’s stronger than you are? I thought—”

The [Knight] twitched. His head hung.

“I was tricked. I believed him to be a mere wanderer at first and let my guard down. In this place, he was empowered by all the death magic here. I—lost. He did not kill me, though. He wants to bind me to his service. Use the entire tomb to create stronger undead.”

He struggled, but gave up after a second.

“I cannot break free. Nor die. So I can only wait. Failed. Failed in my one task.”

He laughed, and this was an echo of the maddened [Knight] Cara had heard before. His spirit cracking.

She just gazed at him. All of that made sense, but she was struggling to accept he was even…here.

“Dalius. You—you came back? I saw you die. I thought—”

The man laughed. He looked at Cara with growing hysteria. Perhaps he thought she was as much a figment of his imagination as he seemed to her. His feverish gaze locked on Cara, almost mockingly.

“I lied. I swore to guard the tomb. I feared—I lied to you for once, Cara.”

He laughed again—no, a hysterical giggle.

“And see what it has done. I failed. I let my guard down and that foul [Necromancer] took Afiele’s dead to war against the living. To kill the [Lord of the Fields] and end House Afiele. My one consolation is that he will fail. He must fail, yes, and then I will be disgraced in failure and…”