Ser Dalius peered at the stone as he floated over. He hesitated and seemed to skirt well clear of the glowing magics. He ran his hand against the stone wall, then pointed out the hinges.

“It’s…less intelligible than I recall, I admit. But the doors have never been opened. They were closed; locked into place, but those hinges will not simply swing back. This tomb was meant to be closed forever. Even in ages since, Afiele and Noelictus know their duty!”

He puffed his chest out proudly. Cara couldn’t help it. She pointed at the dirt walls and swore she heard some rustling. It raised the hair on her back, and she glanced around—but there were no mice visible, bone or otherwise.

“And the mice?’

She raised her eyebrows, covering the lurch of her guts as she walked over to one of the stone coffins, placing it at her back. Dalius hesitated. He flew back over to the dirt and poked at it.

“I, uh—well, they’re small. The entrance is sealed, Miss Cara. And unless you can shapeshift, this is the only way out. And that poses our problem.”

The ghost changed subjects, hovering in the air, frowning, regarding the massive doors. Cara stared blankly at the doors as well.

She couldn’t see how to open them. Even aside from the magic…they were huge. With power tools, she’d give up. With a sledgehammer—no, a wrecking ball—

She’d give up. The doors looked solid. Cara assumed the creators of the tomb hadn’t really wanted something to get out from the inside.

Even so. She gazed up at Ser Dalius hopefully. They’d finally made it to the doors, and he had promised her there was a way out. Yet he kept searching for mice, muttering about having to now grind up their bones. He didn’t even glance twice at the giant doors, for all their magnificence.

Now they were here—the [Knight] seemed reluctant to focus on his mission.

“Dalius. Dalius. Can you open the tomb?”

Reflexively, Ser Dalius inhaled. He looked down at her as he stood in front of the doors. He shrugged, floating over to her.

“I have no knowledge of who cast this spell. Nor the authority to command the doors to open, Miss Cara.”

“Have you tried?”

“…Once. But they responded not to my words.”

He muttered. Cara looked at him. She was shifting from foot to foot and stopped herself, wincing, as she felt her blistered feet protest.

She couldn’t help it. She looked at the doors.

“What about the magic?”

“Hm? Oh…well, if I had my actual sword, I could probably try cutting it apart. Break the gems, cut the magic—spells are like that. Most do terrible things, but, in my experience, if you hit them hard enough or behead the spellcaster…”

Ser Dalius realized Cara was looking at the doors. He exhaled.