“I was disappointed that I wouldn’t get to cross swords with the famous Rufus Remore,” she said with a sneer. “Looks like I’m lucky after all.”

Rufus didn’t respond, instead lunging forward. What followed was a blaze of movement so fast Jason had, at best, a vague grasp of what was taking place. They bobbed and weaved, both restricted by the width of the stairs. Between them was a blur of motion, sword against trowel. Despite the inferior weapon and the lower ground, Rufus was pushing the cultist back.

“That’s enough, Alicia,” a voice came down from above. Jason recognised it as the woman from the basement.

With a look of reluctance, Alicia disengaged from her fight with Rufus and started backing up the stairs. Rufus lazily tossed the trowel into the air, where Gary smoothly snatched it and launched it out with a flick of his powerful arm. The practiced ease of the pair’s teamwork took Alicia by surprise; she failed to react before the trowel lodged itself in her throat.

“You’ll die in pain for that, you hairy brute,” the woman’s voice came fiercely down. As the woman yelled, Alicia dropped her sword, clutching at the trowel buried in her throat as she staggered and fell off the stairs.

Rufus moved forward, snatching up the dropped sword as he went. He led the way up to the final platform. The last cage, and the woman inside it, were against the wall like all the others. The platform was slightly longer than the one below, with some kind of ritual altar on the end. There were two figures standing in front of it. Rufus and Gary stepped onto the platform first, while behind them Jason pulled a gold spirit coin from his inventory and discreetly palmed it.

The final two cultists had both removed their masks and hoods. The woman seemed much younger than Jason expected for someone with adult children. To Jason’s eyes she looked to be in her early thirties, no older than her son Landemere. She was beautiful, with the same olive skin and dark hair as her daughter. The man next to her, by contrast, was plain. In his ceremonial robes looked like those of a chartered accountant at a costume party.

Despite his appearance, the man quickly demonstrated his power was not to be dismissed. He threw out his arms and Rufus and Gary were both thrown back, slamming into the wall. Glowing chains emerged from the stone to wrap around their limbs, binding them in place. Jason, now the last one left, looked nervously at the now helpless pair.

“You’re still causing trouble,” the woman said to Jason. “First my son, now my daughter? They may have been worthless, but weren’t for the likes of you to kill.”

“Not a lot of pictures up on your fridge, I’m guessing.”