There wasn't anywhere to go, anyway. They were practically against the wall, too far away from the door to even consider making it. The forest god stopped before it reached him, the skull right in front of his face. This close Heln could make out every detail of the bone and the antlers that branched up from it. It was even larger than he'd expected, the skull alone was nearly the size of his torso, the antlers almost as tall as he was. It turned to the side to regard him with one eye. This close he could see that at the base of the skull was a line of vertebrae, black from the fog or from skin too tight on the bone, he honestly couldn't tell. He couldn't even breathe, icy terror clogging up his throat and seizing in his lungs.
The yellow point in the socket flashed.
Power drummed against his already weak shields. His timorous hold on them slipped away under the onslaught too easily.
He could feel that the chamber wasn't inherently magical anymore. The power that had been so overwhelming he nearly passed out had faded into nothing. The only thing that was keeping the entire thing from caving in was the magic that rolled off of the god in waves, as steady as a heartbeat.
He had no defense against the magic and he braced himself to be overwhelmed by it. Heln had thought it would feel as dark and oily as the shadows around the god looked.
Instead it was overpowering, immense, his brain couldn't actually comprehend just how much magic was coming from the god. He tried to focus on one thing, but it was impossible. There was no script or even the jagged uniformity of runes to hold everything in place. There wasn't even a magical signature. It just was.
He'd never felt magic so completely before and it was almost intoxicating.
The god felt him, too, he knew it. Heln could feel its presence invading his own. He thought if it continued he would be swept away in something much too ancient and immense to even be real.
There was a sadness there. Something empty and lonely and yearning. He'd never been able to feel emotions behind magic before.
Something shocked him away from the connection. He looked beyond the god to see Rhyss snatching something from the ground and throwing it. A rock bounced harmlessly off of the god, clattering against the floor.
"Really?" Bel rasped out. "That was your plan?"
She had a tight hold on Heln's shoulder with her good hand. Now that he wasn't completely overwhelmed just by the god's presence, that touch was grounding.
The skull turned towards Rhyss, cold shadows brushing against Heln's arm. They felt like ice and cobwebs and he shuddered, trying to move enough to brush ineffectively at the sensation still crawling over his hand but he couldn't seem to move.
Rhyss threw another rock and it bounced off of the skull with a hollow sound. "Go away!"
"Oh yeah. That's going to work." Bel's grip on Heln was weakening and her words were starting to slur.
It took every bit of willpower Heln had, but he finally pulled himself free from whatever had rooted him to the spot, turning around to help Bel sit down. His sister's breathing was getting wheezy and irregular, her face was paler than the skull, and her eyes were glassy. They weren't going to be running out of the chamber, or anywhere else, and the realization anchored Heln's stomach to the floor.
The dark fog spread across the floor of the chamber and it felt almost tacky, clinging to their clothes and hands.
"Get out of here!" Rhyss was screaming desperately. He turned just in time to see the god hold out a hand. In response, the fog rushed at Rhyss, and when it passed she was lying on the ground.
He wanted to scream, he wanted to do anything, but all he could do was try to keep Bel upright and stare in horror at her. Bel slumped against him, her eyes closing.
"What do you want?" He looked up at the god, waiting for it to kill him, too. Or worse.
It lifted its hand again, but the fog didn't react. It was closer to him than it had been before. Heln could smell trees and earth, the way they were fresh and new after a rain shower. The hand was strange, the fingers too long and too sharp, but the palm pressed gently to his forehead was almost warm.
Everything became a rushing darkness.
*~*~*
Heln woke up in degrees.
His brain felt like it had been insulated in cotton and it took a long time to sort that out. When he could finally move enough to put a hand to his forehead he had to yank it out of a loose pile of soil and stone. He was half buried.
He scrambled out of the shallow depression, his chest heaving. Bel was right next to him and Rhyss was a few feet away. For a moment that lasted an agonizing eternity, he was absolutely terrified that the worst had happened, but Bel was breathing. It was shallow, but it was there.
Rhyss shifted a bit. He remembered to breathe himself and finally looked around.
They were outside.
It was night. A crescent moon shone softly in the sky above them. Everything was a blur, but it looked like they were in an open area. The hill of the city rose above the dark smudge of a tree line, dotted with warm lights that reflected the stars he couldn't make out. A cold,
