Lying would be easy. It would be easy to open your mouth and tell your partner that you’re fine. But that’s a lie; and something in you isn’t prepared to be dishonest with the man you’ve allowed to be in charge of you. So you answer in a low voice. “This is going to be a lot more complicated. Not exactly what I was expecting when we came here.”

“Will it be dangerous for you?” Dorian takes a step closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“Maybe.” You can’t help but continue being honest, even though you know it’ll worry your lover. “I can’t say anything for certain right now, though,” you admit.

Grant steps a bit closer to the two of you, glancing at your face uncertainly. “What’s going to happen to all of the people who died and came back under the curse’s influence?” he asks quietly. “I…I can’t lose them.”

Truthfully, you don’t know. This is a situation you've had very little experience with. But you can guess. And you tell him that guess like it’s the truth, because it’s the worst-case scenario. And he has to be prepared for it. “Once the curse is lifted, nature will resume its natural course. What was dead will return to death.”

Grant’s face falls and for an instant, just for an instant, you feel a stab of regret. But it’s not in you to give out false hope. It’s why you never promised Mary life. False hope, or hope that’s then ripped away, hurts so much worse than no hope at all.

“Can you guide us to the spot where the statue was?” In truth, you don’t need him to. You can easily tell Dorian which direction he needs to drive in.

But the kid looks like he needs something else to focus on. So you give him something.

Grant nods, slowly, and follows you and Dorian back to the car. He gets into the backseat and buckles up without a word, only speaking once both you and Dorian have taken your seats. And then it’s only to direct you in low, listless tones.

Apart from Grant’s directions, the drive to the statue’s site takes place in silence. Mentally, you’re preparing yourself for a psychic backlash of epic proportions. Fighting this curse could just as easily spell your end.

But all of you have something to lose and your struggles are no greater than those of your partner, or those of Grant.

You sense it as you approach. A deep scar that’s wounded the land. Corruption bubbling deep below the surface. A heart pierced with a poisoned blade, carved in two, contained within wooden prisons.

There is no visible sign, but just like a fruit that appears fresh and ripe until it’s bitten into, you can taste the rot below the surface.

There are two men already standing in front of a car. From the tense way they stand and the guns in their holsters, you assume they’re both in law enforcement.

Almost as soon as the car’s stopped, you’re unbuckling and opening the door, stepping over to the two men. You can hear the sound of the other car doors opening and closing behind you, but don’t turn round to watch Dorian and Grant getting out. Instead, you hold your hand out to each of the men in turn. “My name is Anubis,” you introduce yourself.

“Walter Crow Horse.” The speaker shakes your hand and then wraps his arm possessively around the other man’s waist. “This is my husband. Ray Levoi.”

Ray shakes your hand, but a quiet snort escapes him and he shakes his head. “You’re a spirit guardian?”

“Yes,” you answer calmly.

Ray opens his mouth, but Walter’s possessive squeeze grips a bit firmer, almost in warning, and he subsides.

“Are you here to help?” Walter asks you.

“Yes,” you answer. “I’m going to try and break the curse that’s now infested your home. Unfortunately, breaking the statue didn’t destroy the curse. Just allowed it to spread over a wider area.”

“Damn it,” Ray mutters, lowering his eyes to the ground.

Grant moves to your side, arms wrapped around his own torso. “Anubis says that, once the curse is broken, all of the dead will return to being dead. That includes Paul and Martin,” he whispers, sounding lost.

Another stab of remorse goes through you, but you hide it well. You think.

“I’m sorry, Grant,” Walter says soberly. “But there’s at least one fellow officer who’s been hurt, maybe killed. We have to consider how many more people might suffer if we do nothing.”

Grant hangs his head, but before he or anyone else can say anything, the ground trembles and quakes beneath your feet. You keep your balance, but only just, and watch as two caves erupt from the ground.

While this wasn’t caused by anything you did, you can feel the poisoned, broken heart resonating from each cave. But when you take a step forward, you’re brought up short by an invisible wall. You can’t approach. You can’t retrieve the pieces of the heart yourself.

Narrowing your eyes, you can see thin, silvery rope stretching from Grant to one cave; and from Walter and Ray to the other. Words come from some place deep inside you, some instinct driving you to give directions. “Enter the cave you feel drawn to. Bring me out the object you find within.” And then your throat closes over, not allowing you to give them any more help.

Dorian moves to your side as you both watch the three head towards a cave, Grant entering one alone while Walter and Ray enter the other.

Now all you can do is wait.