It took three years for Raban and Gailin to return to the Tomb. Both of them stood at the edge of the pit that took Sarisin. Neither looked down, not wanting to look. Instead, they set down a thick board and crossed over to the hallway toward the still glowing door. Raban, the right side of his face half burned away from the previous time, glared at it as Gailin mumbled to himself. Raban chuckled and patted his brother on the shoulder.

“Don't worry, this time we won't fail.”

Gailin chuckled again, “We are both stronger now. Not to mention the traps that little thief handled were still disarmed.”

“What else was the bitch good for?”

To their surprise, a powerful thought tore through their minds. Full of anger and hatred.

(Many things. Not that you would know.)

In front of them, the magical door swung open as Ab'asaruth stepped through it. His chest glowed as before, but the anger that filled the milky eyes sent a terrible chill down both brother's spines. Ab squeezed his hands into huge fists as he snarled at them.

(You never came for her!)

Gailin fumbled for his sword and Raban stepped back.

“No! She was already dead! She fell down the pit!”

Ab snarled and charged forward. Gailin finally yanked his sword out, but Ab was already there. With a powerful blow, he slammed his fist into the warrior's chest. The dull cracking noise of shattering ribs filled the air as Gailin flew back. Raban screamed as his brother's body flew past and disappeared into the pit behind them. From the darkness, he heard Gailin scream out as the spikes pierced his body.

Filled with rage, Raban threw up his hands, chanting the words to a destruction spell. Reddish lines of force formed from his fingers, into an intricate symbol floating in the air. With a bark, he threw out the last work of power and the entire hallway exploded in reddish flames. Ab's flesh burned and melted as his right shoulder exploded off his arm. Silent screams ripped through Raban's thoughts as the creature took a step back.

Raban gasped as the spell ended, looking at the smoking body of the creature leaning against the wall. One claw held the burned wound but the creature was still snarling. Raban stepped back again, chanting the words to another spell, a killing spell.

The words died in his throat as the creature laughed, the horrible sound of a voice not used in thousands of years.

“Fool, I've been cursed with worse magics than that.”

To Raban's horror, the burned arm began to reform itself, solidifying the fog and air into a hard, hairless arm. When Ab stepped forward a second later, it was completely formed and untouched. With a snarl, the creature stepped forward and Raban screamed.

Turning around, he tripped on the edge of the pit. Waving his hands for balance, he tried to avoid falling in the pit. Ab's hand snapped out, grabbing him by the wrist and twisting hard. His immense head grew close to Raban's and he snarled again, using an anger-filled voice that hurt the necromancer's ears.

“She was everything! You abandoned her. Find the pit she fell in, monster!”

The creature let go and Raban's scream filled the hall. It ended with a wet thud as the spikes caught him. Ab stared down into the pit, at both men who moved weakly. His lips curling, he whispered a few words and the floor started to reform, sealing itself. Raban's and Gailin's scream faded as the last of the stone floor reformed into a solid mess.

Then, Ab fell to his knees and the creature started to weep.