It was dark, like he expected. But this darkness was nothing he had seen in the mortal realm. This felt like a void, even though he was sure he had stepped into the mortal realm when he used the silver pool. Had it sent him to the wrong place?
There was a speck of light in the distance. Vale stepped toward it, the darkness so thick it clung to his robes as he walked. The shadows stunk of sulfur, and Vale growled in displeasure.
“Oh, good,” came a quiet, raspy voice from the light ahead. “I thought it was the small one again, come to beg for a companion.”
“Who?” Vale asked, unable to stop himself.
“The small one,” the voice repeated. “With purple eyes. He lives not far from here. He keeps coming to ask me to help him get a wife.”
“A wife,” Vale repeated, a memory stirring in his head: a young Skullstalker kneeling in front of Slate, sounding dejected as Slate declined him.
“Or a husband,” the voice continued. “He is not fussy. Come closer. My eyes are not what they were.”
Vale approached slowly, squinting into the light. After another few steps, a figure became clear.
The Skullstalker was old. So old it confused Vale, who had always thought that Slate was the oldest of them all. This creature’s skin sagged, and his skull mask was chipped with age. Instead of glowing, his eyes were grey and cloudy. The old Skullstalker bared his teeth, showing several missing fangs. It took Vale a moment to realize he was not being threatened; this was a smile.
“You are new,” the Skullstalker said happily. “It is good to meet you.”
“You as well,” said Vale cautiously. “My brothers insist you can help me.”
The Skullstalker shrugged, such an odd movement from a Skullstalker that it shocked Vale into silence.
“I will do my best,” said the Skullstalker humbly. “Come, come. Tell me your woes.”
He turned. Vale followed him, his claws fully extended. Slate had assured Vale he could trust this stranger, but how could he when even Slate did not know his name after all this time?
A cave appeared through the shadows, huge and looming. The Skullstalker hobbled calmly into it, then turned back to face him.
“You came here because you need something,” said the Skullstalker. “That is the only reason any soul visits me. That, orto tell me what has become of them after I sent them away the first time.”
“What has become of them?”
The Skullstalker smiled again. “It is the one thing I require. If I help you, you must come back and tell me what happened because of my assistance. I am attached to my cave, but I get so little entertainment here.”
Vale eyed him warily. This was perhaps the strangest Skullstalker he had ever met. Then again, he had not met many. They were a solitary species.
“So,” the Skullstalker continued. “What would you wish of me? Let me guess… your size has become a problem with your mortal paramour?"
“One of many,” Vale said. “But not the most pressing.”
“Oh?” The Skullstalker’s cloudy eyes glinted. “Well. Let us get that taken care of, and then we can move on.”
He limped over to the wall of the cave and lifted a jar of black oil off a shelf.
“What must be done?” Vale asked.
The Skullstalker shushed him, dipping a clawed finger into the black oil and reaching for Vale’s face.
Vale jerked back instinctually with a snarl.
“I only mean to help,” the Skullstalker assured him. He raised his dripping claw again.
Vale forced himself to calm. Even tired as he was, he could still rip this old Skullstalker in two with little effort.
He stilled. The Skullstalker ran his wet claw over Vale’s skull, tracing patterns that Vale did not understand. After a brief pause to run two dark slashes down his collarbones, he pricked his thumb. Then he pricked Vale’s, dripping their combined blood into the jar of oil.
He dipped his claw back in and drew one drop on Vale’s lower lip.
