"Let's turn back," I told Tuck.

"And head home?" He sounded much too eager.

"No. Let's just get out of this canyon and back onto the main path."

First we moved left following a dry river bed which held loose rock and uneven footing.

"We didn't come this way," I said feeling the flush of frustration heating my collar. "I don't remember any of this."

We turned back, this time breaking right and moved on for a time until I came to realize that not a single landmark stood out to me.

"This is wrong," I said stopping to catch my breath. The travel grew weary and I regretted ever slipping into the chainmail piece earlier that day. It doubled my weight and held unbearable heat upon my skin even through the soft swath of my jerkin.

Tuck flopped down upon a large rock next to me and relinquished his helmet to the ground, no doubt feeling the same ill effects as I.

"Gods, we're lost." He spoke in such a defeatist's tongue that I nearly snapped his head off.

"We are not lost. Now get up and let's keep moving."

"Where?"

"Back into the canyon."

"There's nothing to be gained that way."

"It's our only choice. Let's see it through to the other side."

I didn't like the decision any more than Tuck did, the discomfort of my inner warning playing hell on my memory, but we'd run out of options.

In our descent down we would err on the side of caution, taking every step very slow and measured. The further down we retreated, the darker it seemed to become as the deep crevices of the canyon rose up around us and blocked out the remaining light of the sun.

It seemed the elements of Mother Earth were against us as well. I wondered for a moment if in some telling way we were being warned to proceed no further.

Looking back at Tuck with the brim of his helmet too far over his eyes, and the slide rather than step of each foot, I knew I had to hold strong for both of us. Whatever dark and mysterious forces we were about to contend with in the pit of a black canyon couldn't be any worse than those we'd tangled with before...at least that's what I kept telling myself.

Another half step in and a wisp of fog seemed to come from out of nowhere, wrapping us in clouds of vapor so thick that I could scarcely make out my own hands in front of my eyes much less the safe passage.

Off instinct I pulled my dagger from my waist and extended it in front of me, lashing left to right in the air as I pressed forward. If anything were going to make a jump at us I intended to be readily armed at the very least.

I could hear Tuck behind me, calling my name in an almost fevered hysteria.

"It's alright, Tuck," I said reaching one hand back and blindly catching his wrist. "I'm right here. Grab hold of my belt and follow me through.

Tuck obeyed my request and we moved in a human chain as best we could through the fog. As we pressed further I made out a distinctive mix of smells in the air. It held the elements of coal, brimstone, and the very real and pungent scent of death.

As the fog fell loosely from our shoulders and our path grew clear once again we realized we'd been completely thrown off course.

"Hallowed Grounds." Tuck spoke low, almost under his breath. I had to strain to pick up his words. When I did, I wished I'd been struck stone deaf at birth. I cast my gaze out across the open field that had presented itself in front of us.

As I took in the rampant destruction I realized Tuck spoke the truth. Somehow through our missteps through the blinding fog we'd managed to find ourselves in the middle of an open graveyard known to all as the Hallowed Grounds.

No holy ground lay under our feet here. When my house mother, Cecile, had been alive she'd broken away from the tales of her husband's adventures at sea long enough to impart the story of how The Hallowed Grounds had come to be.

It had been many years before when the grounds that housed Gryphant and its neighbors lay flat, uninhabited by people. Two twin cities were at war, each intent on taking up the land under their own rule. Each side optioned their very best in the attacks. Nobility, kings, and even those of the clergy took up arms. The battle lasted for weeks, raging more vicious with each passing hour. It finally came to be that no man was left standing. Bodies littered the ground. Thousands of corpses of the fallen remained as statues in their final moments of life for many years. Each lifeless corpse grew skinless, and eyeless before they returned to the dust from which they were spawned.

What remained stood before us now -- the very real presence of death open and exposed to all who were unfortunate enough to find themselves upon the Hallowed Grounds. Over time markers had been erected, representative of the fallen in their last moments of life. They formed something of a border around the battlegrounds. They were pillars of granite standing over six feet with the sculpted likenesses of five individual gargoyles resting atop them. They watched over the dead, protecting their lost kings even now. Dead Birchwood trees stood leafless in the field. Dark, thick plumes of smoke billowed up from fires that should've been long since extinguished. Though the battle had been over for some time the air still held a very unsettling aura of that time, as though there were unfinished affairs that needed tending and at any moment the dead would rise up and continue clashing steel upon steel into eternity.

"I want to go." Tuck fell over his words in a messy stutter. For once I agreed with him. The only problem of course lay in the fact that I didn't know how we'd found our way to the gravesite in the first place, so getting out presented a real problem.

"Let's turn and try to retrace our steps." It was the best thing I could come up with though backtracking would prove difficult. The thick smoke had swayed us far from our immediate path. But going any further into the Hallowed Grounds would only be more detrimental to our lives and livelihood.

I turned about, Tuck close at my heels, and started towards what I thought to be the path we'd come in from. Slowly, cautiously we moved until a sharp keening assaulted our ears. I whirled round, dagger displayed in defense, and sought the source of the cry.

"Those sight markers," Tuck said slowly. "They aren't complete."

"What do you mean?" I held my concern at the back of my throat and cautiously turned my attention to the granite pillars. To my chagrin they were not complete as Tuck had said. A very important element was void from each and everyone. The tops were bare. The gargoyles missing.

"What do you think it means?" Tuck asked. I had no answer of my own but we would both soon discover the meaning of it together.

Another ear-piercing wail rang out and it brought our eyes to the sky above. There we found the missing gargoyles. Five of them thundered above. Heavy-set haunches hovering over us as wings of granite held them aloft.

My mouth fell agape, my eyes wide with terror. The gruesome features, once stone now moved in grotesque malevolence as another shrill cry, a warning from above, rang out from first onethen all five.

Tuck almost fell over himself as he backpedaled towards the path we'd stumbled in from. I followed suit and turned on my heel to run, my head whipped back over my shoulder several times to keep an eye on the gargoyle pack.

At first they didn't move. They simply hovered in the air marking us with their eyes. I took it upon myself to react before they did. I returned my knife to its home and, taking up the sling Tuck had built for my birthday, I saddle a good size rock in its cradle, marked my target, and let it fly.

It was a good aim and I wound up taking out one of the gargoyles in the center of the pack. This angered the others and they were swift to move.

Tuck pushed on ahead of me and I took up the rear with one last glance back towards the hell we'd just escaped from, only to find that hell now followed us. The gargoyles were on the move and swifter than I would've imagined a formerly stone statue would be, though I never ventured to guess I would see one in flight either.