The trio approach another hill. Each regards it with a different emotion; the guide with indifference, the smallest one with fear, and the flame-coated one with an exhaustion-tinted gaze that barely registers the obstacle in front of them.

The smallest one hangs back to help his friend. The one with the flaming coat is nearing the stage where he can no longer be called that. His weary body shows every bone, and his formerly beautiful red coat is dull and patchy. The smallest one steadies him as he wavers at the foot of the hill; he has been struggling more and more with each incline they face. They reach the top of the hill, breathing ragged, and survey the scene before them.

Two skeletons, one equine and one human, lie together, unearthed by unwary travellers and the pecking of the not-crows above. The human's arms are wrapped around the Courser's head as they share one last, eternal embrace.

The flame-coated one regards this with dull curiosity. He wonders at the depth of affection they must have had for each other to be buried like this; perhaps they were equals, in this other life. His body decides that is enough thinking for today, and he collapses at the smallest one's feet.

This place is cursed, that is for certain- or, at least as certain as the smallest one is willing to voice. He says this quietly to their guide, who responds equally quietly but with a vehemence that has followed them since their entry to this level - this place will steal the innocence from their souls, he says. He was hired to keep them safe on the third level as they searched for a mare called Solstice who, now, may or may not still be called Solstice and may not even be alive. He is not convinced they should stay down here much longer - from the flame-coated one's own mouth, he is unsure that a bright spark such as Solstice would have lingered on such desolate terrain.

The flame-coated one finds the strength to rise to his feet. How are they to know what her nature is now, he says. They must find her.