There was no time to mourn Lady Spoonface. And anyway, it was hard to tell if a doll was actually dead or not. Eldaline argued that they were always dead, while in Skavild's mind they never were. They were moderately delighted to cross a courtyard overgrown with ivy, until the unnaturally warm air struck them back into gloomy silence.
The slight breeze dropped, and the air was deathly still. So it was surprising that black clouds now roared overhead faster than a murder of crows.
The guards returned. Now that the elves and the two humans saw it for themselves, the skeletal men seemed to emerge from plumes of dirty smoke near the walls.
Aralina was most offended when they shot at her. She wondered if she should say something. But for now she only fired in return.
Some of the weapons borne by the skeletal guardsmen were fiendishly cruel in looks, and appeared to be of old Breton make, as was their armour. Aranwen was particularly impressed by the spiky ball, and she thought it would go with her gloves, so she set off to engage the bearer immediately.
There were more guards on this occasion. There were always more, each time. Though not one was very much stronger than another. And they all dissolved into a puddle of a sticky, slimy substance when set on fire.
"You take the one with the axe, I'll take the one with the morningstar!" said Skavild. "Always the same black smoke when the skeletons come out! What foul magic is it?"
"I want that ball with spikes on! You take the one with the axe!" The soldier called Aranwen cried.
"Fine." said Skavild, diverting his course up the stairs at the other side of the courtyard. "I bet you don't even know how to use it."
"I'll help you, Da." said Rufus.
"Get out of the way, you damn dunce... I mean, not now, son, Da's busy."
"Second Archivist Eldaline!" called Aranwen. "Please could I have my spiky ball back?"
"No." said Eldaline. "Not standard-issue Thalmor equipment. Which means you're not allowed to carry it but you are allowed to be hit with it. Rufus, hold still, you inane nincompoop."
"Ahh! Ahh! Auntie Eldaline! My leg's stuck in the skeleton. My leg's stuck. In the skeleton. Get it off my leg, get it off my leg."
"Just hold still, there's a good boy. Then we can all explore the exciting tower. Stop hopping, Rufus, son. Rufus, if you keep hopping and screaming Auntie Eldaline is going to use the morningstar to get the skeleton off your leg."
Inside the tower, a gruesome display accosted them.
Skavild said, "Looks like somebody fell right from the top of the staircase. Not a nice way to go. Too much time to think on the way down."
"I can think of worse ways. Depending on the situation, you might be glad to think of what you left behind at the top." said Eldaline. "Flopsy, do you remember the Countess of... Actually, never mind. It was such an unpleasant story."
"Yes, Second Archivist, I do remember, and do you know, I was just thinking of the manor house with the courtyard when we were sadly forced against our will to take that settlement hostage in High Rock."
Once at the top of the tower, a short walk led across the upper courtyard to a door to a small staircase, which went down. 
The stairs led to some rather lavish living quarters.
There were hardly any cobwebs here. "Isn't it warm, Second Archivist?" said Aralina. "Do you think it is warm too?"
"I want to sleep for a while." Eldaline explained. "It is too late to go on."
"And I need a drink." said Rufus. "Auntie Eldaline, Count Spoonface says..."
"I don't want to hear it from him." said Eldaline.
This took the others aback a little. Eldaline always refused to sleep if she was at all unsure about anything.
"But Count Spoonface says it..." said Rufus.
"Yes." said Eldaline. I heard him. It is too late. I am going to sleep."
Eldaline sat in a chair in the bedroom adjoining the office. Rufus continued to be the herald of Count Spoonface.
"Why is he saying those bad things about you, Auntie Eldaline?"
"All of them are deserved. Leave me be, human child. Even you should not be tormented with my company."
"Usually Count Spoonface isn't like this. He likes eating cake and playing soldiers."
"That's a bad game." said Eldaline. And then she fell silent. Rufus found this boring and wandered off to have an argument with the peculiarly belligerent Count.
"I don't know what she's got to be upset about." said the soldier called Aranwen. "What I want to know is, how does Count Spoonface know so much about my father?"
"You should challenge him to a duel, if he is insulting your lineage." said Ondolemar. "That will also teach him to stop saying we are all doomed as mortals."
"I'm not fighting a tiny doll." said Aranwen. "He always told me the Bonefaces hiding in the night to suck me up into their heads if I didn't work on my lightning spells. I'm not a failure."
Ondolemar said, "Who says you are a failure? Count Spoonface?"
"No, my father! Count Spoonface said the Bonefaces being real proves he was right about everything."
"I had never heard of Bonefaces before." said Aralina.
"He's the failure. After all, he's the one who's dead. A lot of good his lightning spells did him in the end. Even the Bonefaces can't get the better of me."
As Eldaline drifted in and out of sleep, the dark clouds gathered around her and she could barely hear the murmured conversations in the next room. Rufus was asking the Count why he was being an arseface. Skavild was trying to make sense of the rate of increase of skeletons.
Now that everybody was gone, Eldaline could disappear into the clouds.
"Stop talking for a moment." said Aralina. "Be quiet. Be quiet! I can scarcely hear for the dark clouds. The dark clouds are everywhere and they won't go away."
There was a blood-curdling scream of dismay from the bedroom.
"Second Archivist!" cried Aralina.
"Rufus! You'd better not have put a frog on her." said Skavild.
To be continued...