[Envinyatar]

The pain his brother reeled under wrenched Orëmir from Lindir’s mind. He sat up with a gasp, looking wildly about him, half disoriented. He and Lindir were sprawled on the grassy sward above the cliff which held the grotto. Near them stood Lómwë. He seemed despondent and distraught, all at the same time.

Orëmir lurched to his feet, grabbing onto Lómwë’s arm as he did so. ‘Take care of Lindir. Keep him safe,’ he rasped. ‘I’m going down to fetch Endamir.’ He grasped the front of Lómwë’s tunic. ‘I’m going to need your help. I can get myself down there, but when I call out to you, you’ll need to haul us both up as quick as you can.’

~*~

The wooden bucket bumped down the side of the cliff much as it had when Orëmir and Lindir had first gone down. He peeked over the side of the container as it descended. On the lip of the grotto he could see Endamir, lying dangerously close to the edge. Strewn across the ledge were skulls and bones. In the dark whirlwind that played about his brother’s form, the bones shifted and moved, many of them rolling off the edge and into the sea below.

Orëmir closed his mind fast to the Diviner’s intrusion as he dragged his brother’s form to the wooden bucket. ‘Leave us be, foul wight!’ he growled as the stinging wind lashed at him. Behind him he could hear even more of the river of bones tumbling over one another and down into the waters. The whole of them seemed to rumble loudly as the bones echoed in the inner chambers.

‘Lómwë!’ Endamir called loudly, clinging to his brother’s limp form. ‘Bring us up! Quickly!’

The awful touch of the Diviner’s mind withdrew as it seemed another force now fought against him . . .