“There’s been some miscommunication,” said Professor Fossil apologetically. “We suspended access to the dig site –”

“My former home, Professor,” insisted Rockhoof.

“…to your home, sorry, yesterday. We must’ve received the incorr–”

“I have a geas! A warrior of the Mighty Helm, once placed under a geas, will yield against nothing.”

Sadly, Fossil knew this; she specialized in his time period. She hurried aside.

Rockhoof placed the cake on the earth, bowing his head. “The 1,038^th year since the birth of Swordbeater. Dutiful father. Proud blacksmith. A great friend.”

Fossil knew better than to interrupt. Now Rockhoof would follow the ancient ceremon–

“Thank you for your time,” he said.

Surprised, she coughed. “I’m sure we could spare you more?”

“I’ll return again for the others. Besides, the dead should not impose too much on the living.”

She smiled warmly. “Please stay. As archaeology professor, I’ll be the judge of that…”