The auror emitted a noise that was midway between an ugh and a moan, but she remained with the bulk of the group—the sane bulk of the group. The readhead was prevented from muttering something uncomplimentary, however, when the fog rose to block their missing companions from view entirely, and instead what came out was an entirely audible, “Shit.”

(If anyone took offence to her unladylike speech, they could bring it up after surviving this ordeal).

She almost repeated the expletive when what appeared to be a damned corpse emerged from the fog. Instinctively, Maeve took a step back away from it, looking to Sterling for the first time with fear in her eyes. Then it spoke, and a talking corpse proved to be even more unsettling than a moving corpse, and the big (figuratively), brave auror found herself wishing very, very much that she had stayed home.

“Her and him,” she answered tentatively, voice wavering ever so slightly.