"Now," Cewri said, his sword returned to its scabbard, "we figure out what happened to Celeste.  And we fix it."  He knelt down next to her, taking in what had become of his friend.  "I think I mentioned this, but I may not have—you know how I get before a fight, even one like this..." He shook his head.  "Anyways, when we were struggling in the cottage, before she started..." A pause, "...spitting up blood, a symbol of some sort appeared on her neck.  It might tell us more about what the hell happened to her."  Gently, Cewri moved her head—and body if necessary—to find the place on her neck where he had seen the presumably vile icon.