Shikrar's mind began to relax, as the pain left him and he realised that his time was come. "Kedra, my son," he said, his mind-voice soft but clear.

"I am here, my father," said Kedra calmly. "Be at ease."

"Farewell, my dearest son. The Winds blow ever kindly on you and those you love."

Kedra's eyes never left his fathers. His strength humbled me. "I love you, my father," he replied, his mindvoice calm and clear. "Rest upon the Winds, and know that you will live always in our memory, Hadretikantishikrar."

I breathed again. It was well that the last time Shikrar heard his true name, it was spoken with love. I was grateful that he could not see any longer, for the great hissing tears wrung in agony from Kedra's eyes would break a heart of stone.

"AkhorP Idai?" Shikrar called weakly. We who had known him longest, through all the years.

"Here, my friend," I replied quietly, and "Here, Shikrar," she said. I knew that oceans of grief awaited me, a thousand years deep and broad as all time yawning to swallow me up, but as yet I stood on the shore.

"Fight on," he said, and died.

I could not speak aloud, so in truespeech I sang, "Sleep on the Winds, Hadretikantishikrar," honouring him with his true name as he passed from us. Leaning forward, my hands on his faceplate, I closed my eyes and gendy went to touch his soulgem with my own one last time, in token of the depth of our lifelong friendship.

To my horror I felt his soulgem move under mine. My eyes snapped open, my bones turned to water, and I saw the brilliant ruby fall to the earth. I could not stop the movement I had begun, and my own soulgem touched the place where Shikrar's had been.

And I fell, and fell, and fell forever.

That happened which could not happen.

I saw Varien lean forward to touch Shikrar's soulgem, saw Shikrar's red gem come loose and fall to earth, saw bright emerald touch the hollow where it had lain—and saw Varien fall into Shikrar's body, as a man falls into a grave, and be swallowed up. The great body that lay before us shuddered along its length, once, then lay still.

What in the name of all heaven was happening?

"Varien!" I screamed idiotically, turning my back on Berys. "Goddess! Varien! Varien!"

Then the green soulgem, resting in the hollow where a soulgem should be, began to glow. From a tiny gleam in the depths, as a light rising through deep water, it brightened and flowed until it filled all the space in Shikrar's faceplate. The light grew brighter yet, green as clear emerald, green as leaves in deep summer, bathing all that vast body in its radiance. The dark bronze of Shikrar's face did not look so dark as it had. Under the green light, just around the blazing soulgem, it seemed much lighter—almost—

Silver.

I laboured to breathe as I watched, for miracles, good or ill, are not easy to bear. Starting from the slight silver stain around his soulgem, the dark bronze of Shikrar's hide was washed in a coating of silver, sweeping ever more swiftly from nose to tail. Where the green and silver touched the great wounds Shikrar had borne, light flared as flesh and blood and bone were healed. The terrible broken wings blazed green and silver and were made whole. The neck bone came to its right place with a snap very little less terrible than that which had broken it.

It all took little more than the blink of an eye, and when all was done—Akor lay before us, but not Akor. He was the size of Shikrar, and all his body glowed yet fire-bright with emerald radiance.

Then he opened his eyes.

I woke as from a long sleep, instantly aware, myself again after some dream of another life. I stood and stumbled, as one who has not moved for some time. I flexed my wings, glad to find that they were not as stiff as I had feared. Only then did I look about me.

My beloved Lanen stood staring up at me, her eyes huge, her mouth slack. She—she looked terrified. Astounded.

Desolate.

"Akhor?" said a voice, quietly, behind me. I turned to see Idai gazing up at me, her eyes like Lanen's full of fear and wonder.

Wait—Idai gazing up?

I reared onto my back legs and stared down at Idai, and far, far down at my own Lanen. Her lips moved, but it was not the voice of the body I heard. It was the voice of her mind, soft and dry as death, in motionless agony, and so terribly alone.

"Akor. You are Kordeshkistriakor once more. Sweet Shia, no!"

And then she cried out in her desolation, a scream of pain torn from her as though her heart had been wrenched from her breast. She fell to her knees and hid her face from me.

We were parted once more, as I had never thought to be parted from her again in life. Parted forever.

Sorrow fell before fury.

I never wanted this.

Wrath rose in me then, fire unquenchable, and I looked up to where the battle raged. I did not try to understand. There was no time to mourn Shikrar, to mourn anything. With a heart blazing with death and fury, I leapt into the sky and trumpeted a challenge to the Black Dragon, not nearly so huge now as it had seemed. I flew twice as fast as ever I had flown before, I flew as one gone mad, and I felt light as a birds feather. I swear the Winds blew solely to bear me up.

I dragged myself out of that damned lake once more to find that Ur-kathon was no more. The sun had turned blue, it seemed, and come to rest on that hilltop. For the moment, the girl was beyond my reach. Still, I-Demonlord had faced any number of Mages in my day. Eventually they grew weary, as I would not in the body of this golem of fire and ash. The largest of the Kantri, the big bronze one, lay dead on that hilltop as well, which gave me joy. I rose with a great leap into the sky and began pursuing the others, one by one. The big one had been a lesson in flight; the smaller ones were good, but they were not the match of their dead leader. I danced on the air and destroyed some thirty or forty, one after the other, glancing back to that hilltop after each one died, waiting for that Mage s glow to die down, or at least to withdraw from the figure of the girl.

There! He was busy with something else—of course! Berys! Excellent! I wished that Mage all success, as I dove straight as an arrow for the key to my death/my daughter/Lanen, who stood now unprotected and unaware. I drew breath and sent a lance of flame to scorch her to bare earth—and a wind blew up from nowhere. The molten stone of my fire was blown back at me, I was thrown nearly onto my back by the fierce wind. Recovering, I stared in amazement.

Their leader was dead, the big bronze one. I'd seen it lying still as stone with a broken neck—but here it was rising before me, glowing green and shining silver.

I-Marik remember. It's that damned great dragon that came through the wall, I thought it was dead what is it doing here alive again no it's coming for me!

I-Demonlord fight to retain control of this body. I-Marik is taken with soul-deep panic, for a moment I-Marik am in control and I fly as fast as I can away from the creature.

But I-Demonlord look deeper into my other half and find the hatred below the fear. I fan it, I encourage him to remember what has been done to him and what this body can do to the beast. I-Marik slow, thinking, and when I-Demonlord show him an image of the silver one dead I-Marik peel away right and return the way I came. I-Marik gladly let my other self take control.

The silver one sees us coming and takes fright, turns to escape.

We pursue with a light heart.