And as I watched, the Black Dragon, caught up in that unimaginable music, caged, surrounded by music, began to shake. Every separate mote of the creature, every bit of ash and speck of sulphur, every drop of molten stone, quivered in the grip of that sound until, between one breath and another, it gave one last cry that faded upon the instant to a terrible sibilant hiss as it disintegrated. A great cloud of dust rained softly down upon the earth, and it was gone.

All that remained was the music.

I am not sure when the Kantri stopped singing, for to speak sooth that chord has never left my heart, down all the years. I became a struck bell, resonating forever to the truth of it. No matter what else may distract me, what life may throw my way—in my deepest being, that living glory of music rings ever within my soul to remind me of beauty and creation and the fundamental wonder of life.

There was only one distraction, as the sound echoed is the mountains, dancing between hills alive with joy. I would swear that in the silence behind the music, I heard my father Marik's mindvoice one last time. It was less than a whisper in my mind, the merest ghost of a breath.

"Thank you," it said, and disappeared.

And the Kantri, rising in a vast spiral, opened their throats again and began their lament for the dead. I should have realized that they would sing their first farewell to him whose loss they most would feel. The music was solemn, composed of equal parts of sorrow and hope inextricably entwined. It would break your heart even if you knew not for whom they sang. And it was Kedra's voice that led them, with Akor's in the second line.

"May the Winds bear you up, Hadretikantishikrar, Keeper of Souls, Eldest, soulfriend, Father, to where the sun gleams ever warm and bright. May your soul find its rest in the heart of light. May you join your voice to the Great Song of Time, and may those you love, who have flown before, meet you and welcome you into the Star Home, the Wind Home, the Place of All Songs, where all is well, and all is joy, and all is clear at last."

He has found his Yrais again at last, I thought, and bowed my head, and wept.

I watched Vil as he changed. Sweet Shia. I know I urged him to use his full power, but—heaven keep us, it was terrifying. He had dealt with a demon prince, then held Berys at bay and stripped his works from him (I reminded myself to thank Jamie from the bottom of my heart). But now... now he was killing without let or hindrance, and the expression on his face was terrible to behold.

He was in bliss.

I had heard his exchange with the demons and given thanks then for his strength, that wildfire that raged in him—but now— now he was pursuing the demons that fled. He was even stopping those that tried to return to the Hells. It was wrong.

Never mind that they were demons. This was genocide.

Damn.

I strode to his side. "Vilkas!"

He never twitched.

"Vilkas, damn it, man, you have to stop!"

He laughed. Goddess, what a horrible sound.

"Vilkas, you listen to me, you have to stop right now! This isn't right!"

He turned to face me, his eyes blazing that incredible blue, his raven hair blowing in a wind I didn't feel. "Aral, you were right! I should have done this long since! Look, they cannot stand against me!" He gestured again, and another score of demons died screaming.

"They are trying to get away, Vil, you have to stopl"

"Stop? Why should I stop? You were the one who said I needed to let go." Another gesture. More screaming, more death, and the smile on his face was becoming a terrible rictus.

I shook him. "Stop, Vil! Listen to me! You're not killing them to protect anything now, you're killing them for the joy of it!"

"Yes, isn't it wonderful?" He grinned.

I struck him across the face, once, hard. "Vilkas, stop it!"

He turned to face me then, holding me motionless along with all those demons, gazing at me as though he'd never seen me before. The power running through him made my hair stand on end even from two feet away. "Why? Why should I stop? They are demons, they don't deserve to live."

"Vilkas ta-Geryn," I said quietly, "you listen to me. They deserve life as much as we do, as long as they stay in their own world. They're trying to get back there. Let them go."

He looked at me for a moment, considering. "No," he said, dropping me to the ground and turning back to the demons. More screaming.

I raised my power about me, stood directly in front of him, and put my hands on his shoulders. He did not react. Damn it.

I reached up and grabbed his hair, tugging it down hard, forcing him to look at me. He was taken by surprise and actually looked into my eyes. I let go his hair, I barely knew what I said. I would have said anything to stop him.

"By the Lady, Vilkas, I charge you—by the friendship between us, by the power of the Goddess that rages within you, I beg you to stop this slaughter. You are not dreaming this time, Vilkas. This is real. If you kill all the demons you will be the Death of the World in truth. Remember the balance! If all the demons die at your hand, what will come to take their place? Balance in all things, Vil! You have used your power to save us all, the whole world owes you its life. Thus far you are the Sky God, Vil." I seemed to be weeping. "Do not do this. Stop with the Sky God." A mad giggle fought to escape me. "You can be the Death of the World some other time."

There was a faint flicker, I could see it deep inside him. A moment of hesitation, a moment of his real self.

Oh, Hells. Oh, Goddess. I had no choice.

I threw all restraint aside and spoke the words I had sworn I would never say, knowing as I did so what it would do. To both of us.

I conjure you, by Mother Shia, by all we have been to each other, by every moment of friendship—oh, Vilkas—oh, Hells—" I had to push so hard to say the words aloud that I practically shouted it. "I love you, Vilkas ta-Geryn. I love you with all my heart and soul, I always will. And now, here, this moment, by the endless love I bear you that you cannot return, by that pain I must bear every day of my life for love of you, I require you. Stop this. Now."

It was like stabbing him with so many daggers. I watched him wince, watched his mind reappear in his eyes. Watched as that unutterable joy drained out of him and left him desolate.

He turned to the demons and growled, "Return to the Hells that spawned you or die the True Death." He gestured them free, and in the instant every single one disappeared back to their own rightful place.

He turned back to me. Oh, Hells, here it comes, and I bloody deserve it...

"1 do not love you. I have never loved you and you know it, but it's not my fault." He shuddered. "Damn you. You had no right to do that. How could you throw that in my face? I trusted you, Aral!"

He came right close to me, he took my chin in his hand, his face a thundercloud. Goddess, what is he doing? I wondered, even as a stupid, traitor part of me that had nothing to do with my mind prayed that he was about to kiss me.

Far from it. He was returning the favour. He forced me to look at his eyes, and as both of us were still in the depths of our healing power, I saw him.

No. No, you don't understand. I saw him. We merged as we always did when we were working together, and I felt it: felt for an instant that incredible delight, that transcendent bliss that had been his for so fleeting a moment, felt it tear through me like a hundred swords, so sharp was the joy—and then I felt it stop. Ten thousand swords, ail poisoned, ripping me apart. Ten thousand thousand demons wrenching me from that pinnacle and throwing me down, twisted and broken, mourning, into a dark pit.