First she had nagged at me, nagged for more than a year, that I should let go the strong restraints I had placed around my power, and the instant I do so she loses her nerve and...

Vilkas, you idiot, you know she was right.

She had no right to say that!

No, that's true, but she had to shock you. You were too far gone to hear anything eke.

She abused our friendship. She used emotional blackmail!

Yes. But no one eke could get through to you at all. She was the only one who cared enough to try.

Cared enough to betray my trust?

And a deeper voice, a wiser voice from my secret heart, said, She cared enough to rip her own heart out and throw it at your feet, man. To stop you from destroying yourself and half the world with you. I'd call that true friendship.

"She stopped me!" I cried aloud, as though I could win this internal argument by sheer volume. "I was free for the first time in my life, I was happy, and she stopped me!" I clutched at my heart even as I walked. "I was in paradise. I will never know that bliss again. She took it from me."

She saved your life.

I would rather have died!

And would you rather have taken every last demon soul with you?

Yes!

That's why she stopped you.

I trudged on, stubbornly ignoring the fact that I'd lost the argument with my own conscience, when a vaguely familiar dragon landed a little way in front of me. It let off a human passenger and left. Anger swept through me. I didn't care who it was, I was spoiling for a fight.

It was Lanen.

She waited for me to come to her. Truth to tell, she didn't look very well.

I didn't care.

"Mage Vilkas," she began. 'There are many yet who..."

"I'm only human, Mistress Lanen," I growled, sounding petulant even to myself. "I'm too tired to help anyone else tonight."

"There are many who wish to express their gratitude to you," she said evenly. "You have done a great work this day."

I said nothing but plodded on. The ground was heavy going just there.

'There is a greater work yet that awaits you," she said, striding by my side. The woman was a fool. Hadn't I just told her?

"I am exhausted, Lanen, didn't you hear me?' I snarled at her.

"Pah! Don't be stupid. You and Aral have quarrelled and you're angry at her. Fine, be angry, be bloody furious, I don't give a damn. But there are Kantri out there in mortal agony. I can do nothing to help them. You can."

I kept walking, but my anger was rising.

She hurried around and stood before me. I started to go around her and she reached out and stopped me by the simple expedient of planting her hands on my shoulders.

"Don't touch me," I said haughtily.

"Why not?" she asked, not moving.

"Because I said not to," I replied, trying to throw her off. Damn, she was strong. I couldn't shift her, which of course made me angrier.

"Vilkas, you must listen," she said, but I had come to the end of my tether.

"I don't have to listen to anyone!" I cried. I summoned my power and threw her off easily. She staggered back and landed with a thump. "You have no idea what I have suffered this day," I hissed at her. "I have been threatened by every demon in every Hell there is. I have saved Aral twice, by Mother Shia I have saved every living soul in the world this day, and for thanks the only person I have ever trusted betrays me. I am sick unto death of helping people. I don't care if the Kantri rot."

I should have left then, I wanted to walk off and leave her there, but there was something about the woman that made me wait. Or something within me that knew she spoke truth, and stayed to hear it.

"Vilkas, you live," she said, rising to her feet. She walked towards me slowly, her hands outstretched to me in supplication this time, her honest face full of heartfelt pain. "Hundreds of them do not. Hundreds of them have died—O Shikrar—" She bowed her head for a moment, then looked full into my eyes. "Vilkas, their numbers were dwindling before. This may be their ending as a people. I beg you, of your mercy—surely there has been enough of death this day. You have been given power beyond measure. Use it to heal. They are in such terrible pain." She went down on one knee before me. "Please. I beg you."

It is a way to atone, my conscience said. Traitor that it was, siding with her. You have done a terrible thing. It is a way to redeem yourself.

I sighed. "Damn." I looked at Lanen out of the corner of my eye. "You sure you're not a Mage? I had no intention of helping you."

"I was tested years ago," she said, grinning up at me. She was nearly pretty when she smiled like that. "Not a trace of power anywhere."

"Oh, get up," I said, giving her a hand and helping her back to her feet. "Very well. Where shall I start?"

"A moment," she said. Her gaze lost focus. I was beginning to recognise that as an indication that she was using Farspeech.

"Idai comes," she said, even as Idai landed heavily a hundred paces away. She hurried to meet us, despite her injuries. I could not help myself, my power rose up in the face of pain, and I reached out to heal.

Nothing happened.

I tapped into that fire within, now banked a little, but there when I needed it. Nothing.

I poured my strength into her like a river, even a creature her size should have been restored from head to foot with that much assistance. I would have done better with a roll of bandages.

"Damn it," I muttered. "I can't do it."

"Are you well, Mage Vilkas?" asked Idai. She was concerned for me. I was beginning to feel a little ashamed.

'Your pardon, Lady, I can do nothing for you by myself," I admitted. It galled me, but I couldn't get away from the truth. Damn, blast and damn. "I need Aral."

Truespeech is an astounding thing. In moments Gyrentikh was aloft—I think it was he—and a very short while after, he landed by the lake with Aral.

She walked towards me tentatively, as though she trod barefoot on broken glass. When she came near enough in the failing light, I could see that her eyes were still red and swollen. She must have been weeping again.

Or still. You are not the only one who has lost something beyond measure this day.

She could not look at me. Aral, who had soundly berated me any number of times for any number of reasons, whose cheerful abuse had kept me from getting too full of myself for two years, could not raise her eyes to meet my glance.

"Have you treated yourself for shock yet, woman?" I asked, aiming for the tone of banter we had been used to use. It sounded brittle and angry. Ah, well.

"Didn't bloody well do any good," she replied. I could tell from her breathing that she was holding back tears. She knew I hated seeing women cry.

I have always enjoyed surprising Aral. I stepped up to her, took her by the shoulders, and kissed her forehead. "Vilkas, don't," she began, but I immediately let her go. She stared at me, uncomprehending.

"Now is not the time, Aral," I said gently. "We can address other things later. You were right. I was right. We were both very, very wrong. Come on. There is an awful lot of suffering going on that we can stop. I can't do it without you."

She nodded. We both turned to Idai, and Aral drew out the soulgem of Loriakeris. This time, though, she said quiedy aloud, "Lady Loriakeris, will it please you to assist us?"

For answer the soulgem blazed once, briefly, in the darkness. Aral turned to me and grinned. I'll take that as a 'yes'," she said. Holding the soulgem in one hand, calling her Healer's strength to her, she gingerly placed her other hand in mine. I gathered my Power about me, allowing the stream of that inner fire to fill me, grasped Aral's hand firmly, and sent the focus through the soulgem.