Arvin turned to Nicco. “Isn’t there anything we can do for him? There must be some way to reverse the effects of the potion, some healing prayer you could try.”

Nicco’s earring tinkled as he shook his head. “I’ve tried everything. Your friend is beyond help. Hoar grant that, one day, you’ll find a way to avenge him. There is only one thing, now, to be done.”

Arvin forced himself to stop pacing, to turn and look at Naulg. The rogue was barely recognizable. His body was emaciated and his skin was a yellowish green, like that of a plague victim. The last of his hair had fallen out and his distinctive eyebrows were gone. His eyes-which only days ago had still held a spark of sanity-were the eyes of a madman. Sensing that Arvin was looking at him, Naulg bared his teeth in an angry hiss. Venom dripped from his incisors.

Arvin squatted on the floor beside him. “Naulg,” he said, touching the rogue’s shoulder. “I’m sorry. If only I’d been less concerned with saving myself…”

Swift as a snake, Naulg twisted his body and snapped at Arvin’s hand. Arvin jerked it away just in time to avoid the bite. Rising to his feet, he stared down at the creature Naulg had become. Once, this had been a friend. Now, it was nothing but a monster-a dangerous one.

Why, then, were Arvin’s eyes stinging?

“Do it,” he croaked, turning away.

Nicco nodded. Quickly-perhaps wanting to complete the act before Arvin changed his mind-he chanted a prayer. Arvin heard a rustle of clothing as Nicco bent over Naulg and touched him. There was a choked gasp-then silence.

A tear trickled down Arvin’s cheek. He felt Nicco’s hand gently touch his shoulder.

“Will you avenge him?” the cleric asked.

Arvin shrugged the hand from his shoulder and angrily wiped the tear from his cheek. “There’s no one left to take vengeance on,” he said. “The Pox will have consumed the holy water by now; I doubt if any of them are still alive. Osran, too, is dead.”

“You’re forgetting Sibyl.”

Arvin turned to face Nicco. “We know nothing about her,” he said. “Where she is, who she is…What if she’s an avatar, as she claims?”

Nicco’s eyes blazed with grim determination. “Even avatars may be defeated,” he said. He placed a hand on Arvin’s shoulder. “You’ve proved your worth to Gonthril. And Chorl-may Hoar weigh his soul well-is no longer here to oppose you. It’s time for you to take a stand, to join us. Throw in your lot with the Secession.” His eyes softened as he smiled. “It wouldn’t be the first time a member of the Guild had secretly joined our ranks.”

Arvin sighed. The offer was tempting. The Secession just might be his way out of the Guild. But old habits died hard.

“I’m sorry,” he told Nicco. “I prefer to work alone. And I need time to hone my talent.”

Nicco nodded, dropping his hand. “Hoar be with you, then.” He turned and left.

Arvin stared at the door for a long time after it closed. Then he turned to the body of his friend. At least he could give Naulg a proper cremation-something the rogue wouldn’t have had if he’d died back in the sewers-or if he’d starved to death in the locked room of the crematorium, where the Pox had left him. Arvin spoke the command word and the stone binding Naulg’s wrists turned back into twine. Arvin knelt and gently unwound it from Naulg’s wrists.

Slowly coiling it, he paused. Maybe, he decided, Nicco was right.

“I’ll make Sibyl pay for what she did to you, Naulg,” Arvin promised. “If the gods grant me the chance, I’ll avenge you.”

Somewhere out over the Vilhon Reach, thunder rumbled.