"Carina," Tris hissed at the tent flap. He knew that his voice shook, and not entirely from the cold as he stood outside the healer's tent. "Carina!" he rasped, barely above a whisper.

Carina pushed back the tent flap groggily. She pulled a blanket closer around her against the chill, and rubbed her eyes. "Tris, what's wrong? It's the middle of the night."

"I need your help," Tris said, managing as steady a voice as he could. "Please, I can't wait for morning."

Nodding, Carina stepped aside and gestured for Tris to follow. She lit two candles and motioned him to sit. "You look awful."

"I haven't slept for days," Tris confessed. "Every time I drift off, the dreams come back, and I can't block them out."

"What dreams?" Carina asked, wide awake and alert as she settled into her healer's role.

Tris looked away. "My family was murdered," he said softly, swallowing hard. "I... I've tried to call their ghosts," he admitted. "I can't reach them. I can feel them out there, far away, but it's like they're behind a wall, and they want to come, but they can't. Something's holding them back, keeping them prisoner," he finished lamely.

"I keep dreaming about Kait," he added, in a voice just above a whisper. "My sister. She's frightened, she's calling me, and I can't go to her and I can't call her to me. All I can see is her face, pressed against a barrier, calling my name," he said with a shudder, and closed his eyes.

Carina laid a hand on his arm. "Nothing I taught you helps at all?" she asked gently. They had managed to steal a few hours over the last week to help Tris work on shielding, teaching him how to keep from being overwhelmed by the spirits he sensed around him.

Tris shook his head. "Not with the dreams. It keeps the other spirits further away, but it doesn't work with the dreams. I've tried. I've tried everything. Night before last, I even sat up drinking with Soterius and Vahanian until I was sick. Even that didn't help," he said miserably. "I couldn't stop seeing her face." He looked up and met Carina's eyes, feeling they could see right through him. "I let her down once, Carina, when I didn't save her life. I can't let her down again. I swore to her I would come for her, wherever she is, but I can't get through."

Carina chewed on the end of a lock of her hair as she reflected, all traces of sleep gone. "Let's try what I taught you again," she said, and held up a hand to stay his argument. "I need to see what's happening." Her eyes softened and she put a hand on his arm. "There's got to be a way to stop the dreams, Tris," she said earnestly. "I'll help you find it."

Tris held her gaze. "I won't let her down, Carina," he repeated. "And I'm afraid if we stop the dreams, I'll lose the link I have. Can we," he paused, searching for words, "blunt it, like we did with the way I sense the ghosts, so I can pay attention or not, instead of wiping it out completely?"

Carina sat back and regarded him for a moment. "I'm a healer," she said finally, "not a mage. We need Alyzza," she decided. "Wait here." After several minutes, she returned with the crone seer in tow. Alyzza looked no more disheveled for it being the middle of the night than she appeared during the day.

"Bad dreams, m'lad?" she croaked, settling down cross-legged beside him with surprising agility.

Tris nodded. Alyzza took Carina's hand to draw the healer down with them. "Trust an old mad woman to help, do you?" she chuckled. "You must have very bad dreams." She settled into her seat. "Let's see what we can do."

Patiently, Carina and Alyzza led Tris through the basic wardings and the pathworkings. They watched as he raised the mental barriers-shields, Alyzza called them—that blocked out unwanted thoughts and intrusions. With his wardings and shields in place, Alyzza tested Tris, attempting to break through. Time and time again, he held her at bay while Carina stretched out her healer's awareness to sense the energies and stress within his body.

It was almost dawn when Tris sat back in frustration. "It's not your fault," he said. "I don't think we're getting anywhere. I'm doing everything you've taught me. It's not enough."

"What if you tried to sleep here, where we can watch over you," Carina suggested. "Maybe your shields are holding when you're awake, and you're not able to keep them in place when you sleep."

Tris shook his head in frustration. "It's nearly morning. There'll be no sleeping once the camp is awake. Maybe I just imagined it."

"No," Alyzza rasped. "It was no accident, nor imagining either. There is power in you, great power."

"If there's so much power," Tris snapped exas-peratedly, "where is it when I need it?"

"At your fingertips, as you have seen," the old hag replied, nonplussed by his tone. "But it is wild, and so far, it has controlled you. You must learn to control it."

Tris sat back on the rug and ran his hands through his hair. "I don't understand," he said tiredly. "If it comes when I need it, when I'm in danger, isn't that enough?"

Alyzza shook her head. "The more you use your power, the more power flows through you. Power will not be denied. Every mage fights a constant battle to keep his power from controlling him."

"And the dark mages?" Tris asked, staring at the circle of candles on the tent floor.

"The dark mages live an illusion," Alyzza replied. "Consumed by their own power, they believe themselves in control. But they are just the servants of a greater Darkness."

"I'm ready to try again," Tris sighed, sitting up on his knees.

"Focus your thoughts," Carina coached. "See the fire, see the candles burst into light, feel it come from yourself," she said softly as Tris closed his eyes and stretched out his hand.

In his mind's eye, Tris saw the candles, sensed the current of power within himself. Unbidden, he saw Kait's face from the dream, heard her cry out for him, sensed her pain. He felt the power surge and opened his eyes as fire leaped from his outstretched hand, lighting not just the first of the ring of candles, but roaring along the circle until all had burst into flame, nearly consumed. Carina gave a sharp cry and scrambled out of the way, but the crone leapt forward, forcing Tris's hand down.

Shaking, Tris looked first to Alyzza and then to Carina. "What happened?" he asked, staring wide-eyed at the flickering candles. "I was trying so hard, and getting nowhere," he said softly, "and then I thought about Kait, and I felt something so strong flood through me..."

"The dark magic," the crone rasped. "Easy and strong, and more addictive than dreamweed. Your anger called it."

"If it could be harnessed, controlled—"

"It can never be controlled!" Alyzza cried. "Every instant that you draw upon the dark magic places your soul in peril. Even the greatest mages have felt its seduction. There has been no mage so great as the Obsidian King," the crone continued, her voice falling to a whisper, "and even he could not control the darkness. It consumed him, and made him its slave."

"You mean the Obsidian King was once a Light mage?" Tris asked, staring at his hands as if they held a bloodied sword.

"Long ago, yes," the crone replied. "Some say he was possessed by the spirit of an evil one stronger than himself. So believed the greatest mage, Bava K'aa. Others believe he thought that the dark power could be harnessed for good, bent to his will, washed clean. If so, he was wrong. It bent him, over the years, and dulled his mind, so that he could not see the change in himself. Even Bava K'aa could not persuade him to give it up," she went on, and seemed not to notice when Tris started at the mention of his grandmother. "That is how a good man became the greatest evil our world has seen."

Tris felt himself shaking, still staring at his hands. "I was thinking about my family," he said softly, "how they died. And the one who killed them... bringing him to justice."