"We caught him one night," Krythkal continued, his mental voice laced with pain. "I confronted him, begged him to tell us why he had so betrayed our trust. I thought I could reason with him, but by then, he was too far gone in his zealotry. Anything that advanced the dark templar cause, he claimed, was worth doing. No matter whom it harmed, no matter the cost, even to our own people. We would have our vengeance on the protoss who had banished us, and he would be the weapon of their downfall."

He lifted his eyes to Zeratul and Jake. "I barely recognized him then, as he stood here raging. I could see no trace of the scholar, the bright youth I had been so proud of. All that was left was burning anger and hatred, and a firm conviction that however abominable the means, the end—revenge on the protoss of Aiur —was worth it. We begged him to tell us what he had discovered, but he refused. We implored him to let us erase what he had learned, so that he could again return to us as an alysaar, one who tends the knowledge but does not abuse it. Again, he refused. He left us that night, seething with rage and a hatred that was at once so dark and so pure as to astound the mind. I did not think to see or hear from him again. To discoverthat he used the Alys'aril—to become this.. .this monstrous entity..."

Krythkal was overcome and quickly shuttered his thoughts. Zeratul reached out a hand and laid it on the old protoss's shoulder. "Your remorse is understandable, but no one could have foreseen this. Do not overburden yourself with guilt. What is done is done. That Ulrezaj chose to steal knowledge for such reasons was his own decision."

The elderly alysaar'vah nodded, but it was clear that he did not quite believe Zeratul. "You speak wisdom, yet the doing is not so easy. But I will do what I can to make amends. You are aware, Jacob and Zamara, that I cannot guarantee a positive outcome."

"We know," Zamara said.

"But we have to try," Jake added.

"I think you must, and all the skills we have are offered to you. I understand you have a crystal from the chambers beneath Aiur, where the Wanderers from Afar kept knowledge of their own, safe and secret."

Jake nodded and fished in his pocket for the fragment of the crystal. Krythkal suddenly froze, his head cocked, listening. "Excuse me," he said. "I will be right back. There is some kind of commotion—"

He strode down the long stone hallway. Zeratul and Jake exchanged glances. They did not even need to touch thoughts to realize they were both thinking the same thing, and as one, turned and followed their host. Despite his age, Krythkal, like every protoss Jake had yet seen, could move very quickly when he so chose, and Jake had to break into a lope to keep up with him and Zeratul.

Several alysaar were hastening to them, their robes fluttering, every line in their bodies speaking of their agitation. A silent conversation that was clearly of great importance went on, and Jake chafed at being left out of it.

I, too, am not being included, Zamara said.

"Zeratul?" Jake asked, because clearly the dark templar prelate was part of the conversation. Zeratul's gaze was fastened on Krythkal and he did not respond away. All at once he hunched his shoulders and hallclosed his eyes. Jake frowned slightly—why was Zeratul laughing? And then Zamara was laughing too, and in the silent chambers of this ancient temple a strong, assertive, and quite definitely female voice rang out:

"I don't care if he's in a meeting, I don't care if I don't have clearance, and I really don't care if I step on your strange-shaped protoss toes. You're going to take me to him right now or else I'll—"

"Rosemary!" Jake cried, delight filling him and chasing away for the moment even the lingering throbbing ache in his temples. He pushed through the little throng, straining to see past the tall bodies of the protoss acolytes blocking his view. Down there, a group of alysaar clustered around several newcomers, including a tall, strangely-clad dark templar and a female templar in glittering gold and blue armor. And in the center, as they milled about, he caught just a glimpse of a sleek black head.

She, too, pushed her way through and they hurried toward each other. He slowed and stopped, and so did she. They stared at each other for a moment. Jake wanted to hug her, and he thought maybe she wanted that too, but just as he stepped forward she shoved her hands in her back pockets and grinned up at him.

"About time you got here," Jake said softly. He drank her in—the short, glossy black hair, the large blue eyes, the Cupid's bow mouth, the petite but, God help him, gorgeous figure that was snugly wrapped in formfitting leather.

"Yeah," she said. "When this is all over, remind me to never, ever get caught up in protoss red tape again."

Jake's smile broadened. He realized with a hitch in his chest that he hadn't honestly thought he'd ever see her again. He couldn't help it. He closed the short but enormous gap between them, and swept Rosemary Dahl, assassin, traitor, drug addict, trusted ally, and holder of his heart, into his arms and embraced her tightly.

And to his astonishment and delight, she didn't resist.

AFTER NOT NEARLY LONG ENOUGH, ROSEMARY drew back. Jake released her at once, feeling his face grow hot, and distracted himself by regarding the newcomers.

"Jacob Jefferson Ramsey," the dark templar said in a voice that was as dry as the strips of fabrics with which he had chosen to wrap himself. "Your journey has brought you here to the Alys'aril, the holiest of holies among my people. I am sure you and Zamara are properly grateful. I am Mohandar, and I, Selendis, Razturul, and Vartanil have accompanied Rosemary Dahl on her journey to locate you and the preserver who has chosen you for her host. I thought to arrive before you, but clearly, Zeratul is a step ahead of me."

Zeratul smiled slightly and inclined his head. "It is not I, but Zamara who is a step ahead of all of us, my old friend. She sought me out. She and Jacob have roused me from my lethargy. We only arrived ourselves a short time ago."

"Indeed?" Something flickered in the depths of Mohandar's eyes. He turned to Jake. "I have been informed that you possess knowledge vital to the safety of our people, preserver. It is because of that information that I have revealed this site to Selendis and the other Aiur protoss. I hope I did not give that secret away too lightly."

Jake's legs trembled. They started to buckle as the headache hit. He hissed at the sharp pain, reaching out and grasping Zeratul's arm for support. Selendis's eyes narrowed; she hadn't missed the gesture.

"You spoke truly," Selendis said. Her mental voice was strong and yet soothing, definitely female but one used to command. It reminded him of Rosemary's. She read the thought and he sensed she didn't like the comparison, but she continued on. "The host is unwell. Have you determined whether or not you can successfully transfer Zamara's essence before it is too late?"

"The host has a name," Rosemary growled.

"Indeed he does," said Zamara, and her possessiveness and care for Jake couldn't be mistaken. "He is Jacob Jefferson Ramsey, and regardless of the outcome today, his name should be remembered by all protoss—not just preservers. He has sacrificed much in the bearing of me. We must hurry. I have no wish to see him suffer a moment more than is necessary."

"I agree. And I will take my leave of you now, so that you may attend to this."

Jake stared up at Zeratul. "You're leaving?"

Zeratul nodded. His eyes were kind. "I must. My lingering here will help nothing—I cannot be part of this transference. If it fails, I cannot help; if it succeeds, I cannot better that outcome."