The stone and crystal statue poised above the Well, unmoving in all the time Delphe had served Stardeep as a Keeper, suddenly fell free, plunging from the ceiling like a dropped anchor, flashing past the lip, its arms outstretched and its eyes trailing the light of Cynosure's focused consciousness.

From deep in the Well boiled a fount of racing purple fire. A sure sign the containment layer had collapsed, or was on the verge of doing so. The falling construct and rising plane of fire met in an explosion of white light.

Delphe leaped from her control chair, one hand grasping her Cerulean Sign, the other already essaying gestures that opened hidden arcane geometries. With a sick feeling clawing at her gut, she dropped a slab of invisible force flat across the lip of the Well, hoping it would buy Cynosure time to stem the breach below while she dealt with the situation above. How had Telarian and so many others penetrated Stardeep's very heart? Obviously, it was some sort of back door set up by Telarian—one more betrayal of his trust. However, this was not the time to contemplate failed security.

She returned her attention to the interlopers. Of the six or so intruders, many were Knights caught up in the transfer. Some few of these were groaning and blinking, beginning to rise.

"Oh, by the Sign," breathed Delphe as her eyes tracked back to Kiril, Angul blazing in her fists, and across from her Telarian, Nis darkening the chamber with only his presence. Kiril yelled a challenge; Telarian sneered. They were going to fight! In all Stardeep's history, had two Keepers ever come to blows?

Telarian and Kiril crossed swords.

The explosion of noise and light that followed knocked both wielders to the floor with the insensate Knights. Upon touching, the blades recognized the missing portions of the other. They merged, creating a new entity: a union of the soul-forged swords Angul and Nis. The new-minted weapon pulsed with fell energy, far outstripping its shape and mortal origins.

The Keeper of the Outer Bastion regained his feet. Next to him, Kiril raised herself to her knees. When her eyes found the linked weapons, she ceased all action except to stare at Angul-Nis as if entranced. Telarian moved past her, paying the swordswoman not the least bit of concern. Kiril's hands remained passively at her sides—she made no move to stop the diviner.

Delphe called out, "No!" as Telarian grasped for Angul-Nis's hilt.

A winged creature the size of a small dog dived at Telarian from somewhere behind Delphe's left shoulder. It must have arrived in the Throat with Kiril, Telarian, and the Knights. It screeched a strangely musical call and raked Telarian's hands with crystalline claws. The diviner snatched his hands back from the hilt. The tiny opalescent dragon took the opportunity to scratch at Telarian's eyes. He fell back from the hovering dragonet and the dangling blade, swatting and cursing.

The crystal beast belled a tiny cry of triumph as it stooped on the retreating diviner again. Then a thread of black flame extended from Angul-Nis, wavering and winding through the air like a worm in its hole. The dragonet didn't see the thread, so intent was it on Telarian. When the thread touched the tiny flying creature's shoulder, the dragonet squawked, then clattered to the ground, trailing dark smoke as it rolled.

The diviner laughed and advanced once more to stand before the free-hanging sword. Unimpeded, Telarian gripped Angul-Nis's hilt.

His eyes dissolved in night and his hair stood on end, each shaft seeming to project black-tinged fire. Telarian raised Angul-Nis above his head in a gesture of triumph. He began to laugh.

Delphe launched a silver mote trailing white sparks at the diviner, an enchantment of bone-binding. Telarian turned, still laughing, and deflected the spell right back at her on the flat of his blade!

She thrust her Sign amulet forward, intercepting the turned spell in a burst of crimson sparks. She blinked away the afterglow in time to see the diviner charging across the twenty paces that separated them.

Delphe screamed, still holding forth her Cerulean Sign, hoping to ward the diviner away with its potent symbology. If he was the Traitor's cat's-paw, the Sign should—

Telarian swept Angul-Nis through her hand. Color leached suddenly from the world as Delphe saw three fingers and half the Sign spin away from her palm.

Dawning shock replaced her strength, and she fell. Telarian chuckled and moved toward the lip of the Well, holding Angul-Nis high. Delphe tried to chant a spell, call on Cynosure to engage Telarian, or beseech one of the reeling Knights for aid. Desire collapsed to reality, and instead she clutched desperately at her maimed hand with the other, attempting to apply a tourniquet before her life bled out completely. Just a pace away, the light in her severed amulet dimmed and flickered out.

Telarian began to hack at the slab of force choking the Well, his laughter mounting in manic peals.

*   *   *   *   *

When she'd last seen Nangulis, tears rendered the world blurry and uncertain. As she perceived the human form stepping forward, as if out of the shadow of the conjoined blades, tears spilled anew from her wondering eyes, painting her surroundings in foggy striations of white, black, and red. Flashes of apocalyptic light, screams of pain, and a diabolical mirth echoing through the Throat faded from Kiril's perception. The concerns of the corporeal world were gone. She saw only the man to whom she'd once pledged her undying love. He who had just emerged from the conjoined sword.

Did she dream?

The figure turned his head and stammered, "Kiril, is that you? Where are we? I can't remember . . ."

Though her lips didn't move, she replied, joyfully, "Yes! I am here! Waiting for you. I've always waited for you. But after your sacrifice . . ." After his sacrifice, she'd known he was lost forever, a knowledge she drowned in alcohol. A knowledge which was now proved a lie!

Nangulis moved to her. He kneeled and took her hands in his. They were warm and vibrant. He asked, "What sacrifice?"

She squeezed, desperately returning the pressure of his grip. "Does it matter? You've returned to me, against all hope! Your sundered soul has finally been merged . . ." She frowned, briefly recalling the conjoined sword Angul-Nis. Why had Telarian gone to such elaborate trouble to bring the blades together? She doubted he wished merely to liberate Nangulis from the fractured pieces as a gift to her . . . she willfully pushed those thoughts away.

"My soul?" questioned Nangulis. "I recall pain, then nothing. I remember . . . coming to Stardeep. Yes! You were so beautiful in the starshine, so happy. We took up our duties. We served the Sign . . ."

"Remember how we used to laugh each night, after our duties, when we talked about the events of the day together?" asked Kiril, a blushing joy growing in her that she hadn't experienced in more than a decade. She was tempted to forget all else and drown within the moment. Nangulis was returned to her!

"How could I forget?" responded Nangulis. "You were my Bright Star, and I your Far Traveler." Tears streaked Kiril's cheeks as Nangulis recalled the pet names they'd used. They'd given each other the appellations after two lovelorn characters described in Sild?yuir myth. The story recounted the unbreakable bonds between two elder elves parted by events and even centuries, but who found a way to return to each other in the end. Two constellations in Sild?yuir's sky were called by the same names.

Kiril spoke, "You are my Far Traveler yet, Nangulis. You've come farther than I ever imagined—you've come back from death itself to find me."

Nangulis released one of her hands to wipe away another streaking tear from her cheek. "Don't cry, Bright Star."