By the time I returned to the men, Ravencrom had stripped down to his close fitting leather padding and without the bulky metal armor obscuring his body I could see a cat-like grace in his movements. He reminded me of night elf druids who could effortlessly flow from animal forms to their birth shape and back again.

"No plate is going to make this an interesting fight," Ravencrom said as he strapped his two handed sword to his back. "Hope I can remember my Uncle Jory's dirty tricks lessons."

"Dirty tricks," I repeated thoughtfully. "That's …" I gasped softly as the clues fell into place. "Ravencrom. Your uncle is Lord Jorach Ravenholdt of the Assassins League?"

The lieutenant smiled and shrugged. "You don't get to choose your parents." He gathered up his discarded armor and took it back to where I had hidden the horses.

"I've been thinking about that heal you cast on Anatoly; how it hurt him," he said when he rejoined us. "At my signal I want you to use a holy strike spell against Arugal. We will have to throw everything we can at him."

My instant reaction to that suggestion was to flatly refuse to do it. No matter that it went against how I was taught to use the Light, but to use it to harm others would be another step towards the corrupting side of magic.

"I don't think that's how the Light is meant to be used." At his frown, I explained, "I've had little practice with that spell and I've never used any of my abilities to hurt others. It does take some time to gather the power for the spell – precious time when I won't be able to heal you or Thom."

"We'll do fine," Ravencrom said. "Whatever the fight, it's all in the timing." He leaned closer and took me by the wrist. "I trust you."

I looked down into his blue eyes and wondered what had I done to earn that trust. The warmth of his hand on my skin bemused me and I found myself unwilling to shrug it off. Then his easy smile began to fade as the intensity of his gaze deepened. I felt walls closing around me; I was trapped. A spasm of regret flashed across his face as he released me and turned away. He beckoned to Thom and after a moment I followed them into the cold, dark water.

On the far side of the island the cliff rose almost straight up out of the water. In the darkness even I couldn't see any protruding rocks or ledges we could use to help us climb it. The lieutenant ran his hand over the cliff face as high as he could reach and a few clods of dirt fell into the water, the sounds quickly lost in the waves' foam.

"At least it's not sand," he whispered. "Trick will be to cut handholds before we freeze to death. Got a dagger on you, Aengeal?"

"It's not very sharp," I said just as quietly as I handed the blade over to him.

"I would be suspicious of a healer who had a sharp weapon," he said. "Stelward, start your handholds a little further down from mine. Kick in the holes as you go. That'll either strengthen them or show their weaknesses."

We slowly made our way up the cliff face. I could see why Ravencrom had Thom cut his own course. If one grip failed, the other column could be used and if necessary we could go up the middle using one from each. It seemed we crawled up an endless mound of dirt and stone. Finally Ravencrom hissed and waved at Thom and I to stop. I looked up and could see the edge of the cliff above us outlined by a rim of light.

The lieutenant crawled forward until he disappeared over the top, closely followed by Thom. I leaned against the cliff and tried to rest my aching hands. At the touch on the top of my head I gasped, then bit my lower lip to keep from crying out as one of them grabbed a handful of my hair. Then I felt a touch on my neck as someone pulled on my shirt's collar. I grabbed the hand and felt mine guided to a clump of grass. On the other side of me someone took a hold on my pant's waistband and pulled me over the edge. The three of us sagged into an exhausted heap behind a jumble of large stones and dead weeds.

I rolled over onto my back as Ravencrom and Thom peeked through the undergrowth. The stars winked down at me as I flexed my sore, dirty hands, their light welcome beacons in the deep night. I wondered if I had made the right decision in leaving the Sisterhood of Elune for the humans' power. Was using the Light the same as using magic? Long ago one of the greatest night elves ever born had fallen under magic's sway and he had nearly destroyed the world. A breeze came up and set me to shivering again now that I wasn't moving. I unrolled my gown and the first touch of the wet fabric on my legs felt like ice.

"There's one guard at the back door of the keep," Ravencrom said. He picked up a rock and threw it at the man, making a soft sound of exasperation when it went far off its mark. The guard stood up at the sound of the missile hitting the ground but soon sat back down in the doorway. Ravencrom threw another rock but wherever it had landed it didn't make a sound. He bowed his head in frustration.

I sat up and signaled I would like to try my luck. At his answering shrug, I threw the pebble, only to hear a clink as it bounced off the man's armor. I immediately ducked, surprised I had managed hit anything at all. I peeked back over our cover to see the guard coming towards our hiding place. On impulse I slowly stood and waved to him. He looked from one side of the hilltop to the other and then continued to walk towards me. Just as he rounded the rocks, Ravencrom and Thom grabbed him and pulled him down. I turned away and covered my ears, not looking up until I felt a hand on my shoulder.