They locked themselves in Ferral's chambers in the compound. He guided her to the sofa and sat beside her, anxiously stroking her hands. Niki lay in her lap, nearly comatose.

"Lethia," Ferral said softly, "you have an instinct for healing. You sensed how to revive the ghosts. And you knew what to do for me. What do you need, right now?"

"Solar Light," she said, forcing the words out. "It's the one branch we've never encountered."

"Solar," Ferral muttered, looking around the room as if he might find some in a corner. He summoned Banner. "Can we use Solar Light?"

"Yes, of course," Banner replied. "But neither of us are any good at it."

Ferral held out a hand and concentrated. A flicker of orange fire appeared in his palm, slowly resolving into a fiery knife. Then it collapsed into wispy flames. He growled and tried again, this time trying to summon a gun made of fire. It swirled into his hand, flames licking up his arm without burning him. Then it fizzled and went out.

"This is like trying to write left-handed," Ferral said. "I don't know this kind of Light." He turned to her. "Here. Take it."

Lethia lifted a hand toward him, then hesitated and pulled it back. A hideous memory flashed through her mind - of tearing the Light out of a Cabal legionnaire, watching the huge alien slump dead at her feet.

"I can't take your Light," she whispered. "I might kill you."

Ferral shrugged. "So what? I'm a Guardian. Banner will have me up in a few seconds."

"But ... Ferral ... what if I drain him as well as you? I've never tried this on a Guardian before."

They both gave Banner a worried look.

The ghost glanced from Lethia, to Ferral, and back. "Can't you control how much you take?"

Lethia shook her head. "I either drain Light or I don't. On or off. The only way I can moderate it is to control how long I'm in contact with someone." The sadness was making her cry, and she hated it. She didn't want to cry right now.

Ferral understood the reason for her tears, but it didn't make them any easier to bear. He sat beside her, head bowed, trying to grasp Solar Light. It felt completely different from Void. All he could describe it as was like switching from knives to hand axes. The technique was completely different.

At the same time, his own depression came stealing back. What was the point of even trying? He'd never cure her. Healing wasn't one of his powers. He knew the wilderness, and fixing machines, and tinkering with weapons. Even his Light manifested as knives.

The Darkness spread itself through him, feeding on his despair. It presented him with a memory of the Dreadnaught. Ferral gazed into it without flinching. He had worked to desensitize himself to the horror of it. Now he studied the memory grimly - of watching his fire team die one at a time, stripped of Light and life.

Lethia was in danger of that. Operating on less Light than she should, the dark thing infecting her would eventually gain the upper hand. She would die slowly - much more slowly than the team on the Dreadnaught.

Ferral pushed back the weighty sadness that threatened to stifle him. He'd seen the Darkness at work on Guardians. His memory empowered him to face it, now. Again that fierce love arose inside him. She was his, now, and he was going to fight for her, even if it cost him every last flicker of his Light.

"Lethia," he said, turning to her, "you don't have to take my Light. I'm going to give it to you."

Her blue-green eyes lifted to his face. She looked so frightened, so lost, the miserable tears on her cheeks. It was the way she'd looked when he pulled her out from under piles of dead aliens in the Martian desert, when he'd begun to lose his heart to her. He wiped away her tears with the back of one hand.

"How?" she whispered. "I don't want to hurt you."

Ferral turned to his ghost. "Banner, I'm going to draw on Solar Light again. You've got to shut it off before it kills either of us, all right?"

Banner understood his intent. He blinked at Ferral, then Lethia, then at the motionless Niki. "I'll try."

Ferral gently pulled her into his arms. "I'm going to kiss you," he whispered. "And I'll give you Light."

She smiled. "I did just marry you." She lifted her lips to his.

Ferral kissed her, softly, tenderly, caressing her sensitive lips with his own. And he called on his Light again. Flames licked over his body, across his face, through their embrace, and into Lethia. He held it in check, keeping it from its full destructive power. Instead of a fiery burn, it enfolded her with warmth.

She raised a hand to stroke his cheek, her palm cool against the fire. Then her hand dropped to Niki, flame trailing from her fingertips, instilling him with it. She relaxed in his arms, drawing in his Light, as a Voidwalker did.

Ferral kissed her for second upon eternal second, stroking her hair, trying to keep his Light under control. It wanted to blaze out of him, unfocused, a bonfire like the surface of the sun. His super powers didn't usually last this long. Still, he kept the Light burning through him, letting it flow into this woman he loved so much. All my Light is yours, he thought. Take it all.

Lethia had wanted to kiss Ferral properly for so long. He was every bit as satisfying as she had dreamed, his lips soft and sensual against her own. His Light soaked into her, heat with a razor edge of danger. If his focus shifted too much, he would incinerate her. Her Void power pulled it in, more and more with each kiss. He was so powerful, she could draw in his Light until she caught fire and it still wouldn't drain him entirely.

She passed the Solar Light to Niki, but the ghost didn't awaken. Too much Darkness remained in them both. It swirled and slithered inside her, hiding in the shadows of her being, resisting the Light. She felt for it, trying to force it out, but she had no leverage against it when it was inside her. The most she could do was push it from place to place.

"I can't get rid of it," she whispered, pulling away from her husband and staring down at her ghost. "The Darkness. The Light isn't enough." The tears threatened to return. The alien sadness crippled her, choking away her happiness.

"Leth," Ferral whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. "Could you give me your Darkness?"

She searched his golden eyes, fear joining the sadness. "Give it to you? I ... I might be able to. But it'll kill your Light!"

"Using this much Solar is killing my Darkness," he said, smiling. "It's burning it away, inch by inch. I think, if I could just summon more Light, it would purge it completely. But you're still Void-locked. So ... maybe I can burn the Darkness for you."

She gathered the dismal, foreign sadness in her mind. The borrowed Light let her roll the Darkness into a sphere, the way she built her Void bombs. "But more Darkness will make you worse."

"I'm burning it," he whispered.

Burning it! Was it possible to burn the Darkness, itself? Maybe there was more power in the Light than she had ever dreamed. She kissed him again and pushed that rolled-up Darkness into him.

Ferral felt her Darkness pour into him. He reeled backward, breaking the connection. He slipped off the couch and stood there, eyes closed. This new depression combined with his own to form a heavy, smothering fog that pressed the Light, itself, out of his heart.

But he had taken this for her. His love for her was as powerful as the Light.

"Banner," he panted, "can you do one more super?"

His ghost floated nearby, his eye burning orange with the effort of maintaining unfamiliar Solar Light. Smoke curled from his shell.

"Once more," Banner said.

Ferral struggled through the fog and found the fire. And the lightning. And the void. And pulled all of them into himself at once. The full strength of Light converged on him, scorching through the Darkness. But it was too much for his body to withstand-it would tear him apart, too.

Lethia sensed what Ferral was about to do. She leaped off the sofa, wrapped her arms around him, and flung out her Void Light like a safety net.

When the full force of all three Light aspects blasted through Ferral, Lethia deflected part of it into herself, grounding it like a lightning rod. There was a blinding white flash. Pain washed through her in a spinning, sideways fashion, hers and yet not hers. She glimpsed the hearts of stars, and cradle of Light, itself. Then they were falling, crashing through space, like a faltering ship into the surface of Mars.

She awoke on the floor. Ferral lay on top of her, unconscious, immobile. Her arms were still locked around him. Their ghosts flew to and fro above them, sweeping them with healing beams.

"Well," Niki said, "this is awkward."

His purple eye had turned a bright, sky blue.

"They are married, now," Banner pointed out. His shell was scorched around the edges, but he didn't seem worried. "I suppose we'll have to get used to this behavior."

"Is he all right?" Lethia asked, stroking Ferral's hair. His head rested on her shoulder, eyes closed. If the floor hadn't been so hard, it would have been quite comfortable.

"He vanquished the Darkness for both of you," Banner said. "He's unhurt, but very tired. And he's sleeping where he's wanted to be for months."

"Maybe we shouldn't watch," Niki said. "I'm afraid I'm about to be very embarrassed."

"Niki!" Lethia exclaimed. "Nothing's happening. Are you better now?"

"I'm not Void-locked!" he exclaimed, spinning his yellow shell segments cheerfully. "That was one spectacular kiss."

Lethia's face grew warm, thinking about it. She turned her head and pressed her lips to Ferral's cheek. "This is cozy," she whispered to him, "but you're heavy." She slid him to the floor and crawled to her feet.

The blanket of depression was gone. In its place was a buoyant happiness, a glow of contentment, that had been there all along. Light fizzed inside her - Void, Arc, and Solar, crackling and blazing, waiting for her to call on any of it.

"You're well," she whispered to Niki.

He flew up and shyly touched her face with his shell. "You healed me. And so did Ferral, by sharing his Light with us. You don't have to be only a Voidwalker, if you don't want to."

She stroked him. "I'm just glad you're not ruined forever." The world seemed so much brighter, so full of potential.

She knelt over Ferral and stroked his face. "Wake up, hero. You can't sleep on the floor all day."

He stirred and opened his eyes. For a long moment he simply smiled up at her as his wits returned.

She kissed him lightly. "You killed the Darkness."

He blinked, his smile vanishing into a wondering look. "I think ... I think I did." He sat up, rubbing his head. "I don't feel it at all anymore." He turned to her and caught her hand. "And you? Are you better?"

"Completely." She gestured to her ghost. "And Niki isn't Void-Locked anymore, either."

Ferral scrambled to his feet. "That's wonderful! I was so afraid I was going to kill us all, doing that. And ... Leth ..." He caught her in a hug and kissed her, frantically. "I was so afraid I'd lose you," he whispered. "Before I'd even had a chance to love you."

"I was so far gone," she whispered. "But now - " She slipped her arms around his neck and pulled him toward the bed.

Ferral snapped his fingers at the ghosts and pointed at the door. They obediently flew out into the office space, and Ferral shut the door.

"Thank the Traveler," Niki said. "I didn't want to see that."

"Me neither," Banner agreed. "I mean, I'm happy that they're happy. But I don't need to watch."

Niki opened and closed his shell a few times. "I have full contact with the Light again! I'd gotten so used to only Void. It feels like I'm burning." He glanced toward the door, then drooped a little. "Do ... do you think Lethia will still love me? She has Ferral, now."

"She'll always love you," Banner reassured him. "A Guardian's relationship with their ghost is a deep friendship that nothing can touch. When you've had your Guardian as long as I've had mine, you'll understand."

"Thanks," Niki whispered.

The two Guardians stayed in their rooms for the next several days, emerging only for meals. Delsaran rolled his eyes and kept on with preparations for selling the various businesses. He hadn't thought Guardians had enough humanity left in them to marry, but those two were certainly annoying enough.

When their honeymoon week was over, Ferral emerged and returned to work, rested and cheerful. Lethia prowled the compound and grounds, looking for any sign of the person who kept shooting at them.

Life was quiet for several weeks. Ferral met with various business owners and closed negotiations, selling off the first of the nineteen businesses. Lethia sent messages to the Vanguard, explaining about their desire to establish a Vanguard base in the Reef. This began a long period of deliberation and arguments between Lethia and Ikora.

The Reef still despised Guardians, and the Vanguard had no official interest there. Lethia had to go between the Reefedge leadership and the Vanguard multiple times before a mutual agreement was reached. The Dasa compound would open to Guardians as a base of operations. The remaining businesses in Reefedge would cater to their needs, and new glimmer would flow into their economy. In return, the Reef would tolerate the Guardians and their noisy ships. Lethia and Ferral received their orders to remain permanently stationed there.

Then, one evening a month later, the two Eliksni bodyguards caught the sniper.

Ferral and Lethia were having dinner on their second story balcony. "Uh oh," Ferral remarked, gazing over the railing. "Looks like my bodyguards did their job."

Lethia looked. The two aliens dragged a human figure between them, their fourth arms holding guns to his head. The figure wore a long robe, but that was all they could see of him.

"Looks like we get to settle this now," Ferral said. He and Lethia hurried downstairs to meet the guards.

The aliens dragged their prisoner into the entry and threw him on the floor. "Here is the filth who attacked you," one Eliksni hissed. "Say the word and we'll kill him."

"Let me speak to him, first," Ferral said, stepping forward. "Who are you?"

The figure slowly climbed to his feet and pushed back his hood. He was an Awoken with storm-blue skin. The Light that swirled under his skin crawled with too much Darkness.

"Guardian," he said, then spat on the floor. "Dead servant of a dead god. You don't deserve to be called a Dasa."

Ferral stood very still, teeth clenched. He was so tired of being insulted over this. He took enough of it from his employees.

Lethia sensed this and slowly drew her sidearm. "He asked you a question."

"I do not fear death," the man proclaimed. "I serve the Ascendant Hand. We have the means to destroy your Light. We will never stop trying until both of you are permanently dead."

"I thought so," Ferral muttered. "You can drop the high-minded blather. This is about the money and power you're not going to get, isn't it?"

The man smiled. "You have such a small mind, Guardian. You are the last Dasa. You serve the wrong side."

"Right," Ferral said, refusing to be intimidated. "Who are you working for?"

The man laughed - a high, crazy laugh. The bodyguards tensed, raising their weapons.

"I serve Lord Dasa!" the man exclaimed. "True leader of the clan! Sympathetic to the Hand! Generous leader of underground movements!"

"My father had nothing to do with you," Ferral snarled. "I read it in his records. And he's dead."

"Not dead!" giggled the captive. "Taken!"

A wave of energy rippled through the room, making reality bend sideways. A black portal peeled open in the nearest wall. Out of it emerged a swarm of Taken Awoken - staggering, wobbling black shapes, their outlines burning white where they touched the third dimension.

Their leader was twice the height of the rest, simply because it wanted to be. Under the burning whiteness on its forehead, the man's face bore a remarkable likeness to Ferral's.

"Failure," the being hissed. "Outcast. You don't deserve to be raised as a Guardian."

Ferral and Lethia hastily summoned their rifles. But Lethia's hands shook as she worked the safety. The bodyguards sprang to either side of the Guardians, weapons raised, aiming at first one demon, then the next.

The Taken spread out in a line, but didn't attack. It was the whole Dasa clan, men and women, all bearing a family resemblance to Ferral. All reduced to black, consumed versions of themselves. Ferral recognized several of them. He had seen them before Oryx's attack - and they had despised him for being a Guardian then, too. Now, it was as if being Taken had only revealed their true selves.

The captured sniper bowed to the floor before the being that had been Lord Dasa. "Lord! You honor me with your presence!"

Lord Dasa ignored him. His attention was fixed on his last remaining son, and the Light that blazed within him.

"You have sworn alliance to the losing side, Kymil Elvaris. You always did disappoint me. The Light shall never avail against the Darkness. You know this in your heart, as an Awoken."

Ferral stared at his father in sick fascination, like a mouse entranced by the swaying of a cobra. This was the father he didn't remember - or something that looked like him. "Is this you saying this, or your masters?"

The being hissed at him. The other Taken made strangled screeching sounds. It was not speech - more an expression of barely restrained hatred.

Ferral said, "You may have thrown me out. But the Traveler values me enough to make me a Guardian. Lethia values me as a person. That means more to me than anything you corrupt monsters can imagine."

"You deluded fool," Lord Dasa purred. "The Traveler does not impart value. It merely teaches you satisfaction in doing its bidding. We Awoken turned our backs on the Traveler centuries ago. All of my clan knows this." He spread his arms, indicating the Taken around him. "And you, my eldest son. You were the only one who defied me. You accused me of wrongdoing and unethical business practices. I've never forgiven you for that."

"I noticed," Ferral muttered.

Lord Dasa pointed at him. "Instead, you went off with the Prince's Crows and got yourself killed. We mourned you, Kymil. If only you had returned and made up before it was too late."

Ferral tried not to feel sorry about this. It's not really your father. It's a Taken monster with his memory.

Lord Dasa smiled - a ghastly expression with black teeth and white lips. "But if you want ... I can extend my forgiveness now. We can be reconciled at last. If you want."

Ferral hesitated, sensing a trap. The Taken watched him, tense, quiet, awaiting his answer. The sniper rose to his feet and stood watching the Guardians. The universe seemed to listen for his answer.

What did he want? Ferral looked at Lethia beside him, and the Eliksni guards standing shoulder to shoulder with them. Lethia's rifle shook in her hands, but still she faced the enemy, holding her fear in check.

She was the only thing he had ever truly longed for. And she had granted him a myriad other things he had wanted - acceptance, and love, and companionship. With Lethia at his side, he was satisfied. He didn't need to try to make up with this clan of demons.

He looked Lord Dasa in the eye. "I want nothing."

The Taken clan screeched and shifted, their hands clawing the air, wishing to tear him apart. And beyond that, a malevolent presence grew angry. They didn't want him satisfied - they wanted him hungry.

In place of that, they wanted him dead.

"You refuse?" Lord Dasa said incredulously. "You refuse to confess your crime? Refuse to set things right between us at the eleventh hour? And you call yourself a Lightbearer."

This stung. Ferral drew a deep breath, keeping himself under control. "I don't make deals with Taken."

"We will quench your Light," Lord Dasa snarled. "And we will drag you screaming into the Darkness."

The Taken sprang at them, their screams filling the air. Ferral, Lethia, and the Eliksni opened fire. Lord Dasa charged at Ferral. One hand raked down Ferral's shoulder and across his chest, tearing through his shirt and flesh. Lord Dasa received the contents of half a rifle magazine for his trouble. The bullets shredded his shadowy flesh and sent him shrieking back to the abyss.

Lethia screamed, too, her voice drowned out by their enemies. She blasted Taken until her rifle was empty. Then she crouched on the floor and covered her head, forgetting she was a Guardian, forgetting she had more ammo, forgetting everything except her paralyzing fear of the Taken. "Make it stop! Make it stop!"

Ferral and the Eliksni closed ranks to protect her. Hundreds more Taken were crawling out of that portal. The air reeked of ozone and hot metal. Ferral faced them as a Guardian, and also as a man defending his wife. Already his ghost was healing the slash across his shoulder. The Light within him blazed in righteous anger.

"You two, duck!" he told the Eliksni guards. They crouched at once.

Ferral summoned his super power and flung handfuls of shadow knives into the attacking enemies, felling rows of them like cut grass. The blades whistled over the heads of his team. He'd learned his lesson by hitting Niki, and kept his focus firmly on the enemy.

Then he lobbed a grenade into the portal, itself.

The explosion rattled the walls. The portal slurped closed. The few remaining Taken swirled and vanished into nothing. Silence fell.

The only sign of a battle was the sniper, now lying dead on the floor, shot through the heart. One outstretched hand gripped a dagger with a jagged blade of black metal.

Yarniks pointed at him. "He drew a weapon of Darkness. More deadly than Taken. I killed him." The alien stalked forward and plucked the blade from the dead hand. "Corrupt. This will sicken a Guardian. I'll dispose of it." He strode out the front door, carrying the dagger in the ends of two fingers.

Ferral knelt and put his arms around Lethia, who clung to him. They sat there in silence, Creviks standing over them with his rifle, waiting.

After a while, Yarniks returned, empty handed. "Such foulness should not be allowed to exist."

Ferral rose to his feet and bowed to the alien. "You have my gratitude."

Both Eliksni stared at him, nonplussed. Then they gestured rapidly to each other. A good deal more friendly, Yarniks said, "Does the female need help?"

Lethia rose to her feet, clinging to Ferral's hand. "I'm all right, thank you," she told them shakily. "I didn't expect to see ... the whole clan."

"Those were no longer the clan Dasa," Creviks said. "They only looked like them."

The Guardians climbed the stairs back to their rooms, the guards escorting them. They took up posts outside the doors as Ferral helped Lethia inside.

Once the doors were shut, Lethia burst into tears. Ferral sat and held her, letting her cry into his torn shirt, feeling her tremble as he had trembled back at the shack in the forest during flashbacks.

"I was afraid you'd listen to them," she whispered. "It was so dark. I couldn't feel the Light anymore. It was waiting to snatch you, the way it did them."

"But I'm content," he whispered, nuzzling her hair. "I have everything I could ever ask for, right here in my arms."

She hid her face in his neck and sat there, no longer crying, just holding him and breathing. He rocked her a little, stroking her hair.

"I don't want anything, either," she whispered. "Only you. But they didn't ask me. They wanted you. They were ... they were hungry for you."

"The wanting," Ferral said. "That's where the Darkness feeds. I guess we'll have to be careful of that." After a moment, he added tenderly, "What do you want, sweetheart?"

"I want to see you grow well and strong again," she whispered. "I want to share every day with you. And ... if it's possible ... I'd like to bear your children."

He grinned and kissed her cheek. "It's tricky for Guardians to carry to term, but you're strong. I'm sure you'll manage." He didn't add that her answer satisfied and thrilled him at once.

"What you mean is," he said, "you want us to build our own legacy."

"Yes," Lethia said. "I want us to have a good future. And for that, we need a clan of our own. One that serves the Light and fears no Taken." She kissed him, slowly, lovingly.

He smiled. "I'd like to try."

The end