"So what exactly are you trying to tell me? What kind of a point are you trying to make? Do you actually think I would drug Æseri? I'm not that dumb." Jen sighed. "I'm not the only person around here who doesn't like him."

"I'm not saying you're the only suspect here," Falon said tightly. "It could have been anyone. I'm just asking if you know and if not if you have any idea. That's it. Really. That's all I want from you."

"For some reason, I'm surprised." Jen rolled her eyes. "You're an ass, Falon. You have no proof that it wasn't you."

"Professional pride," Falon said as tightly as before. "I wouldn't drug a patient. Outside of the infirmary I might do that to Æseri, but when he's in my care it's important to me that he's kept safe." He pulled himself up, trying—and failing—to look self-important, proud, arrogant and maybe even a little bit dangerous. Whatever he tried, he only succeeded in looking like an idiot.

"Do you expect me to believe that?" Jen glared at him, a very specific glare that signified—among other things—anger and very, very strong disapproval. "Because if you do, then I'm afraid—"

"Do I think that you should believe me? Absolutely. You know I'm telling you the truth, so be a good girl and take your medicine. You won't be pinning this one on me, Miss Jen." Falon smiled widely and arrogantly. "I'm the winner this time."

"I can prove anything I want to prove, my dear Falon. I also am the one who won. It would do you well to remember that. Okay?" Jen sighed, blasted Falon with lightning bolstered by her Gray strength and walked out of the room.

**********

Æseri still couldn't make head or tail out of anything that was happening to him. He felt vaguely aware of something… *somewhere* in the deep recesses of his mind, but he didn't know a thing. It made him angry. He tried to get angry, to struggle, but there was nothing to get angry at and nothing to struggle against but himself…

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair. Not that anything was, but that was beside the point in this case. It wasn't just unfair. Everything felt just… so *wrong* somehow… too wrong to even be wrong enough…

**********

"So what is all this I've heard about Æseri drugged?" Staunt asked Jen in an overly casual tone.

Jen glared at him. "What about it?"

"Do you know who did it?"

"No."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes."

"Even any idea what happened?"

"No, Staunt. So stop asking." Jen glared at him. "I don't like Æseri at all, and I won't pretend I do, but I wouldn't drug him. Okay? Can somebody believe me for a change?" she sighed. "I don't care at all about him. I won't lie and say that I think anything—meaning anything at all, even in briefest recollection of thoughts—positive about him, but I wouldn't do that to someone. I'm just not that stupid."

"Define 'stupid' when used in this context."

"Maybe it's not even stupid." Jen groaned and gave Staunt an exasperated look. "I'm ambitious, and trying to dispose of Æseri in such an extravagant manner would be impractical, not just irritating. It is a dumb idea and I'd be Prime Suspect number one. If I wanted him dead I'd kill him straight out. I'm more than capable of doing so. You should know that."

"I suppose I should. And I suppose that at least on some level I am perfectly aware of your ability to dispose of the little pain in the ass. But maybe I don't. I'm not a particularly smart man. I've never been known for being smart. I've been known for being able to crush things and kill things… little monsters who were stupid enough to go up against me." Staunt sat on the ground, enveloped for the moment in the misery of his memories.

"Everyone has weaknesses." Jen sat next to him. "You can't blame yourself for that. Nobody can. It's all right, really."

"I know," Staunt said miserably, "That's what makes it so bad."

"Why does that make it worse?"

"It just does."

Jen stood and began to walk away. "I don't understand you, Staunt. Maybe someday I'll be able to, but until then…" she left.

**********

The tall, thin demon was back. Its empty gold eyes narrowed and slanted upward, and its flat face twisted into a horrible grin, its lipless mouth poening to show countless tiny silver-white teeth. Its claws—if indeed they were claws—spread and lengthened, ending in points too narrow to see, sharp and shiny and silver-white as the teeth. It grew taller and broader, its skin a darkening blue, cut by slashes of white… its grin narrowed and its eyes shrunk until Æseri found himself looking into Lanciro's savage, twisted face…

And the great red eye opened again in the back of his mind, larger and more terrible than ever before… the whole eye glowed even redder, more baleful and terrifying, pulsating like a great corrupt heart, red like fresh blood…

The pupil in the center darkened to an empty black, dropping away for a sort of eternity… then it seemed to open; blinding, searing emptiness, tearing into his heart, his soul… baring everything he had hidden, everything he had tried to hide, things he'd forgotten… things he'd tried so hard to forget.

He heard himself scream, but it was detached from him, a totally meaningless sound, as though it were coming from elsewhere. With his heart, mind and soul bared, body screaming from some pain so foreign he didn't even know what it was or even what it was… he faced the demon, the terrible demon, the demon with the face of his brother…

And he knew that it was real… the demon was there, hating as much as it appeared to be hating. It had to be real, the pain, the rage, everything. There was just no way that his own mind could ever, would ever betray him like this, so horribly… his mind could not create such a horrendous vision of pain and terror… no way at all, the possibility of it was too tiny and even what possibility there *was* was illogical and twisted…

The demon advanced on him, grinning horribly, empty gold eyes growing larger again, the face reverting to its original emotionless flatness. The body lost its stocky, powerful shape, reverting to the almost frail thinness… the skin lost the deep blue and bright white coloring it and faded again into the blind, colorless gray.

Then there was nothing but blackness… blackness and the horrible, baleful eye… pulsating like a heart again, dying… the swirling oblivion of the dark pupil seeming to spin faster, spinning out, little tendrils of nothingness, cruelty, hate and pain… among other things.

Æseri heard himself scream again, but like before it was groundless and meaningless… he didn't even feel the pain that caused it, there was no real feeling, no understanding… his heart hammered in his chest, pounding almost like thunder, in sync with the rhythm of the great eye, faster and faster… then every bit of the oblivion spilled from the eye.

And then there was nothing.

**********

Somewhere, far from Kul, a scream tore across the barren wasteland… a scream full of pain and rage and terror… and primal brutality. The creature whirled on its attacker, leaping from its crouch like a streamlined, coiled spring. It screamed again; angry terrified and thirsty for the blood running through the veins of its attacker. The angry creature's teeth snapped shut.

The blow never met the targeted flesh. Lanciro parried the young Cabalos's strike neatly. The teeth hung on to the shaft of his spear as he tried to wrench it free. Realizing that it was uselss to play tug-of-war, he released the spear and whirled around, kicking back with his hind leg to smash his enemy's jaw.

The Cabalos screamed and released the spear, blood dripping from its crushed muzzle. "Is that the best you can do?" Lanciro sneered. "I've seen so much better from your kind… why are you so weak? Why do you fight like a child? …though you are little more. You know that you won't be able to hold out much longer against me, and yet you still won't run? Why is that?"

The Cabalos muttered something under its breath.

"Speak louder!" Lanciro snapped. "I can't hear you!"

"I said…" the words came out of the crushed mouth malformed but understandable. "I said that you will never understand. You are a fool to think that you could. Take your stupid lineage somewhere else. We don't belive that the likes of you could really be the desecndants of Thor. You, of all people!" it coughed and spat blood and several teeth on to the ground. "You cannot understand…

"I can't retreat in a fight. It is not my way, or my fate. They sent me to fight you, and if I run I will be nothing… once nothing for lack of my teeth, twice nothing for running away. They sent me to die at your hand, Thor's son, and that is what I will do. You have helped to keep us strong. You live in our legends, and will forever… as the weak man." It laughed weakly and fell again. "Would you kill me honorably, Thor's son, or would you leave me to die?"

"I will let you live," Lanciro said decisively.

"For how long?" the Cabalos asked him bitterly. "It is only a matter of minutes now, or hours at most. Leave me, Thor's son. There is nothing left for you."

"Who are you?" Lanciro bent over his victim, his eyes growing bright with so many tears he had never shed.

"I… what? I can't hear you…"

"Who ARE you?" Lanciro whispered fircely. "Tell me!"

"Jamai," the Cabalos wheezed, spitting out more blood.

"I can help you, Jamai," Lanciro said softly. "If you'll let me. Do you know who I am?"

Jamai grinned at Lanciro with what was left of his teeth. "You are Lanciro, son of Kela and Pajmat. Brother of Æseri. And you are dead." He reseased a blast of lightning, channeling all of what was left of his strength into the attack that would kill Lanciro. Or so he hoped.