"So what does Aphrael say? I take it you went to her?" Khalad asked.

Berit had spent a large portion of the previous night talking, trying to explain the things he barely understood. As the deep of night lifted and dawn crept into the sky Khalad started to ask his questions. First they were disbelieving but gradually he had come to realise that Berit was joking, so his questions changed and were now striking to the heart of the matter.

"Of course. She's being tight lipped." And furious, she had been furious. She hadn't raged or thrown thunderbolts but the signs were there in her posture and her frowns. Child Goddess she may be but Goddess all the same and Berit had not stayed to provoke her further.

"And Bhellium?"

"Gone elsewhere, taking Sparhawk's power with it." That had been Berit's first hope: that Sparhawk could just undo whatever it was he'd done, but that was quickly dashed. "Do you think I would be burying myself in dusty books if I didn't have to."

"No. I suppose not."

They rode without conversation for a while, continuing the journey that had been rudely interrupted the night before. The steady pace of hooves on hard packed road and the creak of leather saddles filled the silence between them.

"So you don't know how long this might last?"

"No." Berit replied quietly.

"Is it just blade wounds that heal like that, or others as well?"

"I don't know. I haven't exactly been putting it to the test. I'm a fool but I'm not stupid." Khalad gave a snort at that, thankfully not launching into his usual opinion of lordly intelligence.

"I thought you had gathered everything about Bhellium back before you all went to Zemoch." Khalad said.

"Yes, but then we didn't know what it truly was. Then we were looking for tales about a mad trolls shiny obsession. Now I'm looking for information about the power behind the creation of worlds."

"Why exactly?"

"Why?"

"Yes why. You should be dead twice over. But you are not, yet you don't seem happy at that." Berit was surprised at the bite in Khalad's voice, and recognised the anger he was trying to suppress.

Well Berit was angry as well. He was angry at Sparhawk playing with new-found powers on him, and then throwing them away when they didn't work like he thought they would. He was angry that the people – and Gods - he usually turned to for answers were leaving him out in the cold. He was angry at Bhellium for leaving. He was angry at himself for dying in the first place. He pulled up his horse and Khalad was forced to stop as well or leave him standing in the middle of the road.

"Of course I'm bloody happy to not be dead! But there's a difference between being glad to be alive and wondering what else your friend did when he bought you back from the grave. So no, I don't know how long this will last, I don't know how far it goes and I don't understand why it happened in the first place." Berit realised he was yelling. He modified his volume slightly, but continued to vent all the fears he had been trying to deny. He took a deep breath. "Each time I've healed its... it's hard to describe but it's like the other wounds that have already healed ache with cold. What is that? Will it get worse? What if I get sent back there." Berit was almost whispering now, anger and energy exhausted as he spoke.

"Was it so bad... I thought..." Khalad was speaking just as softly now. Berit knew what he thought. They'd travelled far enough – and spoken to enough Gods - to know that each religion had it's own idea of what happened after death but they were broadly consistent: the virtuous were rewarded while the wicked were punished. An endless empty silence wasn't mentioned anywhere. Maybe that was what Flute had been angry about – his insight into the afterlife rather than Sparhawk's actions, like he first assumed.

"Not really I suppose" Berit offered. "I didn't know any different while I was there. It was peaceful. But once Sparhawk started to bring me back..." He trailed off.

"It looked painful."

Berit swallowed at the memory. "It was. If... if I go back there... It's better not to know that there was anything else. It's better not to know what you're missing. But what if that's not what's waiting next time." Berit was trying to make Khalad understand his fears: that half knowing something was worse than complete ignorance.

"Why did you keep all this to yourself. Why not ask for help? Don't you trust me?" Khalad had clearly been hurt by the days that Berit had spent isolating himself in his fruitless searching. Their journey together across the Tamul empire had forged the type of bond that only occurs with someone who faces death at your side. If Khalad considered Berit's actions a betrayal then that was just one more thing that Berit had to make him understand.

"Of course I trust you!" Berit said.

"Well it doesn't feel like it." Came the grumpy reply.

"I wouldn't be telling you all this if I didn't trust you." Berit thought that this would be obvious.

"And yet would you have said anything if I hadn't seen you get shot in the chest?" This time it was Khalad was yelling, face stern and arms crossed, the horse standing patiently beneath him. "No, I don't think so. Do you know what this has been like? To see you almost..." He corrected himself "To see you die like that. Then you've been avoiding me. Then to see you get hurt again and.."

Berit interrupted him, incensed that Khalad was taking his death of all things as a personal offense.

"I didn't ask you to come. You just invited yourself because you think you know better than anyone else. We are just all so stupid compared to you right?"

"If you call hiding from your friends stupid then yes. How long ago was it that you were telling me that to be a Knight was to trust the man beside you implicitly. But now, you can't even hold a conversation with me. Where's the trust there?"

"Back to this? You are the most trustworthy man I know."

"Balls."

"It's me that can't be trusted."

"What?" Khalad's question was sharp, but all anger had left his voice. Now he sounded – and looked – confused, as if trying to understand a small child who was babbling nonsense.

"What if there are more side effects, Khalad. What if they aren't all as beneficial." Berit would have hesitated but he had said so much already, why not finish. "What if they affect my mind and...I hurt someone. I don't understand what's happening and that can only be dangerous for those around me."

Khalad gave a sigh, and swung down from his horse.

"Get down here." He gestured at the young knight. Unsure, Berit did as he was told – he did trust Khalad after all.

The moment his feet touched the ground, Khalad clasped his shoulders firmly, then drew him in for a fearsome hug.

"Listen to me, you fool." He whispered harshly. "If there's such a thing as a heaven you of all people will be going there someday. And you are not going to hurt anyone because it's just not in your nature."

"What if this changes my nature."

"I won't let it. What if we try and forget but all the possible things that could go wrong, which, let's admit for men in our profession is a very long list." Berit gave a grunt of amusement at that. "Let's just be glad that you've been given a second chance."

Khalad let him go, looking for Berit's agreement.

"But..." Berit didn't get very far.

"No, no buts either. Today we are both alive. And we are going to go to find this book of yours to put your mind at ease, but if you trust anything trust this: I will be watching out for you. And watching you, if I have to."

Berit smiled at the sincerity in his friend's voice. The thought that Khalad would be looking out for any odd behaviour awhile they were on the road together was more comforting than he expected, and he was a fool for not having this conversation earlier.