"Where the traveler never tires," her voice says and Thane closes his eyes. He takes in a rattling breath and then another. The pain in his chest feels as though it has burst into flame. The darkness before his eyes swims. The drums in his ears seem like they will never stop beating their war song. Her voice cracks as she says,
"The lover never leaves."
He needs to hold on, he has to. Some childish and fearful part of him needs to hear her finish.
"The hungry never starve." His mouth form the words because the breath has been stolen from his lungs and he can no longer find the strength to speak.
"Guide this one, Kalahira, and she will become a companion to you as she was to me."
Even angels need prayers, sometimes more so than the wicked.