As soon as King Zachary's footsteps faded from the hall, the tears that Karigan had suppressed during his visit started to leak slowly out of of her eyes. It wasn't possible to hold them back any longer. Her breath hitched and she swallowed convulsively, unwilling to let anyone hear her cry.

It's not fair, she sobbed silently. The fingers of her left hand clutched the soft blanket on top of her in a death grip. It really wasn't fair. She had already overcome so many obstacles and had been through so much and for what? She put herself in danger over and over again – why? To save Sacoridia? All she had done was buy some time. Mornhavon was still alive and still bent on total domination. The Eletians had made it clear that they considered her and her magic as much of a danger as a help. Even if she did figure out what she was doing, how was she supposed to defeat Mornhavon – a man with over a millennium of practical experience in dark magic?

For what? she begged in the privacy of her thoughts as anguish twisted her face.

To drive a wedge between herself and her clan.

To watch her friends perish or turn away from her.

For a man who claimed he loved her to marry another.

For the first time since admitting to herself that she loved Zachary, Karigan let herself truly feel it. The emotion washing over her was overwhelming. She would do anything for him as the king and even more so for the man. Only, now she could not do anything for him at all outside of her service as a Green Rider. It would be best for him if she kept her distance from him and did not distract him from his duties.

A single thought kept running through her thoughts over and over again. What if I had told him how I felt sooner? Would things be different?

What if, what if, what if. There would be no what ifs for her. Not now and not ever. Karigan closed her eyes and cried silently. Eventually, her body gave out on her again and as she started to fall unconscious, she welcomed the numb weightlessness that seemed to roll over her.

She stood in the middle of Blackveil again, but this time she was all alone. She could see the corrupt, twisted trees writhe in an ancient hunger and feel the mutated life creeping up on her from all sides. Her path was clear of all obstacles. She pressed onward along the overgrown avenue, grateful that she had a reprieve from the evil all around her. At intervals she passed intersections or offshoots of the road. At each point, she glanced down the path and saw one of her erstwhile companions at its end. There was Hana, slowly pulled apart by the giant tentacles as she screamed. The next path showed her Yates, eyes full of flame as his body burned from the inside out.

Slowly, the initial relief she felt at the lack of obstacles in her path transmuted into desperation. Why couldn't she help her companions? Self-loathing joined the mix of her emotions along with anger and fear. She couldn't stop though. She had to press on. She kept going, faster and faster. She had to reach the end of this torturous path soon. Surely she was close to its end now. With one last burst of speed, she broke into the open clearing at the end of the road and stopped dead in horror.

King Zachary turned to face her with Queen Estora on his arm. "Ah, our last faithful subject is here. Let the celebration begin!" A sickeningly joyful melody played in the background as everyone started to waltz. She stared at the royal couple, dumbfounded. Why had she been in such a hurry to leave everyone behind for this? Maybe it wasn't too late to go back and help them. She spun around to go back the way she came from, but a strong hand gripped her arm and spun her around. The king stared down into her eyes with a stiff smile. His eyes were terrifyingly blank. "It's too late now. You can't go back." Then he spun her around as the music reached a crescendo and Blackveil started to collapse on her.

Karigan startled awake with a pained gasp, sucking in breaths of cool air. She glanced around, noting the solid stone walls of Menders with a shaky sigh of relief. It was just a horrible dream. She was not in Blackveil anymore. She really was home in the castle. She sighed and lay back down. She realized hazily that she was still trembling a little bit with the aftermath of emotions caused by the dream, but she refused to think about her lost companions yet. She wrapped herself tightly in her blanket and fell back into uneasy slumber.

Golden sun poured over the castle, bathing everything in a warm light. Even the wind seemed gentle, only lazily playing tag with the pennants that normally snapped with ferocious energy in the gale buffeting the towers. The fields and orchards in the distance were burgeoning with new life. She leaned contentedly against the crenelations, smiling in the vivid joy that seemed to suffuse her all the time now. A brilliant light flashed across her eyes, momentarily blinding her, and she ducked away laughing. She already knew what she would see, but she shielded her eyes against the glare to see Zachary coming toward her. With every step he angled something he was holding in his hands to flash sunlight across her features.

"Stop that!" she protested, still laughing.

With a final defiant flash and an equally brilliant grin across his handsome features, he presented her the object with a flourish. She caught her breath despite herself, anticipation and joy warring within her. She reached out to grasp the handle of the silver-backed mirror he had commissioned for her years ago.

"Zachary," she breathed. It was obviously well-cared for; even after several years it was bright and untarnished. She could not seem to make her mouth form any other words, but she looked up at him hoping to make everything she was feeling clear to him. He seemed to understand her as he reached over to curl his fingers around hers. His own grin deepened to something softer and more passionate and he bent down to kiss her gently.

"I kept this for you," he said. "Every day that you were away from me, I kept this set safe for you. I knew that you would come for it one day."

She arched an eyebrow, not quite willing to let her playful mood go just yet. "And if now is not the time?" She softened the words with a smirk and a toss of her long braid even as she cradled the mirror against her chest.

Zachary noticed her possessive grip and simply smirked in return. "It's too late now. You can't go back." He stroked her face with both of his hands and leaned down to kiss her. This time, there was nothing gentle about his kiss and it seemed to go on and on as the sun burned the world around them in the heat of their joy.

This time when she jerked awake, Karigan did not bother to open her eyes to make sure she was still in the castle. The cold stone walls held nothing of the warmth in her dream and the woolen blanket, soft as it was, could not compare to the comfort of his arms around her. She stroked the blanket convulsively with her good hand, trying desperately not to cry again. I am so tired of crying. Even the thought seemed tired.

A light scrape against stone caught her attention enough for her to open her eyes warily. Before she had time to worry about what it was, a shadow slowly took shape near the door. In another second, her eyes focused enough to recognize the form as a Weapon. It was Brienne to be precise.

"You startled me," Karigan said, a little bit at a loss for words. Almost immediately, she felt herself flushing. It sounded stupid to her ears; she knew that if Brienne had not wanted to announce her presence, she would have stayed hidden and the Rider would have never know she was there.

The Weapon did her the grace of ignoring her embarrassment. They always did, but it never failed to make Karigan feel welcomed and included.

"I just finished my shift and I wanted to come see how you were," Brienne said. She came close enough for Karigan to see that her hair was in a little bit of disarray and her hands were scraped up and bruised.

Flashes of memory teased at Karigan. "You were the one that found us!" she exclaimed.

"I did not think you were aware enough to know who I was." The Weapon held a glass of water for Karigan to sip from. She forced her to sip slowly despite her parched throat.

"I didn't think so either," Karigan replied ruefully. "I didn't until I saw your hands." Exhaustion was pulling at her again, but she fought it. She did not want to go back to sleep if these nightmares continued to haunt her.

"Rest, sister-at-arms. We are watching over you." Brienne faded back against the wall, but remained just in sight.

The words formed a bulwark against the pall still clouding Karigan's mind after the dreams and with a sense of relief she let herself fall back into sleep. This time, she felt nothing except an inexplicable sense of belonging and a hint of wing beats. After a time, even that faded and she settled into a deep numbness that kept everything else at bay. At long last, there was no fear and no love. There was no pain or nagging sense of duty. There was only peace in the darkness and Karigan welcomed it with everything in her.

Fastion paused just inside the door to Karigan's room in Menders, leaning his broad shoulder against the frame. The casual posture concealed the tenseness he really felt. Karigan lay silent and still on the bed in the middle of the room, only the occasional rise of her chest showing that she lived. By this time, the Weapons and Riders had taken turns helping to clean the last of Blackveil off of her. No more grime smeared her face and all of the dried blood had been washed off. Even her hair had been untangled and brushed through with clean water. It all had to be done with the least amount of jostling possible. It was a shared effort between the two groups that showed the love and respect they all held in common for the injured woman.

Captain Mapstone was leaning on the opposite wall, absently thumbing the end of her braid. She glanced up once to meet Fastion's eyes and shook her head almost imperceptibly. There was no change in her condition then. The Rider was still unconscious and had shown no signs of awakening since the night Brienne found her and the Eletian beyond the tombs.

Twyla straightened up from her examination and gently smoothed the blankets down. After a couple of minutes of busywork, the mender finally glanced at Fastion then let her eyes meet Captain Mapstone's.

"I'm afraid there is no change in her condition, Captain."

The words felt like a blow. Fastion felt the tension leave his shoulders, but only a weary resignation replaced it.

"Frankly, if she does not wake in the next day or two, she never will. We are barely keeping her hydrated and her blood loss was severe. I am surprised she has lived this long. It is a testament to her tenacity." The mender shrugged helplessly. Her face was the smooth mask of one that had battled and lost to Westrion many times, but the faint grief in her eyes was genuine. "There is not much more I can do for her if she does not wake."

The Captain had lost some of the color in her face and her hand tightened perceptibly around her braid, but she simply nodded once, curtly. "Thank you, Twyla. I know you have done all you can."

Fastion shifted to let the mender pass by him then resumed his silent post at the door. The Rider's Captain watched Karigan for a long time in silence, seeming to fight some internal war. Eventually, her shoulders slumped and she started for the door. She did not seem at all surprised when Fastion fell into step next to her.

"I sent Garth to Corsa with a letter to her father a week ago," she said. The words were so soft that he almost did not hear them at all. He glanced down at her and saw her eyes well up with tears that she held back with years of long practice.

"Rider-Mender Ben?"

Her lips tightened. She knew he was aware of the argument King Zachary and Queen Estora had over Ben using his ability to try an help Karigan. Estora still felt that Zachary was too weak for Ben to risk using his ability on someone so badly wounded. Laren understood her perspective and reluctantly sided with her queen. Zachary had been appalled and enraged that they would consider letting someone die who had done so much for their country – let alone the woman he was in love with - without even trying to help her as much as possible. It was one of the few times that Laren had ever seen Zachary actually lose his temper and its fury had silenced both of them.

"Ben was not able to do very much," she finally said after a pause to consider her words.

"I was not there for the attempt," he said.

She understood his silent request for more information and weighed it another moment before shrugging in an unconscious imitation of Twyla's helplessness. "He said that he could not feel her presence the way he could feel the King's and that there was nothing for him to hold onto." She stomped grimly down the corridor, fingering her brooch. "I do not understand his gift at all, but he spoke truth."

It was unusual for the Captain to admit that she did not understand the Riders' gifts any more than anyone else did so Fastion simply nodded his thanks.

"Lhean left today," she said suddenly as they turned a corner into the main hall. "I cannot help but feel that if even the Eletian has given up on her recovering there really is no hope."

Fastion walked next to her, trying to convey a sense of comfort with his presence. "There is always hope," he said finally. "We will continue to watch over her, Captain. Karigan is a strong woman. She will come back to us." His words were smooth and confident. I know her will is strong enough, he thought. If only her body will hold out. He touched the Captain's shoulder lightly before leaving her at the throne room doors.