Amor Vincit Omnia

(Love Conquers All)

Part Two: The Fragile Heart

"But you see that I can sleep
I don't know just how you do it
Must be counting more than sheep
And it's time
For you and me
To leave this fairytale we fucked
'Cause we both need to breathe

And I know it's not enough
But your love is like a drug
You keep making that same ol' fool out of me."
- The Heavy
"Same Ol'"

Hello, dear readers! I'm back for another update (finally!) Hope that everyone's still hanging in there. :) Incidentally, sorry for any confusion regarding the chapter quotes for both this chapter and the previous one. The explanation is thus: I changed the original quote for Chapter 15 to the one currently on this chapter because I thought it was more appropriate, and then changed my mind and swapped it back again. I feel silly. :P

In other matters, there's a trigger warning in this chapter for a scene around the middle which could, in proper lighting, appear to contain a sexual assault. Vague, I know, but I'm just throwing it out there. You'll know it when you see it.

Hope you all enjoy! We're getting near the end of Part II ... :) Reviews are adored, as always!

Chapter Sixteen: Endless Days

Out on the wastes, one day was indistinguishable from the next, the long hours between sunrise and sunset streaking together into a blur of sweat-soaked, fevered moments. As food and water supplies dropped, tempers rose. Bickering began over the smallest of infractions. They had to stop playing cards in the evening after dinner, their only distraction, because Kormac kept accusing Lyndon of cheating but couldn't figure out how he was doing it.

The heat and famine rations affected them all in different ways. Caesar became argumentative, Eirena depressed, Lyndon surly, and Baal withdrawn. Kormac started talking to himself in his native tongue, but only when he thought the others weren't paying attention. Ghor was the only one whose personality remained constant; this hostile terrain, after all, was not far removed from her native land.

Everyone had one thing in common, however: they were all deeply concerned about Saiya. She almost never spoke, except to Kulle, and when handed food at mealtimes would sit and look blankly at it unless someone told her to eat, as if she had forgotten what food was. She seemed to dwell in a state of perpetual confusion: addressing people by the wrong names, wandering around in the middle of the night, and occasionally making remarks or asking questions so bizarre that no one knew quite how to respond.

"It cannot be the wound she received," Ghor said privately to Baal one evening. "That has healed completely. It is something else, and I have my suspicions. She had not been herself since she took Kulle's spirit into her body. I believe that he has corrupted her."

Baal went very still. "How do you mean, corrupted? Do you mean she's been possessed?"

"Not exactly," said the sangoma, choosing her words carefully. "Think of Kulle as an infectious virus. Her body knows that he does not belong, and it is rebelling against his presence. I am afraid that if we do not take steps to remove him, her psyche will be damaged beyond recovery."

"Then we perform an exorcism, whether Saiya wants it or not," Baal growled. Ghor laid a cautioning hand on his shoulder.

"It is not so simple as that. If we force his spirit from her body, we could cause even more damage. It would be better if we could persuade him to leave peacefully."

"Persuade him? I'd kill him if he wasn't already dead!"

"Precisely the problem. Threats are ineffectual."

He sighed. "What would we do without you, Ghor? You're a scholar in the midst of fools. Alright, we'll do it your way, but we have to act fast. I don't know how much longer I can stand seeing her like this."

Ghor seemed pleased with his acceptance – or perhaps with the compliment, it was difficult to tell. "Here is the way of it," she said. "We need Kulle. Kulle needs a physical form. Therefore, we need to find someone else that he can inhabit. I would offer my own body, but I am afraid that my loa would consume any spirit that tried to possess me. She is very … protective."

"Kormac would never agree, even for Saiya's sake," Baal mused, "and I hate to ask Lyndon or Eirena. Well, if there's no other way, I suppose it will have to be me, though I don't know how I'll bear his voice inside my head."

"Such a martyr."

Baal jumped. He'd been so focused on what Ghor was saying that he hadn't noticed the mage approaching from behind.

"Fuck off, Caesar," he growled, with a touch of his old acerbity. "Can't I have a private conversation?"

"Aren't you forgetting about someone?" Caesar replied, ignoring him.

"What?"

"You didn't count me in your list of prospective hosts, despite the fact that I am the most logical choice. I'm a magic-user and male, so Kulle should naturally feel more comfortable with me. In addition, I actually admire and respect his works, unlike the rest of you."

"That's what worries me," Baal muttered. "You're far too eager."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I've heard you talking to him. Asking him all about his methods, trying to flatter him so he'll tell you some tricks of the trade. You're playing a dangerous game, mage."

Offended, Caesar drew himself up to his full height, staring down his nose at the other man. "You don't think I can handle him."

"I think you underestimate him," Baal corrected. "You see him as some kind of revolutionary hero, fighting the angelic oppressors for the rights of humans. Well, if humans are so precious to him, why did he kill so many for the sake of his research?"

"A necessary sacrifice for the greater good," Caesar replied, though he did not sound entirely confident.

"Listen to yourself!" Baal snapped. "A necessary sacrifice? I'm disappointed in you. You of all people should know the dangers of taking experiments too far."

Caesar paled, his lips pressing tightly together until his mouth was nothing more than a slash across his face. "I won't tolerate this from you, Baal," he said at last. "You think now that you have some insight into my past that you have the right to make personal remarks like that? Try to use my mistakes against me? You have no idea what you're talking about."

Baal held the wizard's gaze just long enough to show that he was not intimidated. Then he said, "You're right, that was unfair of me. I'm sorry."

Caesar clearly hadn't expected an apology. He nodded uncertainly. "Yeah, well … are we going to do this or not?"

"We don't have much choice," Baal said, bitterness thick in his tone. "I'd still rather it not be you, Caesar, but if you insist-"

"I do."

"Then let's get it over with." He walked over to where Saiya was sitting on her bedroll, staring at her hands. The others were nearby, putting the finishing touches on supper, but Baal could tell that Kormac was keeping a surreptitious eye on the young monk.

"Saiya," he said softly, crouching down in front of her. She started and flashed him an entirely unconvincing smile.

"Hi, Lyndon. Is the food done?" When he stared at her, the smile faltered and was replaced by a look of vague distress. "Oh, sorry. Did I get the wrong name?"

Baal felt an ache deep in his chest. "Don't you know who I am?"

"Yes, of course." But her eyes were still unfocused, brows furrowed slightly, and after a few moments her gaze drifted back to her lap as if she'd forgotten he was there. Baal snapped his fingers in front of her face.

"Saiya, I need to talk to Kulle. Can you let me do that?"

Her head bobbed up and down. "Sure. Go ahead."

The Hunter glanced around, somewhat at a loss. Caesar, who'd come up behind him, said, "Let me. Zoltun, are you there? Answer if you can hear me."

Saiya's eyes rolled back in her head, and when she spoke, her voice came out raspy and distorted. "What do you want?"

"Bastard! What have you done to her?" Baal hissed, clenching his hands to keep them from reaching reflexively for his crossbows.

"I have done nothing," said Saiya-who-was-not-Saiya.

"Then why is she like this, godsdamnit?"

"You think this is my doing? You short-sighted fool, I'm the one keeping her alive."

Baal was shocked into silence; it was Ghor who answered, "Explain yourself, Kulle. Keeping her alive how? What ails her?"

"Have you ever heard of a 'neurotoxin'?"

"Yes," said Ghor. "It is a particular kind of poison that affects the mind rather than the body, causing brain function to degenerate. In high enough doses, it can cripple mental ability for life, or even kill."

Saiya nodded jerkily, like a puppet on strings. "Correct. You're a clever one."

"Are you saying that Saiya's being affected by this poison?" Baal cut in.

Another nod.

"That would explain her odd behavior of late," Caesar said. "Could it have happened when she was bitten by the serpent? Ghor's medicine might have only worked on a physical level."

"It is possible," said the witch doctor. She fixed Saiya with a keen gaze. "And you are helping her fight against the effects?"

"You could say that. I have insulated certain core memories and personality traits from the toxin's spread. In other words, I am preserving the very essence of who Saiya is. If you exorcise me – don't look so shocked; did you really think I was ignorant about what you were planning? – there will be nothing to hinder the poison. Even if she lives, she will likely lose all her memories, and perhaps be rendered an imbecile."

"Tell us how to fix it, then, since you seem to know so damn much!" Baal snarled.

"I don't know for certain," the sorcerer replied, "but I think that if we can get to my laboratory in time, I can save her. It will not be easy, but there is a procedure which should, if performed correctly, extract the toxin."

"Well, where is your laboratory?"

Kulle simply caused Saiya to shrug. Baal found his reticence infuriating.

"What do you mean? How can you not know?"

"In order to protect its sanctity, I had to keep its location a secret, even from myself. I know only that it is somewhere in this desert, perhaps even under the very sands on which we now stand. It is accessed by a portal, which moves every few days. In the past, I had an amulet that allowed me – and only me – to teleport directly to the entrance, but I'm afraid that it was lost when the Horadrim murdered me. What they did with it, I have no idea."

"So basically," Baal said, "if we want to save Saiya, we have to wander around this fucking enormous desert until we get lucky enough to stumble upon your magic door. Is that accurate?"

"Yes."

"Fuck!" He buried his face in his hands.

"Is there nothing else we can do?" Caesar asked Ghor. Regretfully, the sangoma shook her head.

"I do not have the knowledge to treat such an illness. It seems to me that for the time being, we must rely on Kulle."

"I just hope it'll be enough," muttered the Hunter.

Baal had first watch that night – a task which was more tedious than difficult, considering that under the silvery moon, he could see clearly for miles. He sat a little ways off from camp so that the sound of him tinkering with his bows wouldn't wake anyone, and marveled at how his life had fallen apart. Barely over a week ago, he had been making love to Saiya in the showers at the Hidden Camp, full of adoration and certain of their love for each other. Now he could barely look at her without feeling as though his heart had been torn out and repeatedly stepped on.

His agony was twofold. On one hand, he hated the helpless feeling that came with watching her sink into a slow decline, dying before his eyes, when there was nothing he could do to save her. There was no enemy he could slaughter, no amount of his own blood he could give, to make her well again.

Just as painful (and in some ways more so) was the fear that even if they managed, by some miracle, to get to Kulle's laboratory and Saiya recovered, that she wouldn't want to be with him anymore. The words she had spoken during their argument, before she had been injured, circulated through his brain like a snake eating its own tail: "You know, Baal, I don't half wonder sometimes who's the real demon."

Those words had cut him to the bone, all the more so because he was secretly terrified that they were true. Whatever justifications he gave for his line of work, he couldn't deny that killing demons brought him a sick pleasure that ate away at his ability to feel lighter emotions, gradually eroding his humanity. There was a reason that demon hunters lived in exile, emerging only when they were needed. With Saiya, he had allowed himself to hope he had a chance, that there was something in him worth redeeming, worth living for, but that was a foolish fantasy. A blind man's last desperate attempt to see.

He knew his purpose in life, and it wasn't a happy one.

It was moments like this that he missed Gawahir the most. The faithful bird had always sat with him during the long, dull hours of guard duty, cracking nonsensical jokes and cheerfully mocking him. Baal wished that he at least knew what had become of his feathered friend. He would have liked to think that Gawahir had found a pretty mate somewhere and settled down to raise chicks, but he was positive that the raven wouldn't have simply deserted him.

Movement in his peripheral vision caught his eye, and he tensed for a moment before relaxing again. It had come from the direction of the camp. Turning his head, he saw a shadowy figure approaching. From the scent, he could tell it was Saiya even before the moonlight revealed her face.

Baal watched her warily, unsure if she was lucid or not, but to his surprise she made eye contact with him for the first time in days and said, "Mind if I join you?"

"Uh, sure." He moved his crossbows to make room for her. She sat down beside him, hugging her arms around her raised-up knees and resting her chin on them as she gazed serenely out over the vast expanse of wasteland. She seemed content with silence, and Baal made no attempt to start a conversation, though he did take advantage of the opportunity to scrutinize her, drinking in every precious, excruciating detail. Her features had sharpened since he had met her, made gaunt by months of harsh living. Her skin had bronzed under the desert sun, while in contrast, her pale blonde hair had been bleached even whiter. Gods, she was still beautiful, but she was also strange and distant: not his Saiya at all, but some mythical creature. She looked so fragile, like she would break apart if he touched her.

"I know things haven't been great between us lately," Saiya said presently, "but I want you to know that I still care about you very much."

Baal frowned. The words were stilted and spoken without feeling, and he wasn't quite sure how to respond. He said, "Do you even know who I am?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, Baal, I do."

"Just checking. You've been a little … off lately."

"We all have," she replied. "It's this place, I think. It's driving us all slowly insane."

"No one else has been mixing up people's names," Baal pointed out. Saiya gave him an annoyed look.

"Would you rather I go?"

"No! This is …" He struggled for some way to adequately express himself. "Look, I miss you. I miss our friendship, I miss being able to touch you and laugh with you and … shit, Saiya, I even miss arguing with you. Anything is better than this - this void. We were so close and now I feel like we're strangers. I-"

His impassioned speech was cut off as Saiya abruptly surged forward and tackled him to the ground, kissing him as if her life depended on it. Baal's hands went instinctively to her waist, pulling her fully on top of him, pressing their hips together as their tongues mingled feverishly. Saiya squirmed and bucked against him, uttering needy little moans that set Baal's famished senses afire. He could feel himself hardening way too quickly for his own comfort.

"Stop … stop!" he panted, disengaging his mouth from hers. "Saiya, slow down."

"Why?" she growled seductively. "Aren't you enjoying this?"

"Yes … gods yes, but … ah … I think we should talk first."

"Screw talking. I want you, Baal. It's been so long." Her hand gripped his erection through his pants, squeezing ruthlessly, and he moaned. It felt amazing … and totally wrong. She had never been this aggressive before, and to his shame, he found it alarming and exciting in equal measures. He wondered if this abnormal lust was a side effect of the neurotoxin, and whether he should tell her about it. He decided not to. If she was in her right mind (which he was not at all sure of) then it would only cause her unnecessary distress. If she wasn't, she probably wouldn't even understand.

Saiya's hands were scrabbling at his shirt, ripping the fabric in her haste to get it off. He grabbed her wrists in a firm grip, holding them in place. She began to grind her crotch against him instead, and the friction on his ultra-sensitive skin briefly caused his vision to white out. His self-control was hanging by a thread; it was all he could do not to roll her over and take her right there. The only thing stopping him was the knowledge that this was not Saiya, and that having sex with her while she was in this condition would be taking advantage of her, little better than rape.

"Saiya, please," he groaned. "Don't do this to me. Saiya-" His pleas faltered as she leaned down and buried her face in the crook of his neck, taking a mouthful of his skin between her teeth and sucking gently. Baal's eyelids fluttered shut, and his body involuntarily relaxed. He had never been able to resist a kiss there.

But then, just as all his honorable intentions were about to fly out the window, Saiya bit down on his shoulder hard enough to break the skin. He gasped aloud, instinctively shoving her away. Shadows swam before his eyes; a mixture of pain and sexual arousal had always been a trigger for his darker nature – a fact that Vera had always loved to exploit – and he fought hard not to succumb to the rush of violent desires that overtook him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he spat.

"What's wrong with you?" she countered. "I thought you liked that sort of thing."

If he had needed any conclusive proof that she was not herself, that was it. The sweet and innocent girl that he loved would never have believed that, would never have said it to him even if she had.

"Get away from me," he rasped. "Just go."

"Fine, I will!" she cried, eyes blazing. In the background, their companions were beginning to stir, wakened by the noise, but Baal was too angry to feel embarrassed. He got to his feet, one hand clamped over the bleeding bite mark, and began to walk away.

"I know what this is really about!" Saiya yelled after him. "I know all about you and Leah."

Leah? he thought, confused, but didn't stop to ask her what she was talking about.

"I hope the two of you are happy together!"

"Baal?" Caesar and Kormac were approaching, their movements uncoordinated with sleep. "What's going on?"

"Keep an eye on her," the Hunter said brusquely as he pushed past them. "I'm going to take a walk."

The wizard caught his arm. "Hey. Are you okay? What happened?"

"Nothing." He didn't feel like explaining. "I just need some space, okay? I'm fine. I'll be back in about an hour. Just don't let Saiya out of your sight."

"Alright, I won't," Caesar replied in a soothing tone. Turning to Kormac, he said, "Why don't you take the rest of Baal's watch? You were up next anyway, weren't you? I'll deal with this."

The young monk was on her knees, shoulders hunched and shaking with sobs. Caesar helped her up and guided her out of hearing distance, where he gripped her chin in his fingers and forced her to look at him. There was blood on her mouth, and his heart froze for a moment at the thought that the Hunter had struck her, but she bore no marks of abuse. Then he recalled the way that Baal's hand had been positioned over his neck, and the situation became disturbingly clear.

"What happened?" he murmured. When she glanced away, her lips tightly shut, he said, "Hey, Saiya, it's me. Caesar. You can trust me. What's been going on between you and Baal?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"If you won't talk to me," he persisted, "will you talk to Ghor? What about Kormac? Look, I know you value your privacy and ordinarily I wouldn't intrude like this, but I can tell that something's really wrong here. I've seen the two of you argue before, and you've never been like this. So what is it?"

"He's in love with Leah!" The confession spilled out of her like floodwaters breaking through a dam. A storm of tears followed closely, forming tracks of clean skin in the dust masking her face. Caesar stared at her in bewilderment.

"Saiya, that doesn't make any sense. Why would you think that?"

"Kulle told me," she said. "He read Baal's mind, and he told me that Baal thinks about her constantly. Why would he say that if it wasn't true?"

"I don't know," Caesar admitted, "but I still don't think you should just blindly accept it as the truth. I've never seen any evidence, during the whole time that I've known both of you, that Baal is attracted to anyone other than you. I just don't buy it."

"But Kulle said-"

"Maybe he was mistaken."

Saiya said nothing. Caesar wrapped an arm around her shoulders and said, "Come on, love. Let's get you back to bed." He kept a warm smile on his face as he guided her to her bedroll, but his heart was heavy and his thoughts burdened by worry.

The following day – the sixth since leaving the oasis – they consumed the last of their food stores. Water was dangerously low as well, only a single full flask, and a few sips of another, to share between the seven of them. Lyndon remarked (with what everyone hoped was dark humor) that if their current situation lasted much longer, they would be forced to kill and eat one of the group. He even went so far as to recommend Kormac, as the largest: a suggestion which the Templar did not find amusing.

The seventh morning dawned grey and bleak, without even the comfort of a rosy sunrise. They packed up camp in silence, broken only by the rumble of their empty stomachs.

"I'm so hungry I could eat my boots," Eirena groaned as they began to walk. She glanced down at her soft leather footwear as though seriously considering it.

"Hell," muttered Caesar, "at this point I'd settle for demon flesh, if it was well-cooked. Think Belial will send any more minions after us? Grilled snake sounds pretty appetizing right now."

He took another step and felt the ground split suddenly under his weight, plunging downwards with a yelp of surprise. Thick black liquid closed over his head, clogging his nose and eyes and creeping unpleasantly into his ears. It was too fluid to be mud, but not the right consistency for water. The wizard flailed around in a blind panic, sinking deeper, his groping fingers finding no edge of rock to catch hold of.

A hand seized his hair, dragging him painfully upwards. As he broke the surface, coughing and spitting, more hands latched onto his arms, hauling him back onto dry land. Ghor said, "Lyndon, give me your flask."

"No, don't waste it!" protested the rogue. "That's all we've got!"

She simply held out a hand, and after a moment, he reluctantly unclipped it from his belt and passed it over. Ghor pulled the stopper, upending it. A thin, cleansing stream trickled down over Caesar's face, washing the grit from his eyes and lips. He sat up, blowing his nose on the sleeve of his coat.

"What on earth?" he gasped.

"Quicksand," said Baal. "There are deposits of it out here in the wastes. Pretty rare, but it looks like we were lucky enough to stumble across one."

"Lucky?" grumbled the mage. "I nearly drowned."

"Yes, but now we have water." He stripped off his shirt and used it to scoop up a handful of the soft muck. The closely-woven fibers acted as a sieve, straining out the sand and debris and producing a cloudy, evil-looking water, which the Hunter captured in his flask. Soon they were all copying him, using whatever garments they could spare. It was a painstaking process, but worth it when all the flasks were refilled.

"Is it safe to drink?" Kormac asked dubiously, making a face as he smelled the product of their labor.

"Should be," Baal replied. He took a swig and grimaced. "It tastes like shit, though."

Caesar stared at the jagged hole in the seemingly solid ground that had nearly marked his grave. He would never have known it to be different than any other patch of sand in this godscursed hell pit.

"How deep is that stuff, anyway?" he asked.

Baal shrugged. "No one's ever bothered to measure it. Shall we be off?"

As the sun began to heat the air, their clothes dried stiff and crusty, the sand flaking off in clouds. No one was more unhappy about this than Caesar, who complained of minuscule grains in his scalp, underneath his collar, and between his toes.

"I hate the desert," he griped. "I hate the heat. And I really, really hate sand. The instant I get out of here, I am going somewhere cold and mountainous, and I'm never going to leave."

"Good," said Baal, "because-" He trailed off, staring into the distance with a slight frown on his face. Eirena tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, are you alright? Baal?"

"Is that …? Does anyone else see that?" the Hunter muttered. Caesar followed the line of his finger and saw a black speck in the sky, circling around a rock formation.

"Looks like a bird," he said. Baal's breath hitched in his throat.

"Gawahir!" he exclaimed, and took off at a dead run before any of his companions could react.

"What's he talking about?" Saiya asked, speaking for the first time that day.

"His raven's been missing since we left the Oasis, Schwesterchen," said Kormac, a mild rebuke in his tone. "Have you not noticed?"

The young monk shook her head, something like shame drifting briefly across her features. Caesar said, "Why are you all just standing around? We should go after him."

Baal had a fairly good head start on them by this time. As he neared the rock pillar, they saw him stop and draw both crossbows as the airborne shape was joined by several others.

"Scheiße!" hissed Kormac, breaking into a jog. Caesar and Ghor joined him, while Lyndon, whose weapon had the best range, dropped to one knee and sighted along the barrel.

Three of the hawks were dead by the time they arrived, and a fourth was hopping on the ground, shot out of the sky by a well-aimed bolt from Lyndon. Kormac finished it off with a swift blow from his spear.

"There was no need for you guys to come charging over," Baal grumbled. "I was doing fine on my own." He fired off another volley of arrows, all of which missed their targets.

"So I see," Caesar said dryly, arching an eyebrow at the projectiles' upwards trajectory. His skeptical expression vanished as they reached the height of their reach, turned gracefully in the air, and plummeted back to earth point-first. The two hawks that were still in flight, wary only of threats from below, were torn to shreds, their plumage scattering in bursts of crimson. Baal grinned smugly.

"Told you I had it handled. Flying foes are my specialty."

"I thought it was demons," Caesar quipped. "I guess we'll have to change your title to 'Pigeon Hunter', then."

"Hey, some demons fly too. And pigeons aren't the only variety of bird."

Kormac had lifted one of the dead hawks by its neck and was examining it like a butcher in a marketplace. He said, "These could be good eating, if we manage to start a fire."

"Yes," Ghor agreed, "perhaps we should make our camp here, in the protection of the rock. Nightfall is a ways off yet, but I think a rest would do us all some good."

No one argued the wisdom of this suggestion, and before long Caesar and the women had gone off foraging for wood, while Kormac and Lyndon plucked and cleaned the carcasses. Baal was occupied in reclaiming as many bolts as he could find, as his supply was beginning to dwindle, and Lyndon's were too large to fit in his crossbows.

Kindling was scarce, and in the end there was only enough for a thin blaze, barely enough to heat water, let alone roast flesh. Discouraged, they were about to give up on the idea of having a meal that day when Eirena suddenly said, "What about eggs? There might be a nest up in the rocks up there."

The pillar rose to a height of about twenty feet, with a thickness of ten at the base, tapering to a narrow spire. There was a ledge halfway up, and it was decided that one of the women would stand on Kormac's shoulders, and climb up from there. Eirena's hand was still healing from the acid burns, and Saiya was particularly vague and unsocial that evening, so the task fell to Ghor. She proved to be an agile climber, using her fingers and toes to cling, spider-like, to the rock face. In minutes she was out of sight on the ledge, and a cry of excitement followed soon after.

"There are four!" the sangoma announced, peering over the lip of stone with a pleased grin on her face. "I am coming back down, though I will have to go slowly."

She began her descent with the precious cargo cradled in a makeshift net under one arm. Partway down, however, a chunk of rock broke free under her weight and she lost her balance, falling backwards. Caesar moved to catch her, but Kormac was already there, bracing himself. Ghor landed in his arms with a soft thump, the eggs clutched safely to her chest.

"Thank you, rafiki," she said as he set her upright again. The Templar frowned.

"What does that mean?" he inquired. "I hear you use it sometimes when you talk to Caesar or Baal."

"It is the umbaru word for 'friend'," Ghor explained.

"Friend?" Kormac repeated. "You think of me as a friend?"

"I do," she confirmed.

"Even though my faith demands that I abhor you and the voodoo arts you practice?"

Ghor nodded. "Yes, even so."

"But how?" he asked. "I don't understand. We should be enemies."

The witch doctor regarded him with inscrutable eyes. "When first we met, did you hate me?"

"Yes." Kormac hung his head, as if the admission was embarrassing to him. Caesar sneered at his foolish prejudice, ice itching beneath his fingertips, but a stern glance from Baal held him in check.

"And do you hate me still, after knowing me all this time?" Ghor asked.

Kormac's face twisted. "No," he said, "I do not. How could I? You've saved all of our lives so many times. I know that you would never use your magic for evil."

"You have changed," said Ghor. "Is it so difficult to believe that I have also changed, to view you as a friend rather than an enemy?"

Leaving the stunned westerner to contemplate her words, she handed the cache of eggs off to Lyndon, who lost no time in cracking them into the frying pan, supplemented by some shreds of raw meat that were small enough to cook thoroughly. The resulting meal wasn't much when divided into seven portions, but it was enough to stave off the vicious hunger that was gnawing at their guts.

There was still plenty of light in the sky when they were finished eating, but no one could muster the energy to get up and move again. They sat like flaccid statues, motionless and silent, staring blankly at each other: a group of lost souls, cast adrift in a sea of emptiness. They were gaunt, filthy, covered in dust. The men were starting to grow beards, some at a faster rate than others. Kormac and Lyndon had nearly an inch, while Caesar's grew in patchy and meager. He despised it, having no tolerance for facial hair in general, and especially not the unregulated scruff that Baal seemed to prefer.

Presently, the rogue suggested a round of cards, and everyone (with the exception of Saiya) was either more than willing, or too bored to refuse. The game, Nine Kings, was simple yet strategically challenging: each player drew from a deck of fifty-nine multi-colored cards – ten each of red, green, blue, black, and white, and nine 'king' cards. Once all the players had nine cards in hand, the game commenced, with each person choosing in turn to draw a card from the deck, trade cards with another player, or bide their time and do nothing. At no point could anyone have more than nine cards, and if someone ran out completely, they had to forfeit. It was entertaining for a while, and Ghor came close to winning with seven of the nine requisite kings, but then Lyndon, who had the other two, took all seven at once with a surgical precision that suggested he'd known exactly where they were the whole time.

"I know you're cheating!" Kormac protested, throwing down his king-less hand in disgust. "You must be; you always win."

"I'm a favorite of Lady Luck," replied Lyndon, with a grin.

"No one gets lucky fourteen times in a row."

"Oh, you've been counting?"

"You're damn right I have. And it all adds up to one conclusion: you're cheating. When I find out how, by God, I'll string you up!"

Lyndon held up defensive hands, saying, "Now now, death threats will ruin any friendly game. Have you considered that I win simply because I'm good?"

"Good at a game of chance?" Kormac asked scathingly.

"My dear fellow," said Lyndon, "if you think it's a game of chance, that explains why you continue to lose."

They retired to bed shortly after that, and Kormac took first watch, muttering sourly about certain unscrupulous people. Soon the camp was full of gentle snores and deep breathing. Only Saiya lay awake, her very bones thrumming with restless energy. She felt as though she was on the edge of a great precipice that was crumbling beneath her feet.

-You feel it too.- Kulle's voice was strong in her mind, drowning out even her own heartbeat.

"Yes," she whispered. "I feel it. What does it mean?"

-There is magic nearby. The air is thick with it, a surge of arcane energy. You are feeling it because my presence increases your sensitivity.-

"Demons? Are we about to be attacked?"

-No,- said Kulle. -It is the portal to my laboratory. We have found it at last … or rather, it has found us.-

"The portal to your …" She sat bolt upright. "Everyone, wake up! We have to go, now!"

Baal was up within seconds, both crossbows at the ready. He said, "What? What, what is it?"

"The portal," Saiya gasped. "Kulle says it's here."

He glanced around. "Where? I don't see it."

-It's here.- Kulle insisted. -On the other side of this spire. Hurry! We don't have long!-

They dressed in the dark, fumbling to pack up their bedrolls and gather any scattered belongings. Saiya led the way around the pillar of rock, feeling more alert than she had in days.

Sure enough, the portal was directly in front of them, shining like a beacon in the night. The swirling tendrils of magic emitted a low-frequency hum, barely audible to the human ear: this was what Saiya had felt.

"Kormac and I will go first, to check if the coast is clear," said Baal. "Caesar, you follow with Saiya after an interval of half a minute. Lyndon, bring up the rear with the ladies."

"With pleasure," said the rogue, gallantly offering his arm to Eirena. Kormac looked as though he was about to protest, but Baal seized him by the arm and stepped into the vortex of the portal. They vanished.

"Are you ready?" Caesar asked Saiya in an undertone. She nodded, taking his hand, and counted off the seconds. When the time was up, they went together. The desert trembled before Saiya's eyes, the very air disintegrating into particles of light. A rush of dizziness swept over her. When her head cleared, her first panicked thought was that she had gone blind, for she could see nothing at all but blackness.

-Kulle?- she said sharply.

-Relax, girl,- the sorcerer replied. -Saying 'isiqlari yandirmaq' will ignite the spell-lights.-

Saiya repeated the phrase. Immediately, red flames flared in nearby sconces, illuminating Caesar's face in an eerie glow. The others were nowhere to be seen; the wizard looked as confused by their absence as Saiya felt.

"Where are Baal and Kormac?" he asked, glancing around as if he expected them to jump out of the shadows and say, 'Boo!'

-They must have landed in a different section of the archives,- Kulle said smoothly. -It can happen, especially with a portal as old as mine, and in such disrepair. I would not concern myself if I were you. No doubt they are in fine health.-

"Kulle says they're probably fine, just in another part of the lab," Saiya reported. "Portal malfunction, apparently. I guess we'll have to look for them." She examined her surroundings with a curious eye. "So this is your home, huh?"

-Insofar as I had one, yes,- said the ancient sorcerer. -Impressive, isn't it?-

Saiya had to admit that it was. The underground fortress was dug into a natural cavern, cunningly built so that it was difficult to grasp a sense of scale. Walkways of black stone stretched in all directions, lit by the crimson fires and connected by bridges of flowing sand. Above and below, the distance stretched into unknown shadowy depths.

"This is amazing," Caesar whispered. "What vision he must have had!"

Kulle spoke, and Saiya snickered. "He says he's still alive, so don't talk about him in the past tense."

"Sorry," muttered the wizard, blushing slightly.

-By the way, I should inform you about the defenses.-

"Defenses?"

-Yes. For the purpose of protecting my experiments, I created mechanical sentries. Some of them should still be operating, even after the Horadrim's little invasion. And before you ask, no, there is no way to deactivate them. They are programmed to attack everyone except for me.-

"Great," Saiya groaned. Turning to Caesar, she explained, "We might be attacked by mechanical sentries, so watch out."

"Right. Which way do we go?"

-Straight ahead,- declared Kulle. -I will guide you. Ah, it is most pleasant to return here at last, after so many years. It all comes back to me now. Yes, straight ahead, and then a left at the crossing.-

Saiya soon lost track of how many turns they had taken. She tried her best to recall the route, in case she should need to travel it again in reverse, but all of the walkways and rooms looked the same. Did the one with all the bookcases (Caesar had nearly prostrated himself on the floor begging to be allowed to stay a while and look at them) come before or after the one with the strange glass tubes that seemed to be filled with lava? The last room had had a table covered with bones, that much she remembered. They had been unmistakably human.

It wasn't long before they ran across the sentries that Kulle had warned them about. There were two different types: stationary turrets that fired magical blasts, and spider-like constructs of metal. Fortunately, Caesar's ice magic was more than adequate for dealing with both kinds. A single ray of frost was enough to seize up the delicate mechanical workings, and they were able to pass through the halls unscathed.

-We draw near the soulstone chamber,- Kulle announced at last.

"About time," Saiya said. "Caesar, we're almost there."

"I wish that Ghor was here," grumbled the mage. "Well, I'll just have to do my best."

She was just puzzling over the oddity of that statement when a rush of weakness suddenly came over her. Her legs slipped out from underneath her, spilled her awkwardly to the side. Caesar caught her just in time, his cry of alarm registering only as a faint drone in her ears. She blinked hard, trying to keep her focus, but the world was rapidly fading before her eyes. Her final thought before unconsciousness claimed her was of Baal, and how much she wished she could see him one last time.

What did you think? I'd love to hear your thoughts, praise, criticisms, and anything else you care to say! :)