Amor Vincit Omnia

(Love Conquers All)

Part Two: The Fragile Heart

"I'm searching for a whole new beginning
An endless void
This notion that I sense within me
You're still by my side

Oh, I feel your presence
You'll never leave here
But when I reach out there to hold you
Every part that's real disappears

As I become more present now
I can't see through the pain"
- Ludvig Forssell
"A Phantom Pain"

Sorry, dear readers, I know that the wait for this chapter was brutally long. I had a lot of trouble with it; nothing seemed to want to coagulate well, and I ending up throwing out several drafts. I hope the finished product is up to par ...

I'd just like to note that there is a love scene (consensual this time, thank goodness!) somewhere around the middle of this chapter. Enjoy! *eyebrow waggle* Also, a great thank you to all the lovely people who reviewed last chapter! Your patience is outstanding! To the guest who wrote in, I greatly appreciate your kindness and I'm sorry that I wasn't able to respond in person to let you know how much longer you'd have to wait.

Chapter Eighteen: Nephalem Blood

Though the distance was short and his aim was true, Baal hadn't really intended for his arrow to strike. Therefore, it was not surprising when Caesar warped to a spot about twenty feet away, leaving the bolt to land quivering in the wall where his head had been moments before. What was a surprise was the fireball that came speeding towards him from the mage's outstretched hand. He narrowly managed to dodge it.

"Careful, Brother!" Kormac called. "We don't know what he can do now."

Baal nodded wordlessly, circling to the left. Ordinarily, he would be feeling a surge of bloodlust by this point in a battle, but there was no red tinge to the world now. Rather than excitement, he felt dread. His combat style was not suited to non-lethal victories, but he couldn't slay Kulle without killing Caesar as well, and that was not something he wanted to do. Perhaps a month ago – or even a mere week, he thought guiltily – he would have been willing, accepted it as a necessity and thought no more of it, but now …

Kulle sent another couple of flaming globes his way in rapid succession. He rolled out of the way, returning fire to keep his opponent busy while he racked his brain for ideas. He had a few elemental arrows left; perhaps he could freeze the wizard until Ghor could be located?

"You're a fool if you think you can overpower me, boy." Caesar's voice echoed around the arena, never in any one place for longer than a few seconds. "This body's potential surpasses even mine. I've never seen such vast reserves of arcane power!"

"You're joking, right?" Baal yelled back. Keep him talking, keep him distracted. "He can't even control his own spells half the time!"

"He needs honing, like any good weapon," replied Kulle. "In my hands, he could be a god among men. There are no limits to what we could accomplish together."

With a soft snap, Baal finished fitting the frost bolt into its slot and cocked the bow. "If you're finished jerking off," he said, "why don't you come down here and fight? I don't have all day."

Caesar materialized behind him, and he vaulted forward to avoid the onslaught of fireballs. Kormac charged from the side, but a wave of the wizard's hand sent him flying. Baal turned and leveled both crossbows at his opponent.

"Your arrogance will be your downfall, boy," Kulle sneered, spreading his hands wide.

"Look who's talking!" Baal shot back. He unleashed a stream of regular arrows from Thaqib, the smaller of his two weapons, named after the comet that had appeared in the sky on the night of his birth. Kulle whipped his hands around in a sweeping gesture, conjuring a whirlwind that splintered the wooden projectiles like matchsticks.

"Is that all you've got?" he bellowed over the roar of the gale. "Pathetic!"

"Think again," Baal muttered, letting fly with his other bow. The heavier bolt, reinforced with steel, cut a path through the tornado's heart, exploding as timed just before it could pierce Caesar's chest. The wizard's face was captured in a comical expression of surprise, a thin veil of ice cloaking him entirely. Baal grinned smugly and turned to see if Kormac was alright.

The ice around Caesar exploded violently outward, showering the floor with shining crystals. A beam of red light lanced from his hands and struck the Hunter in the stomach before he could even think of evading. He doubled over from the force of the blow, gasping in pain. There was a smoking, fist-sized hole in his vest and shirt. The flesh beneath was scorched, and he knew he would be in agony later, when the shock wore off.

"Baal!" Kormac shouted, struggling to his feet.

"I'm alright," Baal responded tightly. He kept one hand pressed hard against the wound, aiming Thaqib with the other and returning fire. Clearly something a little stronger was going to be needed to subdue the possessed mage.

Caesar's eyes had rolled back in his head, only the whites showing. His skin seemed almost to glow with an excess of magical light. He glided towards them, feet several inches above the floor. As he drew nearer, he raised his hand and brought it sharply down again, and a shockwave rolled forth, similar to Saiya's bell but smaller and more concentrated. Baal dove to the side, cursing as the action tore further at his injured abdomen.

Caesar lifted his hand again, and this time there was not enough time to escape, nowhere to go. Baal fired a stream of bolts at the figure above him, but they disintegrated in the air. There was a loud click as his bow ran empty.

Fuck, he thought, is this how it ends? I never even got to tell Saiya I'm sorry.

"Over here, you bastard!" roared Kormac. The wizard turned to look in his direction, and he hurled his spear. It, too, burst into a blaze of light as soon as it neared its target, but the momentary distraction had given Baal enough time to scramble to a safe distance. He checked his quiver: three arrows remaining, not nearly enough for the task at hand.

"Kormac, run!" he cried. "Just get out of here! There's no way we can win!"

Kormac shook his head. "No, Brother, I won't leave you."

The spell lights were suddenly extinguished, bathing the arena in total darkness. The only thing still visible was Caesar, whose purplish aura stood out like a beacon. Then, as Baal watched, he disappeared for a split second and reappeared flinching, as if he'd been struck.

The wizard winced again, staggering to the side from an unseen blow. Almost immediately he recoiled in the other direction. This time Baal was sure he caught a flash of movement, a mere flicker of shadow.

A whisper in his ear: "What is it?" Kormac had come up beside him in the dark.

"I don't know," Baal replied, "but it seems to be an ally."

Three more attacks, and Caesar crumpled to the ground, his aura fading. The lights came back on, causing Baal to shield eyes that had just begun adjusting. He blinked rapidly to clear his vision.

"Saiya!" Kormac exclaimed joyfully. "You're all right!"

There she was, standing gloriously tall despite the weariness that Baal could read in every line of her face. She met his eyes and smiled, and it was such a beautiful, sweet, uncomplicated smile that he could have wept. Instead he grinned wordlessly back at her.

"Whew!" the young monk exclaimed. "I think seven is about my limit, though with practice, I might be able to do more. Are the two of you okay?" Her eyes drifted to Baal's midsection, and she drew in a sharp breath. "You're hurt!"

"It's nothing," he said. "A surface wound. What about the idiot mage? I trust you haven't killed him?"

"He's fine. I was careful." She raised an eyebrow at him. "It's unusual for you to be so concerned about him. Wasn't he just trying to kill you?"

"Technically, no," said Baal. "That was Zoltun Kulle. And Caesar and I have developed a … uh, let's call it an 'understanding'."

"So Kulle left me and possessed Caesar," Saiya mused. "Why?"

"He wanted to use you as a sacrifice, Schwesterchen," said Kormac. "He needed one more Nephalem to make the black soulstone work."

By this time, Ghor, Lyndon, and Eirena had come down the stairs to join the others. The sangoma was crouched over Caesar, checking his pulse and raising his eyelids. Saiya came over to Baal and deposited her pack on the floor next to him.

"Sit down," she ordered. "I'm going to have a look at your stomach."

He gave her a mock salute. "Yes, my lady." It was absolute torture not to touch her as her fingers nimbly undid the clasps of his vest and pulled his shirt over his head. She leaned in close to apply ointment to the burn mark, the fringes of her hair tickling his bare chest, and his mind instantly moved her head a little lower. Lust made his vision swim, but he pushed it ruthlessly away. This was not the time.

"How are you?" he whispered.

"I feel fine, actually," she responded, not looking up from her work. Her tone sounded normal enough. "I don't remember much about the last week, though," she continued.

"The neurotoxin?" Baal said. "Or was that just an invention of Kulle's meant to distract us from his real purpose. Agh! That stings!"

"Sorry." Her lips brushed his navel, and his heart skipped a beat. "Is that better?" she asked, innocently.

"Yeah, that's better. Gods, I've missed you, Saiya."

She looked up at him, her smile abruptly dropping away. "I've missed you too ... I think. Lyndon says that we haven't been getting along."

Damn him, Baal thought crossly. He has no right. To Saiya, he said, "That's unfair. You haven't been around to get along with."

"You're not angry with me?" she murmured.

Baal thought about it. He was, in fact, furious, but not entirely with her. He chose his words carefully. "A lot of shit has happened, and we need to talk about it, but the most important thing – to me, anyway – is that you are yourself again. Everything else is just details."

"Then … you still want to continue our relationship?" she asked. Baal could tell that she was trying very hard to keep any form of pressure out of her tone, but her eyes brimmed over with hope.

"Yes," he said firmly. "My feelings for you haven't changed, Saiya. I love you."

"Ahebbouka," she whispered back, with a shy, self-conscious smile. Baal grinned in return. No one would ever mistake her for a native speaker, but she had obviously been practicing, and his heart was warmed by the knowledge that she cared enough to at least try to learn his language. He got to his feet, slowly, and took her hand.

"Come on, nuur il-'en. Let's join the others."

Meanwhile, Ghor had been preparing to perform an exorcism rite on Caesar. A fire had been built: strange green flames which fed on a single piece of wood without consuming it. The witch doctor had painted her face with symbols in white, and was kneeling by Caesar's limp form, rocking back and forth and chanting, "Roho wa Zoltun Kulle, nakuamuru! Kwa nguvu o mbwiru eikura , nakuamuru! Kwa damu hii na mfupa kwamba si yenu, nakuamuru!" After every repetition of the word nakuamuru, she passed her hand through the fire, and the blaze leapt a little higher each time.

Her voice rose to fever pitch, an unearthly wail. The blood drained from Kormac's face; he turned his eyes away. Ghor placed both hands in the flame, cupped as though to draw water from a stream, and brought them to her lips. A fragment of fire flickered between her palms. She swallowed it, and her eyes burned green.

"Nakuamuru kuondoka!" she cried. Something subtle changed about Caesar's face. His slack features changed without moving, so that for a moment, the jagged outline of Kulle's countenance overlaid them.

From her pack, Ghor retrieved what appeared to be a live snake, which Saiya recognized as the mojo she had been working on back at the Hidden Camp. She blinked in surprise, thinking, I could have sworn that snake was dead last time I saw it!

Carefully, Ghor held the mojo to Caesar's lips, the deadly fangs hovering mere fractions of an inch above his mouth. The viper hissed wickedly. Kulle's ghostly image seemed to be drawn upwards into its open maw like smoke escaping through a vent.

"This will take some time," said Ghor. Beads of sweat stood out on her forehead, despite the chill. "The spirit's influence is strong."

"Perhaps we should go and try to rustle up some food," suggested Kormac, in a strained tone.

"I'd rather stay here," replied Eirena. "This is fascinating!"

"I'll go with you, Kormac," Saiya said.

Lyndon volunteered as well, and Baal wanted to go, but the young monk insisted that he stay and rest. She took sinful pleasure in the vexed expression he wore, recalling the countless times that he had done the same to her.

The three of them searched the archives for a little over two hours without finding a single edible thing, save for some casks of grain which had obviously been stored for hundreds of years. Some had been ruined by damp and others by rats, but they found one barrel that still looked promising, so they brought back several handfuls and used the last of their water supply to boil it up. The result was a meager bowl of grayish grain with a rather musty flavor that persevered even through the addition of salt.

Caesar woke shortly after dinner was finished. He was physically unharmed, save for a few lovely bruises, but his grip on reality was tenuous at best. Like Saiya, he was suffering from amnesia, except that in his case, the entire few hours of his possession had been wiped clean out of his memory. When he was informed what had happened, he was horrified.

"Why didn't you put a bolt through my head the minute you suspected?" he asked Baal. "I could have killed you!"

"Believe me, I tried," grumbled the Hunter. "You're tougher than you look, mage."

Caesar's eyes fixed on his bandaged midsection with anguish. "How bad is it?" he asked.

"The healers have given me three days to live," Baal said solemnly. At the stricken look that crossed the wizard's face, he rolled his eyes and said, "I'll be fine, you idiot. It's just a scratch."

Caesar recovered his composure. "What a shame," he said.

"The important question," interrupted Saiya, "is what we're going to do about the black soulstone now that Kulle is out of the picture."

All eyes turned simultaneously to the object in question, which was still mounted on the top of the sphere where the sorcerer had placed it. Lyndon murmured, "Wonder what that beauty's worth? Must be a fortune …"

"Don't even think about it," Kormac growled.

"Yeahhh," said Baal, a frown taking hold of his features. "About the soulstone …"

"What about it?" demanded Caesar. "We have it, don't we?"

"Yes, but it's not going to do us any good if we can't complete it. As much as I hate to say this, Kulle was kind of right."

Saiya stared at him. "What are you suggesting?"

"A sacrifice." Caesar's voice was harsh, his hands balled into fists by his side. "That's what he's talking about. One of us is going to have to die so that Belial can be defeated."

"Well, don't look at me!" exclaimed Lyndon, placing a conspicuous hand on his crossbow. "You can leave me out of your noble plans."

"Don't worry, Lyndon," Baal sighed. "Your unworthy blood wouldn't work anyway. It requires a Nephalem."

The rogue burst into laughter. "A Nephalem? You've been duped, my friend. There is no such thing!" When no one said anything, his chuckles trailed off. "Wait … you mean-"

"I am a half-child," said Ghor. "My mother is the High Priestess of my tribe, and my father is Uriel, the Angel of the South Wind. It is tradition among our people that our priest or priestess mates with an angel, to preserve the bloodline. Each successive generation of Nephalem is purer than the last. Eventually, our offspring will be restored to their true glory."

"Okay," said Lyndon, grudgingly. "I can see how you might be part angel, Mistress Sangoma. But surely no one else-"

"Me." Caesar raised his hand.

"Supposedly, I am as well," said Baal, "though I have no idea what my parentage might be."

Saiya bit her lip. "I'm also a Nephalem. I didn't want to believe it at first, but it's true."

As each of them spoke in turn, Lyndon's eyes had grown wider and wider. Now he shot a sideways glance at Kormac and Eirena, who both shook their heads. "Did the two of you know about this?" he asked.

"I knew since I first met them," replied Eirena. "It was obvious!"

"I've suspected for a while," admitted Kormac.

"I don't believe it!" Lyndon threw up his hands in apparent disgust. "Not one, not two, but four bloody half-children – no offence, ladies – and I've been traveling with you all this time completely unawares! This takes the cake! If you told me right now that fish walk on land, I'd be forced to take you at your word."

"But do we really need the soulstone?" Caesar asked, moving the conversation back to its original topic. "There must be other ways of defeating Belial."

"The difficulty does not lie in defeating him," said Baal, "but in making sure that he stays defeated. We owe it to our world not to half-ass this."

"So we find another way of completing the stone. One that doesn't involve a godsdamn human sacrifice."

"There isn't time!" Baal hissed. "We've been gone for over a week now. Who knows what Belial's been up to in our absence? We could return to find Caldeum in ruins and all its people dead because we waited too long – out of cowardice! We must act now!"

Saiya glanced from Baal to Caesar to Ghor and could not imagine life without any of them. They had all become so dear to her: closer than friends, the only family she had in the world. If they had been in combat, she would never have hesitated to throw herself in front of them to prevent a killing blow.

"I will do it."

Saiya's mouth closed with a snap. She had been on the verge of volunteering, but Ghor had spoken first. There was no change in the older woman's placid demeanor, but her eyes were very bright.

Caesar cried, "No!" with raw panic in his tone. "No," he continued, shaking his head. "You have so much to live for. Think of Jahaira, think how she'll feel if you don't return. She'll wait for you forever, you know that, she'll grow old waiting for you. Let it be me. I don't have anyone like that."

"That's got to be the most pathetic thing I've ever heard, mage," Baal drawled. "I have a feeling that if we offered you, the stone would reject on principal. Besides, I rather fancy being a martyr. So good for one's image."

"Absolutely not," Saiya cut in, crossing her arms and drawing up to her full height for maximum authoritative effect. "We need your expertise to deal with Belial. You are the only demon hunter among us, after all. I should be the one."

"Nonsense," argued the wizard. "You're one of the most powerful members of the group. You were even able to deal with me once Kulle had pushed my body into ex imperium. If anyone is needed in the fight with Belial, it will be you."

Well," said Baal, "since we've conclusively proved that we're all willing to die, I think what we really need is some impartial way of judging who it will be. Drawing straws, for example." Plucking two of his remaining three bolts from the quiver, he removed the heads and feathers and snapped them in half, leaving one part shorter than the others. These, he handed to Lyndon.

"Why me?" inquired the rogue.

"Because I trust you the least," grinned the Hunter. "You don't consider yourself part of the group and have no particular ties to any of us, so you're not likely to rig the draw either for or against any one person."

"So glad I could be of assistance," Lyndon muttered. He rolled the arrow shafts around to randomize the positions and placed his left hand in such a way that the bottoms were concealed, making them all appear to be the same length.

"One at a time, or all at once?" he asked.

"All at once," Baal replied. The other Nephalem gathered around. At Baal's signal, they each took hold of a 'straw' and pulled it out of Lyndon's grasp.

"Who got the short one?" Eirena asked anxiously.

"I did," said Baal.

No one could sleep that night. Baal had decided that the ritual should take place at dawn (though precisely when that would occur was anyone's guess, as they had no way of telling time within the unchanging archives). He sat for a while in front of the machine that would claim his life, meditating, while the others huddled in unified misery on the other side of the chamber. Eirena wept openly. Absurdly, Saiya felt a bitter envy for her easily shed tears. She herself felt nothing but numb cold, as though she had been immersed for too long in freezing water, her pain locked inside an iron cage.

Eventually, through sheer exhaustion, most of the adventurers slipped into a kind of stupor. Kormac leaned back against the wall with Eirena's head pillowed on his lap; Ghor and Caesar curled up together. Only Lyndon stayed awake, playing solitaire by the light of the lantern.

It was then that Saiya rose like a ghost and crossed the room to kneel at Baal's side. He turned to look at her, a small half-smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

"It's funny," he said, "but I've spent hours thinking about my death, and I wasn't afraid until just now. I don't want to leave you, Saiya. I just can't see any other way."

"Baal." It came out as the tiniest of sobs. She leaned into him, resting her forehead in the crook of his neck, feeling the hollow there that was made for her.

"I'm sorry, nuur il'-en," he whispered, running his fingers through her tangled, filthy hair. "I'm so, so sorry." Then he twisted awkwardly to kiss her temple, and suddenly she needed him with a desperation so fierce that it took her breath away. She got to her feet, pulling him with her, and led him out into the corridor.

"Take me, please," she whispered.

"Now? Here?"

"Yes." She guided his hands to her breasts, held them there. Baal gulped.

"I don't-"

"Please, I … I can't stand … this will …" Her voice failed her. The Hunter's eyes lit with understanding, and he kissed her passionately, his tongue slipping over hers. He was already hardening as he pressed his hips into her, kindling a fire in her belly that she hadn't felt for days.

Their movements were fumbling, hasty, urgent. Unwilling to take the time to strip fully, Saiya hiked up her armored robe, while Baal undid the buttons of his trousers. He pushed her up against the wall, standing flush at her back with her legs spread wide enough to admit him. With very little warning, he pushed into her. At that angle, the penetration was deep, almost painfully so, but Saiya merely lifted her hips to allow him better access. She wanted him, wanted the sharp stabs in her core that accompanied his every thrust, wanted his bruising grip on her waist, his harsh pants and throaty growls. This was not lovemaking, it wasn't even sex. It was pure, animalistic fucking. It was, Saiya thought, how their ancient ancestors would have mated before going into battle, rutting in the grass with the knowledge that the next day might be their last. It was bare and powerful, and when he came and filled her, she knew that her life had been altered forever, and that she would never be quite the same for what she had experienced.

Baal pulled out and braced himself on the wall, his arms trembling with exertion, his chest brushing her back. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he murmured.

"A little," she answered, truthfully. At his remorseful groan, she said, "It's all right. It's what I needed. Thank you." The unspoken thought crossed her mind that if his seed grew in her and she bore a child, at least she would have something left of him to love. It was poor consolation, but some comfort nevertheless.

His fingers slipped between her slick folds, found the little nub of pleasure that dwelt there, and began to massage her with a steady back-and-forth motion, as though he was beckoning to her. Leaning his cheek against hers, he whispered in her ear: "You're so beautiful, Saiya, you're so perfect, my darling, love of my life, light of my eyes." And when she finally tipped over the edge into bliss and sank limply into his arms, he kissed her over and over, saying her name like a prayer.

Afterwards, they stood close together, arms around each other's waists, heads lightly touching. They said nothing. There was nothing to say, no words that would give more meaning to what they had done, what they were about to do. Baal just looked at her. Saiya clung to him, trying not to cry because she knew that it wouldn't do any good, and would only cause him more pain.

At last, he said, "I'm ready. Let's get it over with."

"Do you want me to get the others?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No. I won't make it any harder than it has to be. Tell them … they were all great friends and great people, and I'm proud to have known them. Tell them I said 'thanks'."

Saiya felt herself nod, her natural reflexes taking over. Baal grasped her hand and they walked back into the room where the machine was kept. Standing before it, Saiya allowed herself one brief moment of hope that perhaps he wouldn't be able to figure out how it worked, but the Hunter calmly planted his feet on two separate platforms and gripped a lever on the side of the sphere.

"Kulle did us the favor of powering it up," Baal explained in response to Saiya's inquisitive look. "And there are instructions in Kehjistani written on that panel over there. Once I pull this, the final connection will trigger and my essence will be transferred into the black soulstone. That should be everything you need. Get back to Caldeum as quickly as you can. Adria should be able to tell you what to do after that."

She couldn't speak past the lump in her throat, so she nodded again, brusquely.

"Good luck, nuur il-'en," said Baal. "I'm so glad that I met you."

"I'll never forget you, Baal!" the young monk blurted out. "I'll love you and think of you until the day I die. I …" She couldn't hold back the tears any longer; they spilled over and poured down her cheeks, searing her skin. "I don't want you do this," she sobbed, broken and hurting worse than she'd ever hurt before. "I … won't you let me take your place? I don't want to go on without you!"

"Not a chance," he replied, firmly but not without compassion. "You have to live. Dying doesn't seem so bad as long as I know you'll be okay."

"But I won't!" she protested. "Baal, how could I-"

"Yes, you will. You're brave and strong – the strongest person I know. You'll be a hero of this war against evil, and an inspiration to every man, woman, and child in Sanctuary, just as you are to me. And someday, when enough time has passed, you'll find a man who makes you happy again, and you'll have children who'll be holy terrors, and you'll live to become the sort of grumpy old woman who goes around hitting young people over the head with her cane and starting every sentence with, 'Back in my day-'. And all that time, I'll be watching you from the High Heavens and telling everyone who'll listen that I knew you back when you no more than a lanky, overgrown child."

Hearing the words that had so offended her when they had first met, Saiya couldn't help but smile. Baal grinned back at her – a strained, haunted grin, but genuine nevertheless. He moved as if to pull the lever, and Saiya's heart stopped beating, but he paused and glanced back at her.

"Hey," he said, uncertainty flitting across his features. "Do you think I'll meet my father? My real father? I mean, he's got to be up there, right?"

"I'm sure of it," Saiya murmured. A look of peace came into his eyes, and he took firm hold of the lever handle once more.

"STOP!" cried a voice from the other side of the room. Saiya and Baal both jumped in surprise. Caesar was hurrying towards them, eyes wild and strands of hair escaping from his normally immaculate ponytail.

"Don't do it, Baal!" he exclaimed, skidding to a halt.

The Hunter narrowed his eyes. "What the hell, mage? It's already been decided. We're not arguing about it."

"You cheated," Caesar said accusingly.

"What?" cried Saiya. "Is that true, Baal?"

Baal didn't reply. Caesar said, "It's true. I didn't see it at first, but when I was looking at the broken arrows, I noticed that the short one was marked. He was the only one who could have done it."

"You can't prove it was intentional," said Baal, crossing his arms.

"I don't have to."

"Oh?"

"No," said the wizard. "It doesn't matter anymore, because I found a better solution to this problem. There's another Nephalem."

Baal's gaze sharpened into interest. "Who?"

"Zoltun Kulle," announced Caesar.

"And you're absolutely sure that he's a half-child?" Baal repeated.

"Yes, he told me so. I didn't remember, but then it came back to me." They had returned to the others, who had all been roused and were sitting in a circle, blinking owlishly and yawning.

"But Kulle's gone," said Eirena. "I mean, isn't he? His spirit was exorcised. I saw the snake-thing eat it."

"Exorcised, yes," Ghor smiled, "but not gone. The nyoka is not powerful enough to fully consume a lifeforce as vast as Kulle's. He is merely contained for a while. Eventually he shall escape."

"So that's it!" said Caesar, slapping his knee. "We'll put him back in his own body – fulfill our original bargain with him – and then use his essence to get the soulstone working. Do unto him as he would have done to us. It's a perfect plan!"

"Except for one thing," Baal said. "To revive Kulle, we'll need his head, which is in the Hidden Camp. Do you really want to haul his dusty corpse all the way there, bring him back to life, and then drag him back here, alive and kicking and no doubt fighting us all the way, so that we can sacrifice him? It's a cumbersome notion at best."

Caesar shrugged. "I'll just teleport."

"Over such a distance? Without a wand? You'll kill yourself."

"Nonsense!" protested the mage. "I once warped a hundred miles with ease. True, I did have a wand at the time, but I'm sure that I'm capable of this. Please," he added, "it's the least I can do after all the trouble I've caused." He looked pointedly at Baal's bandages.

"And if you fail?" Saiya asked. "What then?"

"I won't fail."

Unexpectedly, Baal nodded. "I believe you. In fact, I think it's the only chance we have to fix things. All the same, I'm coming with you."

"That will only make it more difficult," Caesar warned him.

"If you miss your mark, or pass out on arrival or something stupid like that, you're going to need someone around to watch your back. Either I go, or you don't."

"Fine," the other man sighed.

"Good. When do you want to leave?"

Caesar stood decisively. "Now's as good a time as any." He held out his hand, and Baal took it rather awkwardly.

"Wish us luck," he said.

Saiya rose and kissed him chastely on the lips, then turned to Caesar and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Be careful, both of you," she whispered. The other echoed her sentiments; even Lyndon offered a salute that was only half-mocking. Frowning in concentration, Caesar began weaving his teleportation magic, beads of sweat forming on his forehead. A cocoon of blue light built around them, growing brighter and brighter until, with a flash, they vanished.

"I hope they'll be alright," Eirena fretted.

"I'm sure they will, meine Teuerste," replied Kormac, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"We'd better hope so, for our sakes," muttered Lyndon. "How long do you think we'll make it out here with no food or water, if they never come back?"

Saiya glared at him. "Not helping."

"I'm just saying-"

"Not helping, Lyndon. They'll come back. I know they will."

It seemed to the anxious adventurers that hours passed by, though in reality it was no more than thirty minutes or so before a shimmering portal appeared suddenly from thin air and Baal stepped through, alone. Leah was right on his heels, looking much the same as the last time they had seen her, if a bit wearier. She beamed at them, however, saying, "Hey, everyone! It's been a while!"

"What are you doing here?" Saiya asked. She'd intended it as a simple question, motivated more by curiosity than anything else, but it came out sharp and suspicious. Baal frowned at her, but Leah didn't seem bothered.

"I came to help, of course," she said. "Mother should be right behind us."

Sure enough, Adria came through the portal moments later, closing it behind her. The beautiful witch surveyed the ragtag group with a look of unmistakable distain, which she veiled behind a thin smile.

"So," she said, "here you all are. Looking a little worse for wear, I see."

You try wandering through the desert on starvation rations for a week with only a murderer to guide you, and see how good you look, Saiya thought spitefully.

Ghor said, "Where is Caesar?"

"He's okay," replied Baal. "He lost consciousness as soon as we arrived, just like I suspected might happen. Arcane depletion. I won't lie to you – it was pretty serious, but Adria gave him an emergency transfusion of her magic, and she says that he'll pull through."

Saiya scrutinized him narrowly, but saw not even a spark of the malicious pleasure he ordinarily took from any injury to his rival. Perhaps, she mused, he really had meant it when he said that they'd reached an understanding. On the surface, they appeared to squabble just as frequently, but all the viciousness had gone out of it. If anything, it seemed to be fun for them.

"Do you have Kulle's head, witch?" demanded Kormac.

Adria regarded him as she might a persistently annoying fly. "Yes, Templar. Leah?"

The girl produced the object in question from the satchel she wore over her shoulder, handling it with obvious distaste. The head had been wrapped in white cloth so that the features were obscured, which Saiya thought was quite a relief. She wasn't sure yet how she felt about the man who had subverted her and done his level best to kill her, but she knew that she'd prefer not to have to look at him.

"And the body?" Adria inquired, arching a thin eyebrow.

"Back in the experiment chamber," said Baal, jerking his thumb in the indicated direction.

"Well then, I suggest that somebody go and fetch it. I will wait here." With a flick of her staff, a comfortable-looking chair materialized. She sat down on it, elegantly crossing her legs.

"Impressive!" Eirena breathed. "I can only create the illusion of material items."

"Child's play, my dear," replied Adria.

Leah settled down in a cross-legged position at her mother's feet, reminding Saiya of a faithful dog. The young monk felt irrationally irritated with both of them, though she could not have said precisely why, and decided that she would be much happier doing something productive.

"Come on, Kormac," she said. "Let's go get Kulle."

Her friend blinked in surprise. "Me, Schwesterchen? I would have thought that Baal-"

"-should be resting," Saiya finished, giving her lover a pointed stare. He shrugged uncaringly.

"I dislike all this witchcraft, Sister," Kormac confessed as soon as they were out of earshot of the others. "It gives me shivers up my spine and sets my nerves on edge."

"I thought you were getting past all that," Saiya said. "You've been so tolerant of Ghor lately."

"Oh, it's not her I mind," said the Templar. "Her voodoo is strange and sometimes frightening, but I know that she would never use it for evil. No, it's Adria that worries me. I don't trust that woman."

"Neither do I," Saiya admitted, "but we have no choice but to rely on her for now."

Kormac broke stride for a moment to regard her with keen eyes, as though she were a puzzle he was trying to solve. "Forgive me for prying into something that's none of my business, but you and Baal … have you patched things up between you?"

"Yes, we have," she said.

He nodded. "Good. I'm glad to hear it. It didn't feel right, to have the two of you not on speaking terms."

"Well, it's over now." Sensing that he wanted to ask something more, she patted his arm. "What's on your mind, Kormac?"

"You can read me like a book, little sister," he said with a rueful smile. "I just wondered how you're doing after Kulle … you know, what he did to you."

"Possessed me."

"Yes." There was a faint redness to his cheeks. "I've heard that possession can have similar affects on a person's psyche to … well, to a physical assault."

"Uh …"

"To … to rape, actually."

Saiya's eyebrows shot up. "Kormac," she said, "are you asking me if I feel like I've been raped?"

"I was worried about you, that's all," he muttered defensively. "Especially after what you went through in Antham … I just wanted to make sure you're alright."

"That's very sweet of you," said Saiya. "I appreciate your concern, I really do. If it makes you feel any better, I don't remember very much about it. It's all kind of a blur."

This pronouncement did not, in fact, seem to make Kormac any happier, but at least he stopped asking awkward questions. They traveled more or less in silence until they reached the room where Kulle's body lay. Kormac picked it up and slung it over his shoulder.

"Well, Schwesterchen," he said, "I suppose we must return."

By the time they rejoined the group, Adria had drawn an elaborate pentacle on the floor using the blood from the urn they had retrieved in the desert cave. She instructed Kormac to lay the corpse in the center of the symbol, placing the head in its proper position.

"This is potent magic that I am about to wield," cautioned the witch. "I am not to be disturbed during the spell. Is that understood?"

"Quite well, ma'am," said Eirena, politely. The others nodded in agreement, retreating to a safe distance. Standing at the head of the cadaver, Adria started chanting in a deep guttural voice. Saiya did not recognize the language. Unlike Ghor's voodoo, which was fascinating to watch, this horrified her in a way she didn't really understand. She felt as though worms were crawling under her skin. A sideways glance at Kormac revealed that he was even more affected; his face had turned grey, and he was mumbling a holy prayer under his breath.

"This is ancient, forbidden magic," Baal whispered in her ear. "She's speaking Incaentic, the language of the demons."

"I thought you said that no human could speak that," Saiya replied in an undertone.

"Not without accepting some very questionable pacts. The only other person I've ever heard use that cursed tongue was Maghda."

"Well, they were close," Saiya pointed out. "It stands to reason that they'd share similar powers. What's she saying, by the way?"

The Hunter rubbed his chin. "It's going by too quickly for me to make out everything, but the gist of it seems to be a plea to the gods of the underworld to return life to Kulle's body."

"Do you think it'll work?" asked Lyndon.

Leah said, "It'll work. I have full confidence in Mother's ability. She's been teaching me lots of things since you all have been gone."

Saiya glanced at her, and the unsettling notion suddenly sprang into her mind that Leah was up to no good. How odd of me to think that, she scolded herself. I've no reason at all to distrust her. So why do I have this weird intuition that there's something wrong?

Baal elbowed her in the ribs. "Why the sour face?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, blushing at being caught out. "Uh, nothing."

"Look!" cried Eirena. "It worked! The spell was successful!"

Kulle's body was writhing around, flailing like a gutted fish. Adria shouted, "The spirit, now, before he tears himself apart. Hurry!" Ghor rushed forward and unceremoniously shoved her mojo into the soulless sorcerer's gaping mouth. Kulle slowly relaxed, sliding limply to the floor. He groaned.

"Quick, get him to the machine before he fully regains consciousness," Baal instructed. Kormac and Lyndon each seized hold of one of Kulle's arms, dragged him over to the sphere, and deposited him roughly on the platforms. The Hunter pulled the lever, taking care to touch no part of the mechanism.

Immediately, the concentric rings around the sphere began to spin, and a loud hum filled the air. A look of panic twisted Kulle's features, his eyes bulging and mouth forming a soundless plea for help. Something in Saiya ached at the sight, despite all the harm the man had caused her. She felt as though they were the monsters for executing him in this fashion.

Apparently she was not the only one who thought so. Eirena uttered a strangled whimper and turned her face into Kormac's waiting shoulder. The Templar himself looked like he was going to be sick.

"Don't look," he rasped. "It'll be over soon."

An inhuman scream burst from Kulle's throat and he collapsed forward into the machine, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. The corners of Adria's mouth turned up in a smile of grim satisfaction. Using Kulle's back as a platform, she reached up and removed the black soulstone, which now glowed with inner fire.

"It is done," said the witch.

* The words in Ghor's exorcism ritual mean: "Spirit of Zoltun Kulle, I command you! By the power of the Unformed Lands, I command you! By this blood and bone that is not yours, I command you! I command you to leave!"