Amor Vincit Omnia

(Love Conquers All)

Part Two: The Fragile Heart

"This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images are raised
Here they receive
The supplication from a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star."
- T.S. Eliot
"The Hollow Men"

So ... I really did intend for this to be the final chapter, but as it got longer and longer, I started to realize that I was going to have to split it up, lest I end up subjecting you all to an ungodly behemoth. Therefore, this is not-quite-the-end-but-almost. Enjoy! And if you leave a review, you get my adoration for the rest of time! :D

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Shadows Lengthen

She landed hard on her back on a flat, cold surface. For long minutes, she could do nothing but stare up at the clear sky above her, unable even to comprehend what she was seeing. It seemed that blue was an impossible color, existing only in a distant memory; that she was still falling, that she had always been falling, and always would be; that her life had been swallowed up in green mist.

"-ya!"

Who was she? Recalling anything was a struggle. Her body hurt from fighting. She had been fighting … something. Something dangerous. There had been others with her. Crimson eyes. A white cloak. A whirlwind of ice.

"-aiya!"

Why couldn't she remember? There were bits and pieces, scattered like grains of sand across her barren mind. A child – a boy – small and vulnerable, sitting on a throne far too large for him. A woman in red stooping to drink from an ornate well. Fire raining down upon a city in the desert. And above all, a looming shadow that filled the sky, blotting out the sun and moon and stars.

"Saiya, wake up!"

A gasp filled her lungs with bright, fresh air, and she blinked, feeling like a veil had been lifted from her vision. The shadow was gone. A familiar face was hovering over her, eyes wide in concern.

"Leah," she murmured, her voice coming out rough and rusty, as if she hadn't spoken in a hundred years.

"Are you okay?" the girl asked. "I've been trying to rouse you for ages, but you've just been lying there with your eyes open. I thought at first you were dead!"

Laboriously, Saiya began to sit up. Leah put a hand on her shoulder to assist her. Once she was more upright, she could see that she was in the Fair-Weather Court. Amazingly, the palace around them was intact.

"What happened?" Saiya groaned. "The last thing I knew, Belial had pulled us into some sort of alternate dimension. I fell …"

"It was only an illusion," Leah said. "Mother and I came out to help you once Asheara was out of danger, and we found the court deserted, with dead snakes lying everywhere. Then Tyrael appeared out of thin air! He was in a trance just like you, but once he shook it off, he explained what had happened. He wanted to go back and assist you, but none of us could figure out how to enter the illusionary world. We all just had to hope for the best."

"Did we … win?"

Leah smiled. "See you yourself." Her finger pointed to Adria, who was standing a little ways off, examining a small object that floated in the air. It looked like a spark of light, or flame, but it was surrounded by a nucleus of swirling darkness.

"What is that?" Saiya asked. She thought that she should probably know the answer already, but her brain wasn't working properly. She felt very stupid.

"It is Belial's essence," replied Adria, without looking at her. "His soul, if you will. It cannot truly be extinguished, but in his weakened state, I should have no difficulty imprisoning him in the Black Soulstone. You did good work, girl. I must admit that I am impressed."

But Saiya was not interested in the witch's praise, however rare it might be. Turning to Leah, she said, "You mentioned Tyrael, but what of the others? Baal and Caesar … are they alright?"

The smile dropped from Leah's face. "Baal is fine," she replied, guardedly.

"And Caesar?"

"I'm sorry," Leah murmured. "I'm really sorry, Saiya. I know how much-"

Saiya forced herself to her feet, fingers digging harshly into Leah's shoulder as she used the other woman as a prop to rise. Leah winced, but she allowed Saiya to lean heavily on her while she gathered her strength and balance. As soon as she could move on her own, she stumbled across the court to where Baal sat, his back resting against a potted palm, Caesar's head in his lap. Ghor was bent over her fallen friend, chanting a spell. There was a frantic edge in her tone that Saiya had never heard before.

That can't be good, she thought, dread knotting her stomach. If Ghor is afraid, then it must be serious.

Baal glanced up at her approach, and Saiya jerked to a halt, unable to believe her eyes. The Hunter was crying. His red-rimmed eyes locked with hers, and there was so much anguish in them that Saiya's heart failed. She dropped to her knees beside the witch doctor, who was so intent on her spell that she didn't appear to notice the intrusion.

Caesar's face looked incredibly peaceful, despite the awful pallor of his skin. Someone had wiped his mouth clean. With his lips slightly parted and his dark lashes fanned out over his cheek, he looked as though he could be sleeping. But the veins in neck were black with corruption, an evil-looking web spreading across his throat and jaw. Brushing her fingertips over the skin there, Saiya found it burning hot.

Ghor stopped chanting and looked at Baal, whose hand was spread palm down over the wizard's chest. "Anything?" she asked.

"No," said Baal. It came out ragged and sore, like a wound.

Ghor closed her eyes. "Then I fear it is too late."

"It can't be!" Saiya cried. "You saved Asheara! Why can't you save him?"

"The poison was allowed to work unchecked for too long a time," said Ghor. "It is already in his bloodstream, in his heart."

"Move aside," Saiya ordered. "I'll try the mantra that healed Baal." Ghor readily relinquished her place, and the young monk leaned over until her forehead was touching Caesar's.

"Naoru …" she murmured, pouring all her fearful hope into the word. "Tengoku no iki … itami o yawarageru … fukugen suru sei … seicho suru tsuyoi … moichido." She waited for the holy energy to fill her, but when it finally came, there was very little of it – a trickle rather than a flood. She had spent too much in the final assault against Belial.

It isn't enough, she thought wearily, but she gathered it anyway and, placing her lips gently over his, released it in a single breath. Then she sat back watched intently for any signs of life.

But there was no change, no pulse of life at the wizard's throat, no stir of movement in his still face.

Anger flooded through Saiya's veins, mordant and hot. She would not accept it. She would not permit Caesar to die, not without a fight. "Leah was injured like this once," she snarled. "We didn't give up on her! You called up the spirit of a bat, and it sucked the corruption from her blood. Remember?"

"I tell you, it is too late!" Ghor shouted. Saiya recoiled in shock; never before had the umbaru woman lost control of her temper. But her wrath drained away just as quickly as it had come, leaving her face hollow and worn. "We do not have enough time," she said. "Leah still breathed when I summoned the damu mnywaji. But Caesar's spirit has already slipped away from us, into the Unformed Lands where we cannot follow."

Saiya frowned in puzzlement. "Why would he go there? Human souls ascend to the High Heavens when they die. I know this to be true, because I've been there, but I was able to return. If I could do it-"

"Caesar will never enter the Heavens," said Ghor, with a quiet finality. "By his own choice, he turned his back on his birthright. The Diamond Gates are forever closed to him."

Baal, who up until now had been silent in his grief, said, "What do you mean?"

Ghor was about to answer, but Saiya interrupted. "Does this have anything to do with that failed experiment he alluded to, the one that got him exiled from the Thaumaturgy Guild?"

"I cannot say," Ghor replied. "It is not my story to tell."

"But you do know."

"Yes," she said. "I do."

"Ghor," said Baal, reaching out to take her hand, "what are you afraid of?"

"I am not-" she began, but her voice faltered.

"You said that we couldn't follow him, but that isn't exactly true, is it? You could."

Her black eyes grew wide with alarm. "It is forbidden," she whispered.

"But that hasn't stopped your predecessors," said Baal. "I know of a high priest who entered the Unformed Lands and returned again."

"Then you also know of his wretched fate, and why I cannot … why I dare not do the same."

"This is Caesar we're talking about," Saiya said. "He would have sacrificed his life to save you in an instant."

"Oh, child," Ghor sighed, and suddenly she looked very old indeed. "Were it only my life on the line, I would not hesitate. But there is much more to lose than that. The priest that Baal speaks of did return, but not as himself. He was changed, terribly so. His own son was forced to slay him, lest he bring destruction down upon the village that he once loved."

Saiya took a deep breath. "What if I went with you?"

Total silence followed her proposition. Saiya studied her companions' faces, trying to guess what they might be thinking. Baal was keenly interested, his eyes burning like twin flames. Ghor's expression was unreadable.

"You shame me, rafiki," she said at last. "That you are willing to walk where I fear to tread … it is extraordinary. I am not certain whether you are brave or mad – or perhaps a little of both – but I will honor your determination. And you are right; if I did not at least try to save my dear friend, I would regret it to the end of my days."

"You'll do it, then?" Saiya asked breathlessly, and Ghor nodded.

"Yes. But it must be now. We have no time to waste." Reaching into the pouch at her belt, she removed a vial of clear liquid and pressed it into Baal's hand. "Ifhe stirs, give him this. Ensure that he drinks it all, no matter how much he may resist. It will cleanse the poison from his veins." She hesitated before adding grimly, "Should the worst happen, I am depending on you to do what you must."

Baal reached for his favorite crossbow and slipped a single bolt into the slot. "You have my word," he said.

Ghor smiled. "Thank you. I would ask one more thing of you, if it comes to that … please, bury my body facing east, so that my spirit may watch the sun rise."

"I will see it done," he pledged.

Saiya looked at Ghor's serene face, now clear of the pain and uncertainty that had clouded it before, and felt a momentary compunction. She had seen that expression before: it was the same one Baal had worn when he thought he was going to his death in Kulle's archives.

I had no right to demand that she do this, Saiya thought. But then her gaze shifted to Caesar's limp form, and she knew there was no turning back.

"Be careful," the Hunter said. "Both of you." He looked at Saiya as he spoke, and she could see love and trust written plainly on his features. She smiled, infusing it with all the comfort she could muster.

"We'll bring him back," she promised.

"Take my hand, child," Ghor said. Saiya did, feeling the other woman's fingers warm and strong around her own. They knelt side by side, and Saiya instinctively sank into a deep meditation as Ghor began to chant: "Mimi kutembea na roho sasa. Loa, kuongoza yangu kwa dunia yako."

The world flickered around them. It was, Saiya thought, similar to the green mist of Belial's illusion – similar, but not the same. The place in which they found themselves was dark, a flat plain of grey soil spreading out as far as the eye could see. The sky was at ceiling height, low clouds twining down like pillars to meet the earth, racing restless across an unchanging landscape. The air pulsed with a sort of heartbeat, whispering secrets in their ears, tales of long-forgotten lands, the knowledge of centuries stored in the earth below their feet, in the fractured sky above their heads.

With a great effort, Saiya turned her head. Beside her was a being of light, vaguely the shape of a human with hair streaming out from its head as if under water. The being had no features, made no sounds when it walked, but their hands were joined together.

"Ghor?" the young monk whispered. "Is it you?"

-Yes.- The word was thought-spoken, entering her mind as Kulle's voice had done, but infinitely gentler, a soothing touch, like balm upon an open wound.

"How is this possible?" Saiya marveled. "You are … you're beautiful!"

A quiet chuckle. -Look at your own self, child.-

Saiya glanced down at her body. She too was shining, but with a much fainter glow – nothing near Ghor's brilliance. She felt like a candle flame held next to a star.

"What does it mean?" she asked.

-It is because you are Nephalem,- Ghor said. -The light of heaven surrounds you.-

Remembering what the witch doctor had told them of her heritage, Saiya said, "You're brighter than I am because your Nephalem blood is more pure, right? You said that it was tradition for your family to, uh … to mate with angels."

The being that was Ghor seemed to nod. -That is true. My father was an angel, and my mother's father, and my grandmother's mother. And so on down our line. If I return to my homeland, I will also take an angel as my lover, and the child I bear shall be even closer to the original form than I am.-

Saiya could not help but ask, "But what about your wife?"

-We shall raise the babe together. Jahaira understands my purpose. She will not scorn that which I do from duty, and not from lust. Our people have long sought to return to our forebears, to bring the glory of our ancestors back into the world.-

Saiya shook her head. She could not comprehend Ghor's readiness to give her own body to someone who she did not love, someone she wouldn't even be attracted to, just for the sake of tradition. And then to commit herself to caring for the product of such a union … Saiya couldn't imagine being in the same position.

Then a thought occurred to her, and she said, "Hang on. If we're glowing because we're Nephalem, then shouldn't Caesar be like this too? It should be easy to find him!"

-I pray that you are right,- said Ghor.

The two of them began to walk, if it could be called walking. They moved, or the landscape moved beneath them, but their location did not seem to change. There was no passage of time in the Unformed Lands, but Saiya felt presently that she had lived through thousands of eons in the blink of a second. Shadows crept around them, stretching out hands that flaked into ash, muttering in tongues that no earthly being had spoken since the world's birth.

And then, between one breath and the next, Saiya found that she could understand them – had always been able to understand them.

-Stay with us, sisters,- they chuckled. -Stay here with us and we will teach you many things.-

"We cannot stay," Saiya answered. Ghor's hand clamped down hard on her own.

-Do not speak to them!-

-Stay with us. Our knowledge will be yours. You will learn of how the great ones woke, of the First Star, of the thought-spark that brought the angels into being. Our past is written in the motes of dust that hang in sunbeams. We can teach it to you.-

"No," Saiya said again, though her heart ached for such wisdom to be carved into it. Such stories they could tell her! She would know more than any human in Sanctuary: more than Adria, more than Deckard Cain … the data stored in her brain would surpass even that of Zoltun Kulle. She would be known as the Living History, the Record-Keeper, hallowed and respected above all. Scholars young and old would come to her for advice, and she would give it to them.

-Stay with us.-

The vision crumbled, and clarity pierced her like a fiery spear. If she accepted the knowledge promised by the spirits, she would never leave this place. She would remain here, becoming one of countless shadows, offering temptation to those bold or foolish enough to stray past the borders of reality.

With this realization, the whispers ceased, though Saiya could still feel the shadows pressing in on every side, stifling them, haunting their footsteps.

-I see him,- said Ghor.

They struggled forward over ground that suddenly heaved like waves on the high seas, pitching and rolling beneath their feet. Climbing a swell, they saw the wizard, naked and driftwood-pale, lying curled in on himself beneath a towering rock. He did not appear to notice their approach, and even when they knelt beside him and touched him tenderly, he did not stir. Yet his eyes were open, and his mouth moved.

-Come, rafiki,- murmured Ghor. -We are here to bring you home.-

Caesar's eyes flickered to her face, the storm-grey irises bleached white. "I know you," he breathed. "I called you friend once, in another world. What are you doing here?"

Saiya replied instead. "We came to get you."

There was an immediate response from the shadows. They clustered thickly around Caesar's bare body, concealing him almost entirely. Their voices hissed out as one.

-You cannot have him. You cannot take him away from us. He is ours!-

"I don't think so," Saiya snapped, pushing her hand through the cloak of darkness to grab hold of the wizard's arm. Her own arm went numb to the shoulder as the shadows swarmed up it, hooking their greedy claws into her flesh, but she did not pull back. Caesar's flesh was as cold as ice beneath her fingers.

Light blazed beside her, driving the darkness back. Ghor's deep voice in her ear cried, -Now! Run, Saiya!- She hauled Caesar upright, locking an arm around his waist. He staggered as she propelled him forwards, but somehow managed to keep his footing.

-This way!- Ghor urged them. She ran ahead, and Saiya followed as though the umbaru woman was a beacon, guiding her through the unfamiliar landscape. Behind them, the shadows were giving chase, coalescing into a monstrous, towering shape that tumbled after them like waves breaking on the shore, gathering itself together only to surge forward and shatter again.

-Here!- cried Ghor.

A doorway had appeared in front of them where empty space had been the moment before. Through it, Saiya could see the cheery, sunlit vista of the Fair-Weather Court, and her own slumped body. She could see Baal, his eyes fixed on Caesar's face, as if he could simply will the life back into his body. Tyrael was nearby, his dark countenance pale and drawn. She saw them, but she could not go to them, for the shadows looped around her ankles and held her fast.

"Ghor!" she cried. "Help me!"

Ghor turned instantly and started back towards them, but the darkness swept between them, cutting her off. It was a tangible thing now, gaining strength by their defiance, and it was angry. Caesar began to pull away from Saiya's arms, muttering, "I must go to them, I must."

"No!" Saiya ground out, tightening her grip on him. "We came here to get you, damn it, and we're not leaving without you!"

Through the black mist that stood between them and the edge of the Unformed Lands, Saiya watched Ghor throw her hands skywards and fall to her knees, crying out in supplication, -Maumbomengi, nahitaji wewe!-

The sounds of wingbeats reached Saiya's ears, cutting through the gibbering shadows like a pulse in dry veins. A silvery shape came soaring down from above and alighted on the ground before her. At first she thought it was an owl, but then it seemed to be a mammal instead, something small and furry with a long tail. The next instant, it appeared to have transformed into a snake. But she did not puzzle for long over this strange apparition, because where it moved, the shadows parted, leaving a clear path to where Ghor was crouched.

The sangoma was calling out to her, but Saiya needed no impetus to spur her forward, dragging the semi-conscious wizard along. She caught hold of Ghor's outstretched arm and the three of them staggered together into the rift between worlds, and out again into the light of day.

There was wailing in her ears, a horrible, bereft cry, and she was surrounded by a flurry of movement. She knew instinctively that something had gone far wrong, but she could not concentrate on anything beyond the thunder of her own heart, and the colors that danced and spun before her eyes. Her last impression before oblivion claimed her was of Ghor's jet-black eyes, wild and bright with tears.

Saiya woke to the irritating scratch of coarse cloth against her cheek and shoulder, and the dull murmur of conversation, punctuated by an occasional expletive spike, in her ears. She rolled onto her back (when had her body gotten so heavy, as if she was made of lead?) and stared up at a grey, shapeless mass that gradually made itself known as the ceiling of a canvas tent.

"Good morning, lover," said a casual voice from outside her line of sight. "Or more accurately, good afternoon."

"Baal," she breathed, rolling her head to look at him. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, crossbow parts spread out all around him. He met her eyes and smiled, the shy boyish smile that always tugged at her heart, before taking his bow string between his teeth to hold it taut as he made minute adjustments. Gawahir strutted back and forth nearby, feathered breast puffed proudly out.

"How long?" Saiya croaked. Thankfully, the Hunter understood her laconic question, and held up his hand with his pointer and middle fingers forming a V shape.

"Two days?"

He shrugged. Releasing the sting, he added, "Close enough. The battle was yesterday morning. We won, by the way – or rather, you did. You were brilliant, Saiya, really amazing! And to think that when we first met, I had to save you from a single possessed wolf. Now you're killing off Lords of Hell like it's nothing."

Saiya frowned, trying to distinguish gentle mockery from genuine praise. "It wasn't," she said quietly. "It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do."

"You did it very well."

"Thank you," she mumbled, because what else could she say? Then the events of afterwards came rushing back to her, and she gasped, "Caesar? Is he-"

"Alive, yes," said Baal. "Again, thanks to you … and Ghor as well, naturally. He hasn't woken up yet."

'Alive' was good, she supposed, but something about the way he said it didn't sound positive. "He'll be alright, won't he?"

"Eventually," was Baal's less than comforting reply. Catching a glimpse of Saiya's alarmed expression, he elaborated, "Oh, it's nothing too serious. He'll just have to take it easy for a while until his body heals." An odd look – furtive, almost guilty – darted across his handsome features. "I have a favor to ask of you, Saiya."

"Oh? What is it?"

"When you're telling the story of how you gallantly rescued the mage, to anyone and, I really can't stress this enough, especially to him … please, please leave out the part where I was bawling like a infant."

"Or what?" she chuckled.

His eyes darkened in a way that might have been frightening if it hadn't triggered a spark of desire in the pit of her stomach. "I'll find a way to make you regret it," he growled.

"I don't know what you're so worried about," she said. "I think it's sweet that you were so upset about losing him. I didn't realize the two of you had become such great friends."

"We're not-" Baal broke off with a frustrated sigh. "Look, just 'cause we're no longer actively trying to murder each other doesn't mean that we're best buddies. I still hate his guts, okay? We just decided that, in the interest of achieving our common goal-"

"Common goal, right."

"Would you listen? Our rivalry was getting in the way, so we decided to call a truce. That's all. I was crying because … I was, um, emotional on account of our victory, and … yeah."

Saiya rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"So I have your silence, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"Promise?"

"You do know that I wasn't the only one who saw, don't you? Ghor was there, too, not to mention Tyrael and Leah. That's, like, over half our friends." She couldn't resist pointing it out, and was well rewarded by his panicked expression. Taking pity on him at last, she added, "But sure, I won't tell anyone you cried over Caesar."

"Thank you."

There was a moment of silence between them, comfortable as a fireside chair on a snowy afternoon. At length, Saiya asked, "What are you working on?"

"Oh, this? I've dismantled one of my crossbows – the one I use less often – and I'm integrating its components into my new beauty." He indicated the ebony-and-silver weapon he'd taken from Hakan's treasury. "I'll need a different name for it, though," he said. "I can't exactly call it Belial's Bane, since it wasn't. It's a gross breach of Hunter etiquette to claim responsibility for a kill you didn't make."

"What are your other bows named?" Saiya inquired, wondering with some astonishment why she'd never thought to ask before.

Baal's grin reminded her of a proud father bragging about his children. "This one is Thaqib, after a comet that appeared in the sky on the day I was born. The one in pieces is Shams-sahin, the Sun Hawk."

"Well," Saiya began slowly, hoping that he wouldn't take offense at her input (naming a weapon was a highly personal thing), "since parts of the Sun Hawk are going to end up in your new bow, what about calling it 'Black Hawk', as a kind of tribute?"

"Qarasahin," he mused. "I like it. Very well, Qarasahin it is. Hey, you little fucker!" Gawahir, evidently having gotten bored of their conversation, had seized a silver nail in his beak and taken off, flapping awkwardly out of the tent. Baal scrambled upright and gave chase, shouting, "Get back here, you feathered abomination, or I'll clip your wings. I need that part!"

Left alone, Saiya could not help the happiness that bubbled up in her chest, bursting out in an exuberant peal of laughter. She felt almost dizzy with it – though, she reflected, that could just as easily be attributed to the stress her body had endured. She was tired and sore, and she had spent far more energy than she even knew she had, but for the first time in weeks, she felt completely relaxed. There was no one trying to kill her, or corrupt her mind. No political intrigue to worry about. No one in danger. Her friends had survived the battle, miraculously …

… Hadn't they?

The thought stopped her cold, the joy freezing in her chest. Caesar had survived, yes, and Baal, obviously. Tyrael, Leah, and Asheara were all fine, but–

What of Kormac? Eirena? Asiya? Lyndon? They had all remained behind in the crumbling city, and Saiya had no idea what had become of them. Or of Ghor, Saiya thought, remembering with a chill the wounded wail she had heard upon tearing herself free from the Unformed Lands, her conviction that something awful had occurred. Baal had not spoken about any of them, and she had not gathered her wits enough to ask.

I must go and find out for myself, she decided, and set about trying to muster the strength to rise from the cot. It was harder than she had anticipated, her body stiff from sleep and abuse, and it took a good three minutes just to get into a sitting position. Someone had removed her Iron Wolf armor and dressed her in soft cotton pants and an oversized tunic with an open collar. Her feet were bare and, as she set them onto the ground, she reveled in the sensation of dirt beneath her soles once more. Truly, she had missed this connection to the earth. Perhaps once she left the desert, with its burning ground, her scarred feet could endure nakedness again.

Upon stepping outside, she found herself in the Hidden Camp. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the ground, and the air was warm and smelled of roasting meat. To her great joy, the first people she saw were Kormac and Eirena, sitting beside the campfire. The Templar was braiding the woman's hair, his thick fingers combing almost gingerly through her golden locks. As Saiya approached them, she heard snippets of a conversation that had apparently been ongoing for quite some time.

"-not hurting you, am I?"

"Oh, Kormac, don't fret so! You're doing a wonderful job."

"It's just that … I've never had cause to do this before."

"You would make an excellent barber," Eirena giggled, and a fond smile lit Kormac's heavy, blunt features, making him look years younger.

"I shall consider that as an alternative career, should the Order ever fail me," he said, with mock solemnity. Then, as he tweaked a stray piece of hair into place, Eirena twitched, and he exclaimed, "Ah, I'm sorry, meine Teuerste!"

"Don't be silly," the Enchantress replied, waving a dismissive hand. "Some pulling is unavoidable." She gave a contented sigh. "Thank you, Kormac – truly. This means a lot to me."

"It … it does?" The husky tone in his voice was unmistakable.

"Yes, no one has braided my hair in quite some time. My sisters and I used to do this for each other, you know. I feel almost as if I was among them again."

From her vantage point, Saiya (whose presence had, so far, gone unnoticed) saw Kormac's face contort in a pained grimace. Taking pity on her friend, she cleared her throat, and both of them snapped their heads around with amusing synchronization.

"Oh!" Eirena squealed, bolting up from her seat, her half-done braid yanked abruptly from Kormac's grasping fingers. A moment later, Saiya's arms were full of petite blond, nearly causing her to overbalance and topple them both. She returned the hug, somewhat surprised by the show of affection, but not averse to it.

"Glad to see you too," she mumbled into the side of Eirena's head, where their cheeks were pressed together.

No sooner had she disengaged from one embrace than she was swept up into another, as Kormac lifted her clean off her feet and twirled her around, setting her down carefully, as though he thought she might shatter.

"Schwesterchen," he murmured, kissing her forehead. "Mein Gott, I am happy to see you awake at last! The old healer said that your life was not in danger, but he is practically senile, and you slept so long …"

"I'm fine, Kormac," Saiya laughed. "Really. Though now that I think about it, I suppose everyone must have thought I was dying, because Baal was actually at my bedside when I woke up."

"A bad omen, indeed," Kormac said teasingly. "Will you join us for a meal, Sister, and perhaps a cup of this coffee the Kehjis seem to like so much?"

The young monk was more than grateful to sink onto one of the round, hard pillows that served as chairs. "That sounds incredible, thanks! You can update me on everything that's happened since the battle while I eat."

A bowl and a mug appeared in her hands as if by magic, and soon she was filling her stomach with a marvelous sweet rice pudding, supplemented by mango chutney and roasted potatoes, while Kormac and Eirena talked in turns.

"Mister Fahkri has been named müveqqeti avezedan imperator – that is, Acting Emperor – but Adria is certain that he will end up taking the crown, since most of the other high officials were corrupted by Belial."

"They're all corrupt, if you ask me." (This was Kormac, in a muttered aside that neither woman paid much heed to.) "The whole thing should be torn down and rebuilt from the base up."

"And the first thing he, Mister Fahkri, that is … the first thing he did was officially pardon you and Baal and everyone else for your part in the Emperor's death. He said that you'd done all you could to save him, and that Belial had caused all of the death and destruction."

"That's true enough, at least."

"As soon as Caesar recovers properly, he's going to host a banquet in our honor, and he strongly hinted that we would all receive some sort of reward for all we've done for the country and its people."

"Speaking of Caesar, if you should want to pay him a visit, Schwesterchen, he is in that tent right over there."

"Thanks, Kormac," Saiya said. "I think I will. Um … does anyone know where Lyndon is? I haven't seen him."

The Templar scowled deeply. "Last I knew, he was haunting the only tavern in Caldeum that's still open. What was the place called? Daglamammun?"

"Daglanma Qun," Eirena corrected. "It means, 'the Searing Sands'."

"Right. Anyway, you can probably find him there, though I cannot fathom why you'd want to."

He looked so indignant that Saiya had to chuckle, which of course made Eirena laugh as well, and Kormac's sulk grew more pronounced. "Ich verstehe nicht, was so witzig ist," he muttered sullenly.

Before they could offend him any further, however, Baal reappeared from out of nowhere with Gawahir's feet clenched firmly in one hand, preventing the raven from flying off.

"Is this yours?" he asked, handing something over to the big westerner. Kormac's vexation changed into pleased astonishment as he held up a small cross on a beaded chain.

"My rosary!" he exclaimed. "Where did you find it? I thought that …" Embarrassment colored his cheeks. "I thought that Lyndon had taken it ages ago. I never expected to see it again."

"Seems Lyndon is innocent for once. It was this little wretch." Baal shook the fist that Gawahir was held in, and the bird croaked a few angry slurs.

"Really?" Kormac exclaimed.

"Yeah, turns out he's quite a thief. He's been 'borrowing' from a bunch of people, so if you know anyone else whose trinkets have gone missing recently, let me know. I just found his stash. He's lifted a few jewels from Shen, some rings from Fahkri's house, Asheara's badge of command … the list goes on. The only person he doesn't seem to have stolen from is Squirt, actually."

"Well, I'll be," said Kormac. He chucked Gawahir about the beak with equal measures of fondness and exasperation. Gawahir's only response was a sharp nip and a rather baleful stare.

Finishing her coffee, Saiya excused herself and went to find the tent that Kormac had pointed out, wanting proof of her own eyes that Caesar was amongst the living once again. The interior was dark and gloomy, the air sparse, but Saiya could see well enough to make out the wizard's slender form stretched motionless on a pallet. She stepped forward – and halted dead in her tracks, for there was a third person present.

"Do not be alarmed, child," said Ghor. "Your presence is welcome here."

Saiya peered closer at the other woman. There was something … off … about her, that was the only way to describe it. Her eyes, always inscrutable but nevertheless sparkling with intelligence, were now as blank and dead as two rocks. Her voice was a harsh rasp, as if she had spent many hours screaming herself hoarse. It had a hollow ring to it.

"Are you alright?" Saiya asked.

Slowly, Ghor shook her head, then contradicted the motion by saying, "Yes. I am fine."

"Sure doesn't seem like it. What happened, as we were leaving the Unformed Lands? I heard you cry out, and then …" She stopped, because Ghor's face had suddenly twisted in excruciating pain.

"I did what is forbidden to my ilk," she whispered. "I walked in places where only the spirits may tread, and I stole something from them, took one of their own and tore him away from the half-world, and brought him back into this one. I knew it was wrong, but I did it anyway because I love him, and I have punished for my love."

"What punishment?" Saiya asked in a hushed voice, afraid to hear the answer.

"My loa …" It was a soft moan, a wistful heart-broken sob. Growing in strength: "My loa – my Maumbomengi – was riven from me. Never again shall I see her."

Saiya recalled the changeling creature that had come to their aid when the shadows would not let them leave. She did not fully understand (all she knew was that a loa was some kind of spirit totem that was intrinsic to a witch doctor's craft) but her heart understood the depth of Ghor's grief, and she was humbled by it. And sorry, too, because it was she who had manipulated the sangoma into breaking her oath, but it was Ghor who had paid the price.

"I'm sorry," she said. And then, unable to bear the hopelessness in her friend's eyes, she asked, "Is there no way to get her back?"

"No," Ghor replied, "she is gone, devoured by the shadows in my place. She is gone, and with her my connection to the Unformed Lands."

"Oh Ytar," Saiya gasped. "Does that mean you're not able to … to-"

Ghor nodded, just once. "A sangoma without a loa is like a warrior without a sword. Or," she said with a sad smile, "a monk without her holy powers. I am a husk now, a nothing-woman. I shall wander until some other purpose finds me, or until I am dead."

Hot tears filled Saiya's eyes, overflowing and running down her cheeks in rivulets. "It's my fault!" she cried. "I did this to you! I should never have asked you …"

"Child." Ghor's palms, warm and dry, rested on her shoulders. "Dear one, I do not hold you accountable for my loss. You bear the burdens of guilt too heavily already." At Saiya's stricken look, she said, "I am aware that you blame yourself for Deckard Cain's death. I have watched you torture yourself with that knowledge every time his name is mentioned."

"Because I am to blame!" Saiya choked out. "I insisted that we give him the sword shards – Baal didn't want to – and if I had only listened to him instead of being a stubborn, stupid idiot, Deckard would still be alive! And if I had listened to you, when you said that what we were doing was wrong, then you wouldn't have lost your loa."

"So what you are saying is, you should always defer to the opinions of others, no matter how strongly they might oppose your own, because other people know which decisions will lead to good, and which will cause only suffering," said Ghor.

"Well, no," Saiya mumbled. "That's silly. But-"

"What, then, are you saying? That you do not have a right to make mistakes? That your mistakes are unforgivable?"

"No …" And yet, she thought, that is exactly what I am saying. Why is it so hard to forgive myself, when I forgive others freely? If Baal had wanted to give Deckard the shards, and I had not, would I accuse him of murder? Of course not! I would be comforting him, telling him that he couldn't have known …

"You see," Ghor said softly, her gaze knowing. "I speak the truth. Deckard's death was not your fault, any more than it was mine, though I could have gone to him sooner. Or Leah's, though she could have fought harder. The only one responsible is the one whose hand cast the spell."

"Maghda is dead," said Saiya, "but that hasn't brought Deckard back to life. Caesar is returned to us, but that didn't save your loa. Oh, why is it so hard?"

"Life is only as hard or as easy as you make it," replied Ghor. "When a bad thing happens, you can choose to dwell on it and let it fester, or you can move on and see the world with changed eyes, having learned from the experience."

"The only thing I seem to have learned is not to trust my own judgment," Saiya grumbled.

"Not so."

"What, then?"

Ghor smiled and shook her head. "None but you know that, though you may not know yet what you know. But I thank you, child. You have reminded me that the world is larger than the size of one lost soul, and that I still have a place in it." With that, she rose and made her way out of the tent, leaving Saiya with a lot to think about.

* As before, Saiya's life-saving mantra goes: "Heal … breath of heaven … alleviate pain … restore life … grow strong … once again."

* Ghor says: "I walk with the spirits now. Loa, guide me to your world."

* Ghor calls for her loa, Maumbomengi, which roughly translates to Many-Shapes. Her exact words are, "I need you!"

* Kormac said, "I don't understand what's so funny."