Aiya awoke slowly, as if a heavy hand were bearing its full weight upon her forehead. She felt the press of rough, uneven tiles against her back, and from them, the sulfurous odor of stagnant water rose sickeningly to her nostrils. Somewhere in the dimly-lit chamber water dripped endlessly.

Now fully awake, Aiya's shoulders ached with a stiff soreness as she discovered her arms splayed at her sides, wrists chained and anchored to the floor. She tried to move her legs but they, too, were anchored to the tiled floor in the same manner. From the corner of either eye she saw hazy bubbles of light surrounding her: candles, each flame dancing delicately in the faint breeze stirred as she turned her head to look at them.

Something pale and moon-like moved away from the shadows. As it drew closer, she saw features coalesce upon it, felt breath hot upon her cheek. "You still do not remember me?" the voice taunted as a torch bloomed beside it, fully illuminating the face.

Aiya stared up at the man who'd spoken. Again, her mind searched frantically for an answer. Grasping: "You once a student at Cloudreach...?"

The man exploded with contented laughter, the torch held in his hand jiggling with the force of it. "Good answer, Aiya Lindsmund! I will forgive you for not recalling my name, however." Then, bowing as he knelt beside her, his free hand held lightly to his chest in mock reverence, said, "I am called Reghar the Fang--and yes, I am also your former classmate at Cloudreach." Then, his voice darkening, added, "You see, the Master of Cloudreach himself chose to deny me my chance at completing the Final Trials. His charges against me were false, I know; he viewed me as a potential rival, surely, and cast me from Cloudreach. But I would not allow him to so ruin my potential--one which should have been destined to usurp Terjal's own." Reghar, pausing, leered at her. "I had to seek other means with which to finish my training in the conjurer's Art."

"So you studied with Grafter the Ageless in the Grip?"

The leering grin suddenly turned downward. "Five years I labored learning the Art at the old man's feet, enduring his taunts and sarcasm." Then the corners of his mouth jerked up slightly at the corners. "But for all the ridicule interlaced within his teachings, all of his chiding my lack of patience--it is I, his student, who has survived, while he has most certainly crumbled to dust. And soon, I will achieve a more lasting immortality than Grafter could ever have imagined...with your help."

It was now becoming clear to Aiya this madman's intention. He had somehow discovered her inherent powers to intensify the spell energy of others and was now prepared to steal that ability, along with all of her own power, for himself.

Dread thudded heavily within her skull as she also realized one final truth: she would not be able to turn her own spell energy against him--not without a third spellcaster in their presence. For her power operated, she'd discovered long ago, in a triangle when she needed to turn her power against another. If she had no third spellcaster to volley her power to, the power thrown would be instantly shunted to her attacker, making his power twice that of her own.

Aiya would have laughed bitterly at the irony of her situation, had she the luxury to do so. For all the power held within her, and the potential to channel it where she chose, she was helpless to do it now. She knew Terjal might be frantically searching Honor's Start, but would he arrive to find a dried, empty husk chained to the floor? She had no more time to waste in wishing for a rescue. She had to find a way to stall this Reghar the Fang.

Reghar brought his hand down to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking her chin. "It is a pity that I cannot savor from you what Terjal Rakmir has. Indeed, you've grown more beautiful since I saw you last. But plundering the energy you possess is far more significant than plumbing your other...assets." Abruptly, he took his hand away from her face as if burned and stood up. "And now I tire of this chaff. It begins."

Aiya watched as Reghar put his hands out before him, his head tilting backward with eyes closed. Soon his fingertips began to tremble. Then the trembling moved up his arms, settling upon his shoulders. A beatific smile began to form upon his full lips.

Aiya felt the burning.

It began, burning and melting, somewhere in the center of her and drenched her body as moisture soaking earth, making her heavy with it. Her eyes widened in horror as she watched a funnel of golden, shimmering light--her spell energy--bleed from her chest, channeling its way through the damp air of the chamber.

In a heartbeat it found its target.

Reghar accepted the golden light with his fingertips, which were now quaking violently and beginning to glow. As more and more of Aiya's spell energy fused with Reghar's, his body began to pulse as if the energy were a living thing trapped within him. Throughout, his smile grew ever wider.

Aiya knew she was dying now, for commingled with her spell energy was her life--force--and he would have that too. She strained weakly against her bindings, twisting and pulling. She felt her wrists and ankles grow slick with blood as she continued to tug feebly at the restraints.

As the energy poured from her, the stream growing thicker, stronger, Aiya felt as if millions of insects swarmed within her. She tried to scream, to call out--but no sound would come from her, for she hadn't the strength even for that. Now, as an icy numbness crept into her limbs, she no longer felt the lacerations upon her wrists and ankles.

Just as her eyes were about to close, she heard the pound of footsteps upon the stairwell. Nearing delirium, she imagined that the mercenaries had returned, probably to dispose of her body once Reghar had finished with her.

Reghar had heard the sounds too.

He turned abruptly, the flow of energy interrupted. Reghar spun upon his heels and tossed a ball of energy at three forms just stepping beneath the light of a wall-torch.

The ball of energy hit Darman, Strandholt and Arjas full on, driving them in separate directions as if they were split cordwood. Each man writhed within a cocoon of shimmering golden light, the weapons they carried now lying useless upon the tiled floor. Lord Vaukmond and a few guardsmen came at Reghar, but met with the same fate as the three Blades.

Aiya's heart jolted in her chest as she saw Terjal bound down the steps on the heels of Vaukmond and his guardsmen. She opened her mouth to warn him, but no sound issued forth. She watched as Reghar tossed an energy sphere at Terjal, immediately after the Fang's assault upon the Duke. But Terjal had expected it, tossing an energy sphere of his own at Reghar.

The two golden orbs met, showering the chamber with their glittering light, as they exploded. But before Terjal could release another bolt, Reghar tossed a net of shimmering energy at his former teacher. Reghar rushed at Terjal and gripped the conjurer through the net, his fingers closing over Terjal's throat.

It was clear to Aiya that Reghar's physical strength had also increased as he had absorbed her spell energy. She watched helplessly as Reghar dashed Terjal against a wall of the chamber, the Fang's voice rumbling: "Your former student is now ready for his Final Trials, Master of Cloudreach." Then, slamming Terjal against the wall again, added, "Do you remember each of your expelled students, Master of Cloudreach?" Then Reghar struck Terjal's jaw with the back of his hand, a trickle of blood beginning at a corner of the conjurer's mouth.

Aiya saw Terjal's eyes search for her over Reghar's shoulder. Seeing this, Reghar struck Terjal once more, the force of the blow driving his head hard against the wall. "Answer me!" the Fang shouted.

Terjal's head lolled a little, but he seemed to recover enough for a reply. "I have expelled only a few...I don't recall...your..." Then, eyes widening, Terjal said, "But you," eyes now narrowing with sudden remembrance, "you...were responsible for a...death. Yes, I remember now...Reg...Reghar!"

Reghar nodded his head, a bitter scowl upon his face. "I am Reghar, yes. But the death was caused by my spell-partner's own incompetence--for this, Fehl deserved to die. Your jealousy of my talent and potential blinded you to my innocence." Then Reghar's voice fell to a low moan, as if he were trying to halt a sob. "I worshipped you even before I was admitted to Cloudreach--I dreamed of studying under Terjal Rakmir, the great-grandson of Sorcerer Jrrnyn Rakmir. I did what I did to impress you--couldn't you see that? Couldn't you? I would have done anything--anything!--to impress you. But instead you saw me as a rival," shoving Terjal roughly against the wall, "which must be removed from your midst. Instead, you chose to moon over your other favorite student."

"What you did was foolish--you were reckless," Terjal gasped as Reghar tightened his grip. "You did not adhere to my Rule of Safety: a conjurer who acts with no regard for safety is disaster unchained. You refused to focus on discipline and so I had no other choice but to expell you."

Reghar, gritting his teeth, slammed Terjal against the wall once more. "And your star pupil Aiya Lindsmund took my place!" Reghar leered. "How far did your 'discipline' go with her, Master of Cloudreach? Did she please you in ways I could not?"

Terjal's eyes moved once again in the direction of Aiya. "Let her go," Terjal pleaded. "Take my energy instead--drain me and let her go!"

"Go ahead and look upon her," Reghar hissed, pointedly ignoring Terjal's desperate appeal. "Soon she'll be nothing more than long pile of ash. She possesses far more spell energy than you, Terjal Rakmir. And she knows how to intensify and amplify it, shape it as she chooses. Soon that gift will be mine. But before I've absorbed all from her," Reghar grinned, "I shall drain yours first, since you have graciously offered it to me."

Aiya watched as Terjal's body began to pulse, a cone of golden light springing from Terjal's chest and funneling directly into Reghar.

She knew what she must do.

There were three spellcasters in the chamber now.

She was very weak, what little spell energy remained was barely enough to keep her alive. But she was willing to give it to Terjal, even if it meant her certain death. Yet she knew that Terjal would try every resource to revive her. She would trust him with her life, for he was willing to give up his own for hers. She also knew she could not live in this world without Terjal Rakmir.

She heard his words again as he'd spoken them during the journey to Windemere: "The odd aspect of love is that if someone has never experienced it, it is not missed. But having tasted it and then nearly losing it, by whatever action, the subject of that love, and the emotion surrounding it, becomes the most important passion in that person's life." Those words grew in meaning as she prepared herself for her possibly fatal task.

Aiya closed her eyes and concentrated. In a black void within her mind she saw only Terjal: she imagined him until he was real, solid. She saw each feature defined: the color and texture of his dark red hair; his lapis blue eyes; the light beard that traced his angular jaw. When satisfied that the image of Terjal was a genuine one, Aiya suffused the image with every last ounce of spell energy within her.

She lost consciousness before she could open her eyes and see the Terjal of flesh and bone.

###

Terjal knew what Aiya was doing as the first wave of spell energy exploded within him, as if each cell in his body were blossoming with it. She's channeling her power into to me, Terjal thought frantically. I've got to break the connection before she completely drains herself. Nearly dizzy with the strong influx of power, Terjal severed the link between Aiya and himself with a single thought.

Now saturated with a sufficient store of spell energy, Terjal hurled a spell thought at Reghar. The Fang, obviously unsuspecting of Aiya's actions, took the force of Terjal's assault with eyes wide and startled. Reghar tried to rebound with a spell thought of his own, but Terjal clasped the Fang to him and began to siphon some of Reghar's own spell energy. The Fang loosed a scream of anguish as he watched his spell power drain into Terjal.

Reghar pulled away from Terjal and staggered backward, his arms flailing at his sides like a windmill. Terjal launched himself at the Fang, gripping the younger conjurer's shoulders and dashing him hard against the opposite wall again and again. Reghar's head hit the wall each time with such force that Terjal soon heard a wet crack as the Fang's skull split. Reghar's eyes turned in their sockets and his body slid down the wall, leaving a long smudge of blood and gore upon the dirty mortar.

Terjal heard the groans of his Blades and Vaukmond behind him, Reghar's sudden death having freed them all from their spell cocoons. He saw the Duke's war ax and took it up, bringing its blade down upon the chains anchoring Aiya to the floor. Once freed, he drew her into his arms, cradling and rocking her, whispering against her hair. He felt her faint breath upon his cheek--she was still alive--as hot tears began to flow from the corners of his eyes.

He watched Aiya's eyelids flutter open weakly, as one of his tears fell upon her cheek. "How is it possible," she whispered hoarsely, "for the Master of Cloudreach to weep?"

"So long as it is for happiness," Terjal said, not bothering to wipe the tears away. "But remember this moment, for it won't happen again."

"What of Reghar?"

"Dead. Nearly at the cost of your own life--a bargain I would not accept."

"And neither would I accept the loss of your life."

Aiya's eyes closed and she began to sleep. Terjal clutched her to his chest once more and loosed a heavy sigh. Soon his Blades and Vaukmond surrounded him. "I must get Aiya to Cloudreach immediately," he told them.

"I will gather together an escort," Lord Vaukmond said as he worked a key into the manacles encircling Aiya's wrists and ankles.

Terjal shook his head. "No, we haven't time--we must spell travel to Cloudreach."

Darman knelt beside Terjal. "And what of Strandholt, Arjas and myself?"

"You must spell travel with me."

Lord Vaukmond scratched his beard. "How is it possible to transport yourself and all of your men?"

"Aiya has given me enough spell energy to accomplish this--I won't even need a spell chamber." Then, to his Blades, "Stand close."

Without a single reply of dissent, all three Blades huddled against Terjal and Aiya--they were, after all, Terjal's Blades and bound to his service. Better still, they trusted their master implicitly. Lord Vaukmond and his own men moved away. "What must I do," the Duke asked, "with the body of this dead spellcaster?"

Terjal leveled an impassive stare at the Duke. "Burn it," he said simply, emotionlessly, not caring to settle his gaze once more upon such a pitiful creature as Reghar the Fang.

Was it a tincture of guilt that kept his eyes away from Reghar's broken form? Had he, Terjal Rakmir, been an indirect cause of all the suffering by simply turning away this sullen student from Cloudreach so long ago? How could anyone guess the depth of revenge within another? Too many questions, further sowing the seeds of these uncomfortable feelings of guilt rising within him.

But he couldn't help himself--for he knew, despite others' predictable insistence of his innocence, he would nevertheless be forever indicting himself; it was, after all, in his nature. Prior to this quest, no other had ever died by his hand; even though Reghar, responsible for his own actions, had put himself and Terjal on such a fateful course. And as the teacher meted punishment, Terjal thought wryly, so did the punished student as well. A bitter and unwelcome lesson.

But worst of all, Terjal now realized his own capacity for revenge--and that thought more than any other--kept his eyes averted from Reghar the Fang's corpse. He now knew that he could smash a man's head to a pulpy mess, a man he barely knew at all, simply for hurting the one he loved more than his own life. I suppose then, Terjal thought sadly to himself, that love and hate are emotions not so easily separated.

Turning once more to Lord Vaukmond, he added, "But see first whether or not this young man, Reghar the Fang, has a family which will see to the disposal of his body. Unfortunately, his time at Cloudreach was brief and so long ago that I doubt I have record of him."

The Duke nodded somberly, perhaps himself feeling a little pity for the dead spellcaster, bent and broken against the wall. "Quitonne maintains extensive registries--I will send a message to the recordkeeper who sees to such things."

Then Terjal, Aiya and the Blades dissolved in a blur of golden light.

###

They were in the only time chamber at Cloudreach: a narrow, windowless room with no furnishings save for a row of raised pallets.

Lying upon the first pallet, Aiya still wore her wedding dress, its wide lace-trimmed hem grazing the floor. Terjal gazed fondly down upon her--still only his bride-to-be--and drew his index finger lightly along a softly rounded temple, tracing along her high cheekbones till it rested upon her pointed chin. Aiya's eyelids opened halfway as she weakly placed a hand over his, her fingers gently stroking the backs of his own fingertips.

"Once again," she said, her voice faint, "our union has been interrupted. First, by misunderstandings long ago; second, by a plundering direspawn--two of them, in fact; now by someone's envy of my innate talents."

Terjal brought his lips to her brow, then drew back a little, his hand sifting through the thick hair above her forehead, brushing it back gently. "And still one more interruption: Time. You are severely drained, my love, the Long Sleep is the only thing which will restore your spell energy. There is no way that I can give back to you what was taken--alas, I haven't the means to do it. Such talent died with Reghar, and he left no mention of it in his journal."

Aiya nodded weakly beneath Terjal's caress, and as she gazed up at him, her eyes held the sheen of tears. "And for how long, do you think? Will you wait, then?"

"I will join you in the Long Sleep, of course."

Aiya's eyes widened a little. "But Terjal, you are not in such need as I! What will become of Cloudreach?"

Terjal shook his head as he lifted her hand to his lips, a single fat tear rolling shamelessly from his eye and upon her fingers. "What will become of me if I don't? Aiya, I have waited so long to find the One meant for me--and for many years I'd always thought--hoped--that my One would be you. And when you seemed to spurn me while in the Duke's employ, I thought that either I'd been wrong in such an assumption, or that I must consign myself to a lonely existence--for I would seek no other to be my One." Then smiling, he added, "Besides, would you still have such feelings for a very ancient, grey-bearded teacher when you awakened?"

Aiya returned Terjal's smile and sighed. "Aye, that I still would, and gladly." Then she closed her eyes and sighed once more, the hand within Terjal's gone slack.

Terjal felt a tentative touch upon his shoulder. He gently crossed Aiya's hands upon her stomach, bending once more to place a lingering kiss upon her lips. Still sitting beside Aiya, Terjal watched as Darman moved to stand before him. The First Blade looked nervously down at Aiya, "She's not--?"

Terjal shook his head, taking the Blade's meaning. "No, only sleeping. But we haven't time. I will be joining Aiya in the Long Sleep."

Darman lifted his chin in a subtle show of solidarity. "As I will, also."

Terjal's brows lifted. "You will make such a sacrifice? It is uncertain how much time will pass before we awaken. I will arrange a spell so that once Aiya's own spell energy has been restored, her awakening shall trigger mine as well."

"I have no family to bind me to this time, and you will be in need of Blades to protect you. For it is also uncertain whether we will find ourselves surrounded by the same familiar alliances."

Strandholt and Arjas appeared beside Darman. Arjas spoke first. "I would wish to join you as well, but I will ask one question first: does one dream during the Long Sleep?"

Terjal sensed the hidden purpose behind Arjas's question. "For a brief time, and only those schooled in sorcery can achieve this. Do not worry, Arjas, your troubled thoughts will not chase you there. And once you've finally awakened, you may cleanse from your mind whatever thoughts plagued you in this time."

Arjas favored Terjal with his old, familiar good-natured grin. "I will join you, definitely."

Now Strandholt cleared his throat uncomfortably. "And I would join all of you--save that I have two promises that I must keep."

Terjal looked up at the tall, blond warrior, meeting his gaze full with his own. "As I've said before: I would never keep you from fulfilling your promise to Shankal, nor would I have you abandon your mother. I only hope that the aquamancers of Shammerkath will have a cure for Palnea; I wish you both well."

Strandholt ducked his head once in the custom of the Outsiders, a smile of gratitude curving his lips. "Well met, spellweaver Terjal Rakmir. I know I shall never find another to serve who is so fair and honorable. I will see that Cloudreach is secure before I leave."

The other Blades clapped Strandholt upon his back in the manner of warriors, swearing oaths that if the Long Sleep be short, their paths might surely cross once again. Strandholt bowed once more before Terjal, turned and left the chamber.

Terjal looked at his Blades, their faces expectant.

"It is time to sleep," he said simply.