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I ran towards Marik even as Shikrar thrust himself between Marik and Akor and attacked. For his pains he received the worst yet of Marik's circles, a terrible hole in his shoulder.

Marik's mind was all on the Dragons.

I ran into him at full tilt, with no thought for my safety until it was too late. I might have saved myself the worry; whatever he had to protect him from Dragons didn't seem to apply to his own kind. I did as Jamie had taught me and it worked a treat, knocked him off his feet, long enough at least to give Shikrar and Akor a breathing space. In seconds I was sat on his chest trying to slit his throat with his own dagger—but it did not bite. I tried again, and again the blade slid harmlessly off his skin.

He laughed and started to gesture at me with the ring he had been using on the others. I tried to knock his hand aside, but he was too quick. He pointed at me and said something in a foul language I had never heard before. We were both surprised when nothing happened.

I recovered just quickly enough to hit him, but I didn't have much leverage and it hardly bothered him. Then I saw an idea strike him harder than my fist had. He raised the hand with the ring on it and pointed towards Shikrar, who despite his pain stood now between Akor and Marik.

"Choose who will die, Maran's daughter," he cried in terrible delight. "For no matter what you do they cannot touch me, and no weapon of yours will bite any more than their useless teeth and claws."

And in that instant it came to me how he must be defeated.

Thank the Lady for truespeech.

''Akor, beloved, thus may he be stopped—''

Akhor

I heard her through my pain, through the fury that still burned white-hot within me. I bespoke Shikrar, who moved away to let me see, and together we turned our thoughts to the figure that struggled now with Lanen on the ground.

Even against such a strange form of attack, never so much as imagined in all the history of the Kantri, Marik must have had some defence, for his mind lasted long enough to work the last evil from his ring. As Shikrar and I together attempted to reach his mind with truespeech, to stop him with the sheer force of our wills, he managed to point the cursed thing at me and send through the air a final circle of dark fire that burned agony into my chest. I looked down in shock to see a gaping wound.

My bones, I noted, were intact. I knew, for I could see some of them.

Then, blessedly, as the pain began to sear through me, my legs would not hold me up and I fell insensible to the ground.

Marik

The gems sing louder, even in victory I cannot stop them, that horrible noise invades my very bones and shakes me. But Maran's daughter fails to save the silver one, and I have defeated—

light white light voices screaming in my head shut up get out get out GET OUT

FIRE

      my head is on fire

            it's inside my head the gems are screaming

the Lost

      Lostlostlost

            Die in agony rakshadakh

            White flame inside my head

then darkness       all darkness       nolight noair allgone alllost

and all is gone

      all gone

            all lost

                  lostlostlostlost

                        nononononooooo

                        ……………………..

Kédra

My father called me to come when Akhor fell, for he judged that Marik was no longer a danger.

"Kédra, help me, we must bear him to his Weh chamber," Shikrar my father cried, his own wound ignored, his voice struggling to get past the tightness in his throat. I had to look away.

Could it be that Akhor still lived? I had never seen, never imagined such wounds.

"Help me, Kédra, I cannot bear him alone," said my father. I braced myself and moved towards them, wondering how we two could lift him and Shikrar so hurt himself, when I heard an unexpected voice.

''Kédra, Shikrar, I am come. Where are you ?''

''In the Gedri camp, Lady Idai,'' I replied with relief. Idai was older than I, large and strong, with her help we surely could lift Akhor.

''Be warned, Idai, his wounds are grievous,'' said Shikrar as she approached. ''We must carry him to his Weh chamber, and we desperately need your strength. Save grief for later, it is action he needs from us now.''

Nevertheless, she cried out when she saw him. Lanen was beside him, bowed in what I guessed was grief or despair, unable to do ought to help. "Who hass done this?" Idai demanded in truespeech, even her mindvoice hissing with hatred. ''It iss the Gedri witch, it iss her doing,'' she said, and with all the power of her will she shouted at Lanen. "Stand away frrom him!"

"I will not!" Lanen screamed back at her, using the Language of Truth now as one born to it. She stood with her back to Akhor, looking for all the world like a mother protecting her youngling; her feet were planted in the ground (as well as two feet can be), her knees bent to spring, her forearms raised and her fury plain, and she all but hissed back at Idai. ''Akor is mine as I am his, I will stand with him if you kill me for it, damn you.'' They stood thus braced against one another for mere seconds, when Lanen fell to her knees and I smelt seawater. ''Lady, he bleeds as we stand here. If it would heal him I would die gladly. What can I do? Dear Goddess, what can I do?"

Idai's wrath abated somewhat, for she knew agony when it stood before her defiant, defeated. "Let us lift him, child. He must go to his Weh chamber and sleep, there to heal or to die. Move away, littling.''

Lanen hurried from Akhor's side and spoke briefly with Rella. The three of us turned him to carry him on his back, when I stopped for an instant and knelt. "Come, lady. I will bear you,''

I said to Lanen. She nodded at Rella and leapt up onto my neck. ''Hold fast, this will be difficult,'' I warned her, and together we three Kindred gathered ourselves and, as one, leapt into the air, beating our wings furiously, carrying our King to his rest.

Lanen

I had just thought enough to spare to bespeak the Council— well, everyone, actually—to let them know that Rella would be bringing the soulgems of the Lost in their cask as far as the Boundary fence at the place of Summoning. Then I forgot about it entirely.

I hope I never live through such a horrible time again. I was terrified for Akor. Goddess, Dear Shia, Mother of Us All, I could not stop looking at him, borne senseless through the morning by his companions. Those great gaping wounds bled terribly. I had never imagined that anything could bring such destruction to so powerful a creature. Dear Goddess. It was past bearing, it was unendurable, but I had no choice. Endure it I must.

I did not weep. I think I was beyond tears, though my cheeks felt wet. I clutched at Kédra's horns when the flight of the three was worst, begging the Winds, the Lady, whoever would listen, to let Akor live. Nothing else mattered.

Finally, beyond hope, I saw the hill and the little pool below us. The three started to spiral down, slowly, carefully. The landing was rough, and I thanked years of hard work for the strength in my arms to hold on. I let go and dropped off as soon as I could, for Kédra had told me that he was the only one small enough to enter Akor's cave and he would have to drag him. I followed behind, as one who is already dead but has forgot to lie down.