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Raidon nodded.

"In any event," continued Delphe, "I am not attuned to it, but I can instruct you how to wield it in the manner required to refortify the Traitor's prison. You seem adept in its use, even without wizardly training, which is impressive and unusual."

"Thank you. I would enjoy learning more of the Sign. Perhaps through it, I can learn of my mother's fate."

The Keeper led Raidon around the curve of the lip toward the crystal command chair. She began to speak of visualizations, sigils, and interfaces. Gage stopped paying attention. His eyes lit on anothet fallen form.

"Your pet is hurt," he observed.

Kiril's head jerked around to scan the Throat. Concern tightened her eyes when she saw Xet's unmoving shape. She rushed to the dragonet's side and gently picked up the crystalline cteature, now blackened and pitted.

"Xet?"

No movement.

"Gods damn you, you're not even really alive, so you can't die!"

The dragonet's tail suddenly wrapped about Kiril's cradling arm. A weak but audible bell tolled. The swordswoman looked up at Gage and let out a relieved breath.

Another bell-like tone sounded, stronger than the first.

"Where did you get the little guy?" wondered Gage, as he moved to rub the creature beneath the chin. The dragonet arched its neck upward like a cat.

"A geomancer employed me as his bodyguard for nearly a decade. When I left his service, Xet was his parting gift."

Gage nodded and asked, "Thormund, right? Too bad you left his employ. You wouldn't have had to go through all this…"

He regretted his remark the moment the last word was out of his mouth. Kiril's animation faded as her eyes riveted once mote on the cooling sword plunged in the stone floor.

"Angul looks more peaceful than I evet recall seeing him," she murmured.

Cynosure's voice interrupted. "Angul is now as he was when first forged. Being split from Nis, the two halves of Nangulis's spirit are again divided. As before, Angul requires a wielder's touch to kindle his motivation."

Kiril said softly, "I remember now…"

Cynosure persisted. "Angul's life is only a half-life. Without a living wielder, the soul-forged blade will fail, releasing the soul to its final peace. All that will remain is a dead length of sword-shaped steel."

The swordswoman gasped, her hands tightening on Xet, who belled a small sound of displeasure. Yet she moved no closer to the grounded blade. The sword darkened further even as they watched. If Kiril didn't take Angul in hand soon, the Blade Cetulean would pass away.

Which would be a good outcome, Gage decided. Wielding a blade whose aspirations were too pure for real life had ruined the woman's life, destroyed her sense of self-worth, and driven her from the order to which she had once pledged undying loyalty. The world didn't work in black and white, and every time Angul forced Kiril down too narrow a moral path, she regretted it the very instant she sheathed the blade. It was a wonder, really, that Kiril hadn't ended her life long ago. Although such an act would have been judged unrighteous by the blade she bore. Perhaps she had not been allowed such an option. The thought chilled the thief, and he rubbed his hands together.

"I do not know…" said Kiril.

"Leave it," urged Gage.

"I should walk away," agreed the swordswoman. "I should relinquish Angul so Nangulis can discover, at long last, his final rest. With Nis beyond reach, no hope whatever remains that Nangulis can ever be returned to me-half his essence has fallen into the Well. From that separation, there can be no returning."

Unless the Traitor is finally freed, Gage thought, but didn't say.

Cynosure's voice came. "You have borne a burden past enduring for too many years. Let it go now. With Nis gone, the Traitor's best hope of freeing himself is also past. No one would think ill of you, least of all me, who aided you and Nangulis in forging the blade. Let it be. You deserve a life more urbane than fleeing deeds ill-done in the name of an unattainable standard of