blocking as much of the sphere's light as he could with his body.
The shadow of his hand upon the cloak deepened.
'Yes!' Kashada shouted in triumph. Her voice had changed. It was stronger, less shrill. 'You've done it!' Then the woman lunged forward and dived at the hand-shaped area of darkness.
Before Myshik's eyes, she melted into the shadow and vanished.
Tauran rested upon his favorite protrusion of stone, high above the Lifespring. He sat a pace away from the edge, leaning back against a towering pinnacle of rock pointed skyward like a poniard. A tumbling waterfall roared next to him, emerging from a cleft in the cliff face and plunging over the side of the protrusion, out of sight.
'We should be inside!' Micus said, shouting to be heard. The other angel sat next to Tauran, huddled against the spire of rock, trying to avoid of the worst of the wind. 'Why in the Hells are we out here in this?'
Tauran ignored his friend and crawled toward the end of the protrusion. The howling, lashing storms whipped the spray from the churning torrent, peppering him with a fine, cool mist. The dampness made the stone beneath his hands and feet slick. The wind tore at his tunic as if it wanted to rip him from the precipice and carry him away. Ignoring the gale, Tauran reached the edge and peered over.
It was a long drop.
The spire behind him rose as the tallest, most impossibly thin peak in a high, sharp ridge of jagged, jutting stone. The ridge formed a deep basin surrounding the Lifespring on three sides. Most days, the waters shimmered in golden sunlight, a tranquil pool of divine healing magic. That day, they churned and frothed in a blue-gray maelstrom covered in whitecaps.
Tauran could barely see the distant shore, where the water spilled over a lower lip of the ridge to other basins even farther below. Remnants of clouds, shredded and reformed by the whipping wind, slashed across his view, giving the whole plane an eerie, translucent look.
Tauran crawled back to his friend. 'Do you remember the first time you asked me about diving off here?' he asked Micus. 'Right before I began teaching you how to do it?'
The other angel frowned but nodded. 'Yes,' he replied. 'Right before we tried to save that marilith's child. What of it?'
'Do you remember what you asked me that day?'
Micus shook his head. 'Something about why you did it. But it was a long time ago.'
Tauran nodded. 'That's right. I told you that I did it to remind me that the easiest path is not always the right one, and that I must remain vigilant against complacency. Right?'
'I suppose so,' Micus answered, his face filled with doubt. Then his eyes widened. 'You're not actually planning to-you must be mad!'
Tauran held his hand up, gesturing tor his old friend to relax. 'No,' he said. 'I'm not mad. No diving for either of us today.'
Micus sagged back in relief. 'Good,' he said. 'Because if you tried, then I'd know you had lost your way.'
'That's just it, though,' Tauran said. 'I feel like what I face right now, with Aliisza and Vhok, is just like diving off this precipice. The easy thing would be to remit them to the High Council, let them lock the fiends away, and move on to other things.'
'Sounds like a fine plan to me,' Micus said dryly. 'And the one I'm advising you to go with.'
'But don't you see? That's the easy path. It's the safe path. I don't think it's the right path.' Please understand me, old friend, he thought. You of all my companions might recognize what I'm trying to say.
Micus was silent for a moment, then said, 'Sometimes, we need others, wiser than ourselves, to tell us which path to follow. Sometimes, like young children, we try to climb over boulders in the road, rather than go around them. Why does every path have to be hard?'
'They don't,' Tauran admitted. Tyr knows I wish this one weren't so hard. 'But diving off these rocks was supposed to remind me to stay vigilant against growing complacent. That means recognizing when the harder route is the right one.'
Micus sat without speaking for another moment. 'It sounds as though you've already made up your mind, Tauran,' he said at last. 'You've already decided what you're going to do, and nothing I say will change your decision.'
'Perhaps,' Tauran said. Yes, he admitted to himself. I have.
'Then what do you want from me?' Micus asked. 'What purpose can I possibly serve by sitting out here in this wretched storm?'
I need you to believe in me, Tauran thought. I need you to tell me that I'm not trying to dive off this cliff right now. Because that's what this feels like. 'I just wanted you to understand that I'm clear headed, steady in my faith,' he said aloud. 'I just wanted you to know that I believe in my heart that something is profoundly wrong with the universe right now, and I can see it, even where others cannot.'
'Tauran,' Micus said. His voice was odd, almost warning his friend. 'I can't support what I don't believe in. We have existed with Tyr's laws for millennia, and they have served all who dwell within this realm quite well. Right now, at this moment, when so much else is in turmoil, is the very time to uphold them. That is how they endure, how we survive.'
'I know,' Tauran said, suddenly feeling very tired.
'You want to bend one rule, and then another, and another. You claim that it's because you see some catastrophe on the horizon, and you intend to stop it, but what if the very catastrophe you envision is the result of your own misguided transgressions? What if some calamity does befall the House, and it all could have been avoided if you had just adhered to the rules?'
Tauran held his hands up in despair. 'It is always possible,' he admitted. 'I cannot foresee the outcomes any better than you.' That's why I feel like I'm standing on the edge of this maelstrom, ready to throw myself over. 'But every way I look at this, I see the same thing. Every part of my body just feels that I am right.'
It was Micus's turn to throw his hands up. 'We are not creatures of gut instincts and intuitive guesswork, Tauran. Watching you place so much emphasis on 'feelings' troubles me more than anything. As far as I'm concerned, the path is clear. There is no deliberation necessary. The law is the law, and we are bound to abide by it.'
Tauran nodded, staring at the wet rock before him. 'I understand,' he said. He felt a great sadness wash over him. 'You would handle this differently. I had hoped you would see my viewpoint, had hoped that all these years of diving together from this point had allowed us to share some common insight. I guess it is not to be.'
Micus reached out and placed his hand upon Tauran's arm. 'I'm sorry, my friend. I do see the value in what you taught me, but vigilance can only carry one so far. Powers much greater than ourselves have both the wisdom and insight to guide the rest of us, and we have the wisdom-and the responsibility-to be guided. If you doubt, turn to Tyr. He is mysterious, but he will not lead you astray.'
Tauran smiled. How can you be so sure? he thought. 'I hope you are right,' he said.
Micus rose up onto his knees. 'Do not stay out here much longer, my friend,' he said. 'This storm seems to grow worse by the moment.'
'I won't,' Tauran promised. 'See you in a while.'
Micus stood and launched himself into the tempest. Fighting the winds, he flew off, leaving his friend alone to contemplate.
Tauran frowned as he watched the other angel grow small before vanishing within a cloud bank. The storm is going to get worse, he thought. Much, much worse.
Micus had not been gone long when another angel arrived at Tauran's ledge. She swooped up from below and hovered for a heartbeat or two, then she settled in the spot where Micus had stood only a moment before. She reached out to steady herself against the buffeting winds.
Tauran started at her arrival, then he smiled and stood. 'Eirwyn!' he said. 'I hate it when you do that.'
'Oh, you do not!' she replied. 'You're very glad to see me, and you know it.'
She looked older than Tauran, her bronze skin crisscrossed with wrinkles. Her merry eyes twinkled with genuine friendship as she smiled. Her long, flowing hair hung down in a single braid over one shoulder. It gleamed silver in the cloudy day.
She went straight to Tauran. 'You look very tired,' she said, embracing him.
