She was still speechless when they took the elevator down once more.

Quinn noticed how much harder it was getting for her to breathe. The only reason Rhys had permitted her to come with him was to check if she could still weather the interior of the Gech. If she couldn't handle that, there was no hope of her crossing the distance to the pathway, no matter how short it was.

"You're going to do what?" she asked, still shocked.

"I'm going to carve the diadon out of his chest," Rhys replied, leaning against the elevator's wall as it headed downstairs.

His deep green eyes told her that wasn't a manner of expression. He was actually going to do that.

"Could he get another one?" Quinn asked. "Once we get to the fortress, could he be fitted with another one?"

"It's very unlikely he'll live that long," Rhys said. "The diadon elongates our life, gives us power and helps keep us alive. Every warrior as old as he is would have used the diadon's strength to test his skills in situations that would have been impossible to survive otherwise. And he has used more than his share today.

"When the diadon is removed, it... I'm not sure how to explain this. The diadon doesn't really act as a back-up system for us. It's better to say it lends us power from an infinite source. And once it's removed, it takes it back. It drains the person. Dolor might be able to live a few minutes, but I doubt he will with the storm getting stronger."

Quinn looked at the frost forming on the walls of the elevator as the doors rolled open.

"So you're effectively going to kill him," she said.

"Yes," Rhys replied, stepping out of the lift. "I've killed many people in my life, remember. This one happens to deserve it more than some others. He doesn't deserve your pity, Quinn."

She followed him out and back down the ladders that were getting so cold now it was hard for her to hold on even with the gloves they'd found upstairs. Quinn was shaking in her overcoat, wrapped in some poor excuse for a fur they'd found, nowhere near as pretty and as warm as the one she'd given Cassie.

She regretted nothing, though. Cassie needed to live, she needed Cassie to live. If for nothing else, than to experience something good in her life. Quinn couldn't imagine anything as terrible as dying after being put through that much pain.

She wanted to give her sister many good memories and for the first time since she'd come to Luminos, Quinn actually believed it was possible. Under Rhys' rule, their stay on the Nayanor world didn't have to be bad.

They could live and be happy. She wasn't going to let that chance slip through her fingers.

Dolor was awake when they reached him.

The wild rocking of the Gech had probably roused him. The warrior was staring at them both with pure loathing, his teeth bared in a grin.

"You're here," he said, laughing madly. "I knew it!"

Quinn looked at Rhys, confused.

"What does he mean?" she asked.

The harbinger didn't reply. He kept the sharp gaze of his burning eyes on the warrior.

"So who was it that wanted me dead and gone?" he asked darkly. "Who set up this trap for me?"

Quinn's eyes flicked back to Dolor, who was still grinning victoriously. It was not a fitting expression for a man in his position. She clutched the coat more tightly around herself, barely seeing the warrior through her frozen eyelashes and her breath misting.

A few minutes more was all she could take. Quinn had no idea how she could make it to the fortress.

"What are you talking about?" she asked Rhys. "What trap?"

A wide, feral grin spread on the harbinger's lips. He didn't turn his gaze from Dolor as he replied.

"Did you never think it was odd that you ended up in the gate hall at the exact same moment when they left? And you saw your sister being dragged into the ship, screaming? Of course, you followed them."

Quinn hadn't considered it like that before. Now that Rhys said it, she was reminded of how the woman back in the fortress had told her that Dolor and Cassie had left a while ago. She had been surprised to find them still in Jos Gharo.

"Are you telling me I was set up?" she asked, getting angry. "This was all some kind of a plan?"

"We were both set up," Rhys said grimly. "Someone wanted us out of the fortress. They knew you'd try to save your sister. And they knew I would never let you die in the storm. Someone planned it very carefully. I suppose they had some luck too. No one could have predicted Kol-Eresh's arrival and I refuse to believe he had anything to do with it.

"I have only two questions. Who? And why?"

Dolor laughed, to Quinn's continued irritation. If Rhys was right, it meant that it had never been about Cassie. She had no idea but it made everything that much worse. Cassie had only been bait for her and Rhys, nothing more than a poor little girl who was dragged along in whatever power games the Nayanors played.

"I will never tell you," Dolor said.

Rhys laughed and Quinn couldn't help but see him like most of the people on Luminos saw her fated. The dark, deep sound cut through the cold air, frightening even her despite knowing Rhys would have rather died than hurt her. The look on Dolor's face said he knew perfectly well he had no such shield.

The harbinger stepped closer to Dolor, the ominous look in his eyes promising Quinn that he meant to go through with everything he'd stated.

She stayed silent. She had voiced her concerns and Rhys had argued his case. Now they had come to a point where Quinn was certain that she couldn't have stopped her fated even if she'd wanted to, which she didn't. She wasn't prepared to kill someone, but it didn't mean she had to plead for the life of someone who had used Cassie's like a bargaining chip.

"No?" Rhys asked the warrior, the dark timbre of his voice threatening and grim. "I think you will. Not just because you are weak. I know that because only a coward would have agreed to a plan such as this. A real man would have faced me, tried to win the fortress from me without using his own female as a trap.

"It's because you want to tell me. It's the only victory you're going to get, to let me know who managed to endanger my fated and myself. And possibly also because I already know who it is."

Dolor glared at him.

"No, you don't," he hissed. "I've been assured that –"

"It's Jeroek," Rhys replied.

The shock on Dolor's face and the stern refusal to confirm that told Quinn the harbinger really had known.

"I see," Rhys said, nodding, crossing his arms across his chest. "So it is him. I always guessed there was a conspiracy like this blooming somewhere. Weaker men are always looking for ways to rise in the world without doing what's necessary.

"What did he promise you, then? A position? Perhaps even mine? I don't think Jeroek would leave this planet if it were on fire. It takes courage to leave Luminos and submit ourselves to the vastness of space and the dangers of the wormholes. He has none of that. And he's the man you would follow?"

Dolor didn't reply. Quinn was getting the sense that he was regretting more than a few of his choices before the warrior's expression turned cruel again.

"He can't match you in power, I know," he spat at Rhys, "but at least Jeroek has the decency to respect our ways. I was nothing more than a spy for him before you intervened with my bond! I never planned to help him betray you before you showed me how little you care of the Nayanors who serve with you –"

"Be quiet," Rhys cut in firmly. "You deserved everything I gave you but weren't man enough to accept that and move on. Hurting a female... that is not the Nayanor way. There is nothing in our customs that says you can hurt someone who doesn't have the strength to resist you."

"Resist me?" Dolor asked, his cruel eyes flashing. "That is exactly what that little whore did! She is my fated, my female! She should be bearing my sons, but when I tried to bond with her, she fought back. I taught her a lesson she deserved. In the end, I had no problem with using her as bait if she wasn't going to be useful to me in any other way. She insulted my honor."

Quinn was aware of how pointedly Rhys wasn't looking at her. It seemed even Nayanors were capable of feeling ashamed for their own people.

Rhys took another step closer.

"Honor," he repeated. "You wouldn't know honor if it punched you in the face. I wouldn't believe a Nayanor warrior would whine about a female resisting him. If you are not worthy of your fated, that is your problem. If you need to use force on a female the gods have presented you with, then they have made a mistake in giving you one at all."

Dolor bristled at the insult, but Rhys didn't kill him like he seemed to fear. Instead, the harbinger cut him loose, letting the warrior hastily pick up the sword that had laid on the floor next to him.

"Just so you would know I took your diadon in a fair fight," Rhys said, pulling his own sword.

Dolor stared, his eyes growing wide with dread. Quinn backed away, giving the Nayanors room to duel.

"You have still lost," Dolor said when Rhys approached, his voice shaking. "No matter what, it's over. Jeroek has won. Jos Gharo will fall and no Nayanor will ever follow you again. There will be no one left to follow."

Rhys stopped his advance. Quinn stared.

"The fortress," Rhys repeated through gritted teeth. "What of it?"

"It's doomed," Dolor said with a grin. "The storm will be unleashed upon your domain, Harbinger. And the survivors will rule over its ruins, with you long gone. That is the only comfort I have left, to know that. You will die. Your fated will die. And so will mine."

Rhys' eyes promised terrible vengeance to all who had a part in that plan, who were dumb enough to still live when he got around to dealing with them.

"The only death will be yours," he growled before moving so fast Dolor barely had time to raise his sword to shield himself.

It saved his life for all of five seconds. A minute later Quinn and Rhys were heading back to the top of the Gech, the bloody diadon in the harbinger's hand.