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"I accede to your demand, Daimhin Feich."

He whirled, all but leaving his skin behind, and peered into the darkness. She floated before him in the stygian gloom like a golden rose, watching him with grave, sad eyes.

He reached out a hand to the image—aislinn, of course—a mirage, but so real, so close. He groped after her. "You will meet me tomorrow, before the fortress gates?"

"I will."

"You cannot withstand me, Taminy. Do you understand why?"

She grimaced. "I understand that there is a test in this for me, perhaps I have failed it."

"You fail because you are weak, dear Lady. Oh, I don't mean your powers or your wisdom. You are powerful enough. But your wisdom is based on a fallacy — that good is inherently more powerful than evil. You are wrong, of course." He smiled. "Shall I tell you why you are wrong?"

"I suppose you shall."

"Good cannot bring itself to perform the acts evil commits without conscience. I know you could wrest the Stone from me and use it to destroy me utterly. I even know you want to do that, but that would be failure, wouldn't it? So you do nothing. And that makes you weak — a sheep facing its shearer. The seeds of your undoing are within you, dear Taminy. They are inherent in your nature."

She seemed to consider that, her effigy's sea-green eyes never leaving his face. "The seeds of my undoing," she murmured...