“I can see into your soul,” said the Guardian. “The things you say about yourself are true. But the pure of heart rise from humble beginnings. Sometimes all you need is one single moment to redeem yourself.”

“And I had that, did I?”

“You had. You had a moment of pure compassion. It was fleeting. In fact, I almost missed it. But it was there. In that moment, thinking about your friend, you were pure of heart. And now the sigil is yours to activate.”

The Guardian opened his robes. A light burned where his heart should have been. Without even being told, Scapegrace knew what to do. He reached for that light, felt the warmth on his dead skin, and seized it. The light flared, spreading through hidden veins in the Guardian’s face, and got so bright Scapegrace had to look away. When it faded, and he looked back, his hand was empty and the Guardian was gone. The hourglass turned slowly, and sand began to flow.

“I did it,” Scapegrace said. “I … I did it.”

From behind him, the weakest of voices. “I always … knew you would, Master …”

Scapegrace spun round to his hands and knees, crawled quickly over to where Thrasher lay. He took Thrasher’s hand, held it tightly.

“It has been an … honour … serving you, sir,” Thrasher said.

“Oh, you idiot, what have you done?”

“I seem to have a … a sword stuck through my brain, sir. That’s … that’s not good, is it?”

“It isn’t.”

“I thought as much. Master … there are some things I wish to say …”

“Call me Vaurien.”

Thrasher’s eyes blinked back tears that would never fall. “Vaurien,” he breathed. “What a beautiful name.”

“Thank you, Gerald.”

A peaceful smile blossomed. “Vaurien, until I met you, my life was … unexceptional. I was a lonely man. I had no friends. I had no … one.”

“Hush, Gerald,” said Scapegrace. “Save your strength.”

“I must speak, Vaurien. I have so much to say, so little … time. I met you and my life … ended. And yet … it began.”

“Oh, God …”

“I’ve never been a brave person,” said Thrasher. “I’ve never seen myself as being worthy of the things other people take for … for granted. Of being liked. Of being loved. But Vaurien, you … you make me brave.”

“I treated you terribly.”

A soft chuckle. “You did.”

“I insulted you, I treated you like a fool. I should have valued every moment with you.”

“I valued our moments enough … for both of us. I … oh, Vaurien, I feel myself slipping …”

“Hold on, Gerald. I’ll get help, I’ll—”

“It’s too late for me, my master. But I want you to know that I will always be with you … I will always be right …” – he raised his hand, and his finger tapped against Scapegrace’s chest – “… here …”

Despite himself, Scapegrace smiled. “You’re quoting from ET at a time like this?”