Char was deep in a dreamless sleep when he felt a burst of warmth tugging at his hand. He automatically swatted it away and rolled over, hugging the blanket tighter about him, but it tugged the blanket away. The fog of sleep slowly lifted, and he sat up, his first response irritation at being woken up. Then the fairy's insistent movements registered in his mind, the way it darted to his hand and straight to his bedroom, back and forth, back and forth without ceasing. His stomach twisted, and he got up and followed it to Iris' side. She was lying still in bed, apparently asleep, but her brow was furrowed, and small whimpers escaped her lips with each quick, shallow breath. Beads of perspiration lined her forehead. He yanked the blanket back, exposing the amulet glowing red over her struggling, heaving chest.

"Iris," he called, shaking her shoulder. "Iris, wake up!"

She can't hear you right now.

Char sucked in his breath. Micah.

"If you want her alive, you need to stop this. She can't breathe," Char growled.

A deep chuckle echoed through his mind. She can breathe well enough. I've done worse to her. But perhaps you'd rather see for yourself.

In an instant, he was in the tower, standing outside her bedroom. He - no, Micah - shoved the door open hard enough for it to slam into the wall and rebound. Iris was lying in bed in the darkened room. Her brown eyes flew open, sleepy and confused, and Micah grabbed her by the collar with both hands and yanked her out of bed. "You will regret that, Iris," he growled, snatching the amulet before her fumbling hand could reach it. She cried out in pain, panic filling her eyes as her breathing suddenly grew labored. "I'm taking it all back, and then some. You're about to find out how much I've been sparing you."

"Stop this," Char said, his voice trembling with anger, but the images continued. Micah released her collar and dragged her along behind him by the amulet, the chain digging into her neck but not breaking, her struggle for air continuing as her feet stumbled up the spiral staircase, slipping out from under her and scrambling to regain her balance as Micah kept up his unforgiving pace.

"Stop this!"

Micah yanked the door to Jonah's study open and threw Iris inside ahead of him. She sprawled on the ground, gasping for breath, but he just walked past her to a line of potions on a shelf, selecting one and carrying it to Jonah's desk. He leisurely poured water into a glass from a pitcher on the desk, added a drop of the potion, and waited for the smoke to clear to reveal a rich burgundy liquid. Then he turned back to Iris, crumpled on the floor. His hand tangled in her hair and jerked her head back, and then he was forcing the potion down her throat while she choked and gagged.

"Stop showing me this!" Char roared.

Micah smashed the empty glass on the floor next to Iris and picked her up, throwing her on a stone table and strapping her down as she fought for air. The leather bindings cut into her skin, trapping her ankles, waist, left wrist, and neck. She was coughing; her lips were turning blue. He bent down and picked up a shard of glass, and then he grabbed her unrestrained but limp right wrist and slashed her palm. Blood poured out on her dress, and he wrapped her hand around the amulet, closing his hand around hers to hold it in place. Red light shone through the cracks in their fingers. Suddenly, she was screaming, writhing in pain, straining against her bonds.

"Char. What's going on?" Rath asked.

I don't have time to show you the whole process. Suffice it to say that you were a few hours too late to stop it. She can take a lot of abuse, my sweet little Iris.

"What the - what is he doing here?" Rath demanded angrily.

The images continued. Iris was limp on the table, drenched in sweat and pale as death. Only her labored breathing signified she was still alive. "You did this to yourself," Micah said, undoing the straps. She gasped as the strap over her neck was loosed, sucking in air desperately. "I can assure you that your precious fairies aren't safe," he continued, lifting her into his arms. "I can track them the same way I track you. They'll be right back here tomorrow, and I'm going to kill them all in front of you, one by one." He chuckled. "And then I'm going to rape you. When you're in that wonderful state where you can't move or fight and everything hurts. You're mine, Iris. Your magic, your body, your very soul are all mine."

Char felt sick. Rath was stunned into silence. Micah was carrying Iris down the spiral stairs, her limp frame unresisting and unresponsive, but Char knew she was awake and hearing every poisoned word. "I hope you don't still believe in God, because if you do, I have news for you. I am your god. I hold the power of life and death over you, and I'm keeping you alive for a long, long time. You're going to wish I would just let you die, but I won't. And I'll keep finding new ways to make you suffer. This is what you get for crossing me, Iris." He lay her on her bed and sat down beside her, lightly brushing her hair back from her face. "Go to sleep, Iris. In the morning, I'll make you wish you'd never been born."

The images faded away, leaving them back in Char's bedroom, where Iris was lying in bed and struggling to breathe.

"You sick, twisted monster!" Rath shouted angrily.

Micah's laughter echoed through their minds. It was all much better for her when she simply did as I said. She chose this, and you have only delayed the inevitable. I will take her back, and I will fulfill every word of her promised punishment.

"Like we're going to let that happen!"

"Iris, listen to me. You have to fight him," Char urged her, shaking her shoulder again.

She's a bit busy at the moment.

She cried out in pain, her back arching as the amulet's red glow brightened. Char grabbed her right wrist, but blood was oozing through the bandages over her palm, and he saw that image of Micah holding her bleeding hand over the amulet again. That was what he wanted. Char dropped her right wrist and took her left wrist instead, wrapping her hand around the amulet. She stiffened, and then her fingers tightened around it. He released her hand and stood up, grabbing Rath's shoulder and pulling him back.

"What-" Rath started, but the red glow of the amulet became a blinding white light, and he stopped, shielding his eyes.

"You can't have me!" Iris shouted.

A sudden deafening silence fell. Char slowly opened his eyes. Iris was sitting up in bed, staring down at her hands and breathing hard. The amulet was clear and lifeless on her chest. He approached her cautiously, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her.

"Hey. Iris. Are you back?"

She looked up at him and nodded. He reached out to stroke her hair, pressing her head to his chest.

"S-sorry," she whispered.

"It's not your fault, Iris."

"Well," Rath said, exhaling deeply. "That was...something."

"You weren't there when she healed Srot, but something similar happened right after that," Char explained, wrapping his arms around her trembling frame.

"Yeah. Well. I get the whole 'we're not sleeping together' thing, but it seems to me that one of us needs to sleep with her in case that happens again, and I don't think it should be me."

"Iris?" Char asked.

She nodded.

"I've got it from here, Rath. Goodnight," Char said.

"Not likely, after seeing and hearing all that," Rath muttered. His bare footsteps padded away across the stone floor.

"Are you okay?" Char murmured.

"I will be," Iris whispered.

He scooped her onto his lap, as he had the night before, and slid into bed, holding her close as she clung to him. She wasn't crying this time, just shaking all over. He sighed and kissed the top of her head.

"I'll be honest, Iris. I want to take you to bed, but not like this."

It was a paltry attempt at levity, and he knew it. She didn't laugh.

"I'll never be free from him until I get rid of this amulet," she said bitterly.

"Rath and I are working on that," Char told her. "Does he know about the crystal?"

She shook her head. "He was trying to find out how I've been fighting him, but I wouldn't tell him."

"Good." Char sighed and nuzzled into her hair. "Restoring the amulet to the crystal is supposed to weaken him, right?"

"Yeah. I don't know how, exactly, but I think it's going to take away all the magic he stole from others."

"Leaving him open for me to beat him to a pulp," Char said, his voice dropping dangerously low.

"I wouldn't mind that." She sighed. "I hate this amulet, Char. It chose me, but I hate it. I never wanted it. It's brought me nothing but pain. What's the point in having the world's most powerful magical artifact when you can't use it and it's just used against you all the time?"

Char's heart ached at the pain and desperation in her voice. He tightened his arms around her, searching for the right thing to say.

"Father John said magic isn't intrinsically evil, that it's just a tool, something that can be used for good or for bad. He said I would use it appropriately. And that got him killed. It got Fred, Ginger, and Kayla killed. And Jonah-" Her voice broke.

"It didn't do that, and neither did you. Micah did that. You're still learning how to use that amulet, and you've only used it for good. Shielding Kayla on the battlefield. Healing Srot. Protecting the fairies. Micah said he can summon them at any time, but they're still here, and they're still safe. You're doing that, whether you realize it or not."

She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I just want to get rid of it."

"You will. Now try to get some sleep. I've got you."

"Okay." She snuggled into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Char," she whispered.

"That's not something you have to worry about, Iris," he whispered back. He kissed the top of her head again, and silence fell between them. She eventually drifted off, the trembling ceasing as her breathing became slow and steady. Char lay awake much longer, the horrifying scenes of her torture playing in his mind over and over again, Micah's sickening words ringing in his ears.