Char opened his eyes cautiously and climbed to his feet. The light had faded, the white orb had disappeared, and Iris and Micah stood facing each other. His cold blue eyes were wide with surprise and doubt. Iris was bathed in a soft white light, the same glow that shone between the fingers of her right hand from the amulet. Blood continued to trickle from her wounds. The red cord and blue flames had vanished.

"You want the power in this amulet?" she challenged him. "You don't know what you seek. But he does."

She pointed beside Micah, and he stepped back in alarm as a man materialized in that spot. He was gray and translucent, little more than a shadow, his features dulled and blurred, his eyes hollow and sad.

"He was a mage like you, a mage who sought more power. He found the crystal, and he cut the amulet from it. His own magic sealed his fate."

She pointed beside him, and another man appeared next to the first, shorter and stouter, his eyes just as hollow and sad.

"Because it wasn't just his magic that was trapped in the amulet at his death. His very soul was wrenched from his dying body to be used by the next bearer as a tool to sharpen his own magic. And when the next bearer died, he, too, found himself locked in the amulet, unable to rest."

A horde of the gray figures filled the throne room to the left of her. Men, women, humans, dragons, elves, dwarves. All had borne the amulet in life, and all were inextricably tied to it in death.

"They all know the power of this amulet, and they're all tired. They want it to end. For a thousand years, they have searched for the person who won't succumb to greed, the person who will break the cycle. They're all in my head, every moment of every day. Do you know what that sounds like? Do you know what that feels like?"

A roar of whispers echoed in Char's head. Micah's eyes widened, and several of the court ministers clapped their hands over their ears. The noise was deafening. The common tongue, old draconian, elvish - dozens of languages, hundreds of voices, all saying the same thing: End this.

"I'll let you in on a little secret, Micah," Iris continued. "Your extraction process doesn't work on me. The past bearers give you a drop of magic to make you think you're getting what you want, but you're actually unlocking their power in me. Every time, you just make me stronger."

She walked toward him, and he took a step back.

"I'm going to restore this amulet to its crystal, but first, I need to deal with you."

Blue magic shot from both of his hands toward her, slamming into her and engulfing her momentarily. Micah smirked, and then the blue vanished, absorbed into the white surrounding her. She hadn't stopped. Her eyes were glowing white, all traces of her brown irises gone. His smirk vanished, and she raised her left hand, pressing it into the center of his chest.

"You've become an amulet, Micah. They're all trapped inside you, and I'm setting them free."

He tried to step back, but a wall of white prevented his escape.

"I don't have to fight you to destroy you," she said, and then she closed her eyes, and white flared under her left hand.

"What are you doing?" Micah exclaimed, his voice strangled.

Another gray, translucent form appeared on his left, Iris' right. A little girl who couldn't be more than five years old.

"I could be cruel and make you feel everything I felt every time you did this to me, but, as you said, compassion is my weakness," Iris said bitterly.

The white spread from her hand, holding him still and pulling more shadows out of him. They lined up beside Alana, as many as the past bearers of the amulet, filling the throne room to Iris' right, humans and enchanted creatures of all shapes and sizes. Char recognized Jonah and Father John as the last of the hollow, sad faces. The king and the court ministers crowded against the door, hard pressed to find room among the throng of ghosts. Micah was pale and sweaty.

"What's left, Micah?" Iris asked, withdrawing her hand.

He collapsed to his knees, shaking all over.

"How much magic is actually yours?" She raised her left hand over her head, and dozens of golden lights appeared above her, twisting and twirling together. "Can you even kill one fairy? You can't, can you? Because you never were a mage. Jonah and Alana were mages, but you weren't. Your obsession with magic comes from jealousy that your younger siblings held a power you could never own. You studied dark magic to find a way to steal their power, and you found it. But that way was only available because of the hole in the crystal. The crystal was always meant to limit and regulate magic, and greed and hatred have destroyed its ability to do so."

He crumpled into a ball before her, covering his head with his hands. She stepped past him to the wall behind the throne, placing her left hand flat on the polished marble, fingers splayed wide. The fairies zipped past her to land in between and around her fingers, forming a perfect golden circle radiating out from her hand. She closed her eyes and pushed. A shockwave shook the throne room, knocking draperies and wall hangings to the floor and bringing everybody to their knees. The wall shuddered and split open, a blinding white light forcing everybody to shield their eyes again.

Char's heart was pounding frantically, and a heavy sense of dread filled his stomach. This wasn't Iris. This was the amulet, or the crystal, speaking through her, using her. He opened his eyes and climbed to his feet unsteadily. A giant, clear crystal stood behind the throne, its top reaching almost to the vaulted ceiling. Fine gold and silver threads snaked from the ceiling to the floor, wrapping around its surface to stabilize it. Iris' hand was on it now, and her hair was snow white. Her shoulders were rising and falling with the effort of each labored breath. Char raced toward her.

"Iris, you have to stop this!"

She looked back at him with those strange, pure white eyes.

"Iris has no control of this anymore," she said, her voice a mixture of all the voices of the past bearers. A wall of white rose to stop him at the throne. She stepped back from the crystal and released the amulet, reaching around behind her neck to undo the clasp. "Come."

The silent gray shadows walked toward her, passing through the barrier with ease. Iris pressed the amulet into the crystal and closed her eyes. White flashed from her fingers, and her brow furrowed in pain, but she held her hand to the spot. One by one, the past bearers walked through her, vanishing into the crystal. Micah's victims came as well, led by little Alana. The blood from the wounds inflicted by Micah's red cords had dried on Iris' arms and legs, a dark brown on her rapidly paling skin. Each shadow that passed through her seemed to take something from her. Color was draining from her face, the lines between her brows were deepening, sweat was dripping from her chin.

"No!" Micah suddenly growled behind Char. He threw himself at the white barrier, his face twisted with rage. "This cannot happen!"

"You." Char drew his stolen sword, hot anger flowing through his veins. "You did this to her!" He swung the sword just once, and Micah dropped to his knees and fell to the ground, his head tumbling down the dais to Rath's feet.

"We've got to get out of here," Rath said, glancing back at the throne room doors. They were wide open, and the king and court ministers were escaping and shouting to the guards outside. "I think we're about to have the whole army come down on us."

"I'm not going anywhere without Iris," Char said firmly.

"That may not be possible," Rath said hesitantly.

Char looked back at her, and he immediately saw what Rath meant. Iris had sunk to her knees, her right hand held in place only by the magic flowing from the amulet and crystal. Her forehead was pressed into the crystal, and her mouth was open, panting with each labored breath. The sad gray figures were passing rapidly through her, but there were still dozens of them crowding the throne room, making their way to the crystal in a steady line.

"Iris, let go of the amulet!" Char shouted desperately, still unable to reach her due to the unwavering wall of white.

"I...can't..." she gasped. It was her voice, not mingled with the voices of the past bearers. "Please...go..."

"Even if she survives this, she'll be in no condition to fly," Rath said insistently. "She just saved the king's life. He's not going to forget that. We can come back for her, but we need to go now."

"No. I'm not leaving her."

"Those men are imposters!" somebody shouted from the doorway behind them.

Rath looked back again and cursed as soldiers flooded through the doors. "There goes our exit."

"This...way..." Iris said, her voice weak and breathless. The shield came down, just for an instant. Char grabbed Rath's arm and pulled him toward the crystal, toward Iris, and the shield rose up again, blocking the soldiers. They were still keeping their distance for the moment, watching the lines of ghosts with wide eyes.

"Don't touch her," Rath warned Char, grabbing his arm this time and pulling him past Iris to the hole in the wall. "Nice cave system. There's got to be an exit aboveground, too, for that mage to find the crystal a thousand years ago."

"Unless it caved in," Char pointed out.

Rath shrugged. "Good thing we're dragons. I've never actually carved stone before, but I'm itching to try it. Shall we go?"

"Not yet."

The line of shadows was past the shield now. Iris' breathing was slowing down, each one more harsh than the last. The fairies were hovering around her anxiously, but they, like Char, were afraid to touch her.

"Hurry up," Char muttered.

The last shadow was Father John. Unlike the rest that ignored Iris completely, he laid his hand on her head.

"I knew you would use it appropriately," he said, a gentle smile on his face. He turned his hollow eyes toward Char. "Take care of her." And then he stepped into the crystal and vanished. Iris' hand fell from the crystal, her shield disappeared behind the throne, and the ground began to shake. Char reached out to the marble to steady himself. The crystal glowed a brilliant white, casting shadows on Iris' face where she collapsed on the floor. She wasn't breathing.

"Don't just stand there!" Rath shouted, shoving Char toward her. "Our time's up!"

Char rushed in to scoop her up, nearly falling over from the ground shifting under his feet. Little bursts of warmth caught his arms and pushed him upright. He turned back to the cave and raced after Rath. The crystal exploded behind them, sending shards whistling after them and bringing loose stones crumbling down from the ceiling. Fairies zipped around, deflecting the crystalline knives and throwing the biggest chunks of stone aside. Iris was limp in Char's arms. He said a silent prayer and kept running, his eyes on Rath's back as they navigated the winding, collapsing tunnel.