Slowly Storm drew the steel out of herself, the blade blazing with cold, silent, blue-white fire from end to end. She laid a hand on her breast, and flames licked between her fingers. Then she smiled and glided forward to hand the blade hilt-first to Belkram. She did not move as if she were hurt.

In wonderment Itharr asked, "Are you all right, Lady?"

Storm nodded. "I am." The fire in her eyes was dying down, and she looked almost herself again.

Belkram felt the eerie tingling spread up his arm from the blade and said quietly, "Lady, I am sorry. It was as you said; I could not stop in time. But you have shown us both that you can halt your blade where you will, time and time again. I have never seen your like in battle, and hope never to do so. Tell me, if you will. Are you a mage also?"

Storm shook her head. "I am a bard and no more. This"-she spread out her hand and looked at the fading blue-white glow with interest-"is not of my doing. It was what… caught me and gave us all this scare." She raised eyes that were normal again, but somber, and added, "Let us bathe and then go in for wine and talk. I've no more stomach for fighting, this day."

"Aye," the men agreed together and put away their swords. Belkram had slid his weapon half into its scabbard before he remembered Storm's blood and hastily pulled the blade out again. A sword must never be sheathed wet, lest it rust. This blade had traveled long and far with him. Yet to wipe it clean in front of the very lady one has just wounded with it…

Storm saw his look and laughed. "No need, Belkram. See?" She caught hold of his blade with two deft fingers and turned it. Light flashed along the sword's length. It was shiny-clean and glowed faintly blue as if freshly oiled. "It will never rust now," Storm said softly. Both men looked at her without speaking.

Storm looked back at them. "It has tasted Mystra's fire," she explained. When she undid her leather jacket and peeled it unconcernedly off, her naked skin beneath was unmarked. There was no sign of the bloody wound that should have been there, and that should have drained her life away.