Still on her knees, she wrapped her arms around herself and snapped, “And this body is mine! I’m not some old wizard pretending to be your Rune; I am your Rune! Get that through your thick head, Lord Highnose Delcastle-if you can!”

Arclath blinked. “Uh-ah-but Rune, how can I be sure? I-”

“You can’t, Lord Delcastle! None of us can! All of us must trust in others in life or shun them completely and wander the wilderlands alone-until the first prowling wolf or hungry bear gets us! I have to trust you; you have to trust me; and we both have to trust others-the bard and wizard with us, for instance. Now, let me tell you something!”

Arclath blinked at her, then-wisely, El thought-nodded. And refrained from pointing out that Rune had been doing just that.

Good lad. Ye might live through this, after all.

“I am hurt, Arclath. I have just met a goddess. Face-to-face-stlarn it, and she touched me! It was terrible, and it was wonderful. I was lost in awe and wanted nothing more than to come back here and tell you how utterly magnificent it was. The most shining moment in my life thus far, possibly the finest happening I’ll ever know. And you’ve ruined it, Arclath, utterly ruined it! I need to share it with you; I need you to understand it; and what do I find? You’re waving a sword around as if that will solve everything! How typically noble! Gah!”

“B-but Rune, he’s stolen your body!”

Amarune exploded up off the floor and marched right up to Arclath, slapping his sword aside with the flat of one hand, angry eyes glittering. “Now you listen to me, Lord Delcastle! Elminster-my ancestor, and don’t you high Houses set much store by your bloodlines and hallowed forebearers, hey?-has borrowed my body. With many misgivings and no intention of keeping it, and I have seen that in his mind. We share my head, remember? I’ve seen his thoughts, and I know. Him I need not trust, because I know what he thinks and feels.”