"No… No! Necessity alone drives me!"
The old Wizard grappled with his anger, the urge to retort. The Coffers! he reminded himself, hearing Sarl's crazed voice as he did so. The Coffers!
In a blink, it seemed, he saw through the fog of the intervening weeks and the lies that accumulated in his veins. In a heartbeat, the confusion that was Qirri vanished, leaving windswept fact in its wake. He had murdered men with his fictions, imperilled the woman he loved-he had marched across the desolate bosom of Earwa- for this moment, this very encounter.
It happens…
He breathed deep, held the foul air against his hammering heart.
"A bargain then!" he cried in sudden inspiration. "I would strike a bargain with you!"
The grating of coiled limbs. The heaving of air through rotting windpipes.
The old Wizard clawed his scalp.
"Truth… Truth is all I have."
The Wracu raised its bulk from the heap's summit, wagged its enormous crown in the air.