means you become evil?"

  "Well, that's what's said."

  "But do you believe it?"

  "I don't know. Blake seems about the same, but he'll only been in the Order for a year or so."

  "Our Order has been around for some time now. Have we yet produced any marauding warlords or evil fighters for our god?"

  "No."

  Dwyer sat back down at his desk. "Sit down. You've recently channeled power from the god. Do you feel particularly evil?"

  "No," he answered, taking the offered seat.

  "Did you feel like causing wanton destruction when you were using your power?"

  "No."

  "Perhaps Darkness and Light aren't quite what you think they are."

  "I guess not. But it doesn't mean it's good to be all Dark," Donnan replied.

  "Indeed, it's quite bad in fact to become all Dark. But an exercise of power is not in and of itself good or evil, or even Light or Dark. You had the power to control that storm, and instead of using it to wreak havoc, you dispersed it. Wasn't that a good act?"

  "Well, I guess," he answered, looking confused.

  "I judge that you haven't spoken much with Blake about what he's supposed to be learning in his theology classes?"

  He shook his head.

  "Perhaps you should."

  "I guess I could do that. I still don't understand what you want me to do."

  "Be aware of your power. Be aware of what you can do with it. Figure out what you want to do with it. If you use power without being aware of its strength, and without a clear idea of what you want, that leads to dangerous situations. If you don't know what you want, you can't prepare for the consequences. What do you want, my Lord?"

  "You've asked me that before. I don't know."

  "That's really what I want you to figure out. The power is there for you to use as you see fit. We can help you, and have done so as far as we can."

  "Yeah, and you're usin' me to run messages for you," he reminded the priest dryly.

  "We have our reasons for that."

  "And you won't tell me."

  "Not yet, but..."

  "What would you do?" Donnan interrupted.

  "I beg your pardon?"

  "If you had my power, what would you do with it?"

  "Right now, or if I were in your circumstances?"

  "If you were me," he clarified.

  "I suggest you ask your friend Blake this question. I'm sure he could relate to your circumstances better," he replied thoughtfully.

  "You just don't want to get yourself in trouble by answerin' honestly," he accused.

  The priest gave a gracious nod. "You understand much about the Order."

  He shot the priest a black look, then stood up. "Yeah, well, that's not comfortin'. Stop testin' me, you got that?" he snapped.

  "Yes, my Lord."

  "How come I get the feelin' you aren't done messin' with me?"

  "Because you understand much about the Order."

  Angry, he stormed out of the study and went to find Blake. The acolyte was in the middle of a class. Curious, he stopped to listen at the door, but the subject seemed to be economics. He knocked and waited.

  A tall, thin woman of about forty opened the door angrily, but she recognized him and her expression changed to one of absolute politeness. "May I help you, my Lord?"

  "I want to talk to Blake."

  She looked as though she wanted to argue, but instead called him over. "Acolyte, you will return to your classes and duties as soon as the Dark Lord is finished. Understand?" she said severely.

  "Yes, Instructor."

  She shut the door behind him.

  "Thanks. That was so boring."

  "I wasn't doin' it to be nice. Come on." He lead Blake to the guest room he was now using on a semi-regular basis.

  "What's wrong?" he asked, cleaning his glasses.

  "That damn priest decided to test me and got a twister called down on the city."

  Blake paused for a fraction of a second, then continued cleaning. "Well, clearly you stopped it."

  "That's not the point," he snapped. "The point is I'm bein' messed with by the Order. Just like I knew would happen."

  He replaced his glasses. "I'm glad no one got hurt."

  "Me too, but damn, that was hard." He plopped down on the bed. "What would you do if you were me?"

  "You really want to know?"

  "I wouldn't have asked."

  Blake leaned back thoughtfully and placed his fingertips together. "I think I already told you this. I would rule."

  "Rule what?"

  "Renfrew. All the city-states. I'd unite them under one ruler, and that'd be me."

  "But why rule? And why not just Renfrew?"

  "Why limit myself? You're a demi-god, Donnan. You could build an empire greater than the mages."

  "Yeah, well, remember what happened to them," he replied, feeling alarmed at his friend's enthusiasm.

  He waved a hand dismissively. "Most of them ruled for quite a while, and quite well."

  "You don't know anythin' about rulin' an empire," he said flatly.

  "Well, I just need to know who to ask."

  "I still don't understand why you'd want so much."

  He shrugged. "Because I could get it."

  "Because you can? That's your answer?"

  Blake nodded. "Is there a better reason?"

  He gave his friend an angry look. "Maybe you should've been the Dark Avatar."

  "If it's any comfort, I don't think at this stage I'd be doin' much different from you. Except I would have gotten revenge on Reese."

  His sighed, and put his head in his hands. "You aren't afraid of usin' that much power from the Dark One?"

  "Why should I be? Power is power. You use it or you don't."

  "You don't understand. None of you lot understand. It's not that easy. You remember when I scared Reese?"

  "How could I forget? I thought it was great."

  "Great? Great?" he exclaimed, standing up. "That scared me. I could have killed him! Don't you get that? I could have killed him and right then I didn't give a damn if I did."

  "I was wonderin' about that look you gave me," he replied mildly, although he was clearly nonplussed. "So you've just got to control your temper."

  "I was controllin' my temper, but somethin' else was tryin' to control me!" he shouted.

  "What-what are you talkin' about?" he asked.

  "Godsdamnit, Blake, power isn't just power. This is different. I feel anger and fear and sorrow and all sorts of weird emotions swellin' inside me when I use it. It's not like just gettin' a little and then usin' it. It's always there. It's always inside me, pushin' to get out. Pushin' to be used." He slumped into a chair. Within his soul, he recognized a vague but real danger to using the god's power, but he couldn't even articulate that recognition in his own mind.

  The acolyte cleaned his glasses again, looking horrified and thoughtful. When he finally replaced them, he said, "I'm sorry. I guess I don't know as much about divine power as I thought I did. This doesn't sound like anythin' I've heard from the clerics, though. Have you told Dwyer?"

  "Gods, no. And I'm not goin' to."

  There was an awkward pause.

  Blake sighed. "Honestly, Donnan, I'm jealous. You've got all the power in the world. All the power to do anythin' you want. To change anything you want. You could make things better, you know. Ruling is the only way to get things done properly. Then people like Reese could be punished, no matter how rich or well-connected their parents were. And people born poor like you and me wouldn't be stuck doin' menial jobs all our lives or forced into thievery."

  "You didn't have to be a thief," he reminded him, still angry and a little scared. "You chose that 'cause you thought it would be better than honest work."

  "Yes, well, you don't have to work for the Order either," he retorted.

  They glared at each other for a moment
.

  "You're right," Donnan sighed.

  "You're right, too," Blake admitted.

  "You really think I could do good with Dark power?"

  "Darkness isn't evil. It's something else. If you're really that scared, then don't go overboard using your power. But I think if used carefully, yes, you could do good with it."

  He thought about this for a moment. "Alright, you go back to classes, and I'll do something real hard thinkin'."

  "That's what you've supposed to have been doing since this happened," Blake scolded gently.

  "Yeah, well, I just got a real good idea of how powerful I am," he snapped.

  "You know you're more powerful than a sorcerer."

  "It's a big difference between bein' told and really understandin'."

  "Alright, alright. I'm sorry. I'll go back to class now. When will you see me again about this?"

  "Don't know. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe later."

  "My advice to you is to stop thinkin' small. Don't worry about limits or rules. You're above that now. Or at least, if I were you, that's how I'd look at it," Blake offered as he left the room.

  "That's not comfortin'," he thought, and left the temple for his fighting practice.

  The next day passed for Eliora in a blur. She was so excited about having successfully fought the fire she didn't notice that people were giving her odd looks. She skipped the evening games to study language some more, in an effort to show the Council she was being responsible and not neglecting her studies.

  The next morning she was nervous. After breakfast she was supposed to meet the Council. Jomei had not given her any hints the previous day during her language session, so she hoped they had decided favorably. She was taken to Hialmar's cottage by Jomei and found the other men already seated and waiting for her. She sat down in a chair facing the half ring of them.

  "We've discussed your actions," Hialmar started, without ceremony. "You disobeyed a direct order, you recklessly endangered yourself, and you endangered the