My heart stopped for the briefest of moments and I tasted her again for the first time. Whatever I had built around me, whatever had kept me together through all this, finally faded.

As it left, I had clarity. It was Qindra on the battlefield, that first moment where I'd been able to set the fury aside, to think rationally despite the overwhelming need to smash things. She'd given me the means to isolate that passion, that unbridled fury. And in the process, I'd tamped it all down, deep into a secret place that had succumbed to the ice.

Katie's kiss, the need in it, the urgent passion that rose in me, were too much for the ice. For a moment, a rush of emotion overwhelmed me and my eyes started to burn.

Without warning, the terror and sorrow burst upward from my chest, erupting into the world as an anguished moan.

"It's okay," she said, quietly, kissing my cheeks. "Crying will help."

Was I crying?

She wrapped her arms around me and held me against her while grief and pain welled out of me in uncontrollable sobs. I held on to her like I had been drowning and she'd just pulled me up to where I could taste the sweet air.

After a while, I settled down and she slowly let me go.

"Sorry," I said, wiping my face. "That was awkward."

She picked up the box of tissues from the bedside table and plucked out two, handing them to me. "Sarah." She looked at me, searching my eyes. "That was human."

"As opposed to what?"

She glanced away and shrugged. "As opposed to who you've been lately," she said.

"Ever since I reforged . . ."

"I think it's the runes," she said, running her hand down my leg and massaging my left shin.

That's a big duh. "Qindra did something at the farm, too. Did something to quiet the rage."

"Maybe," she said, looking away.

We sat there, quietly sharing each other's company for a very long time.

Seventy.

KATIE WHEELED ME DOWN TO THE THIRD FLOOR, TO WHERE Julie was recovering. She stopped at the nurses' station to double-check it was okay to go in, and I watched the floor. Nurses hustled about, and the soft double-bing of the elevator opening cut through the heavy stillness that pervaded the floor. Convalescence required quiet. That was the clear message. It seemed that there was a deadening agent of some source at work. The footfalls and voices fell quietly without traveling down the hallway.

I felt fairly helpless, which sucked. If I tried, I could move the left wheel on the chair, but not the right. My right arm was in a sling hugged against my chest. So I could run in circles if I was really inclined to run.

No metaphor there, nope.

Katie smiled and laughed with the nurse, almost flirting, before coming back to me. I watched her with some level of relief. She glowed under the fluorescent lighting, like porcelain.

"Three seventeen," she said, pushing me around in a large looping turn. "They moved her last night."

We arrived at 317 and Katie knocked on the door-three quick raps before pushing the door open and wheeling me in.

"Company," she sang, pulling the curtain aside far enough to wheel me forward. "Hope you're decent."

Julie was sitting up, the head of the bed raised. She turned from staring out the window, and her face beamed. "About damn time," she said.

"Hey boss," I said, feeling sheepish.

She looked at me shrewdly, evaluating. "Okay, I'll accept that."

We stared at one another for a long silent moment. A large yellowing bruise still dusted the left side of her face, and her right leg was in traction. Pulleys and lines held her leg just off the bed, with a handle at the other end that allowed her to pull herself up a bit, to reposition, without moving that leg too awful much.

Three weeks of that. God, I'd be stir crazy.

"So," Katie said. "Joan, the head nurse . . ." She twisted, motioning out toward the nurses' station. "She said I could go get us some drinks from the machine. I'll just be gone a minute."

Julie smirked at me, raising her left eyebrow in that creepy way she had. "Sure," she said. "Drinks. Sounds lovely. I'll have bourbon."

I couldn't help it. I choked out a laugh, as sudden as the moan earlier.

"Yeah, okay," Katie said, pushing me to the side of the bed, near the foot, facing the head. "You have a nice chat, I'll see what I can find."

"Thanks," I said, letting the smile blossom over my face. It felt good.

Katie disappeared and Julie eyed me like she did when I was working with a new horse. "Heard you had some pretty bad burns."

I held up my right arm, not taking it from the sling. "Won't need any conditioner for a bit." I rubbed my scalp. "But doc says it will all grow back again."

She nodded. "Good, good. Shame to lose hair that pretty."

Pretty? Wow. Not a comment I thought I'd ever hear from her. "What about you?" I asked. "Leg doing okay?"

"Pain in the rear," she said, lying back and putting one hand behind her head. "Got another eight weeks, but they don't seem to be in any hurry to kick me out."

"Look, I'm sorry . . . ," I started.

"I was an ass," she said at the same time.

We both stopped and laughed, that nervous laugh you do when you are embarrassed.

"I . . . ," I started again, and she held up her hands.

"Let me," she said. "I've been lucid longer."

Couldn't argue with that.

"I've been talking with Katie for a few days," she said.

"Oh?"

She shrugged. "Shared trauma, and all that." She waved her hands, as if to make it all go away. "Anywho . . . We were comparing notes, checking facts, that sort of thing."

I watched her, curious and worried all at the same time.

"And, I'd had several long conversations with Rolph, when he stayed at the smithy."

"Ah," I said, nodding.

"Yeah, so . . ." She scrubbed her face with both hands and sighed. "I know about the dragon, both the live one and the dead one, and I suspect more."

"Yeah, there's another I know about."

"Great." She shuddered. "Anyway. I figured some things out about the sword and you. You know, mood swings, anger management. Drunken, self-destructive behavior."

I knew it was coming to that. How could it not? Still, I blushed, the heat running up my neck to my earlobes if I was reacting true to form.

"So, Jack's an ass, and his buddy's no better," she said. "Not your fault." She made a point of pausing, looking me directly in the face. "Been a long time since I let some dangly bits get between me and a friend."

Friend. That was sounding better with every word.

"I'm sorry I became unglued," she said finally. "Total bitch factor, there."

I kept it together, though I thought I'd start crying again. Hope that wasn't broken now. "Julie." I reached over and took her hand. "I never wanted to do anything to hurt you."

She squeezed my hand. "Of course not. I know that now. Especially after . . ." She turned and looked out the window, her voice going flat. "Katie told me you killed him."

"Yes."

"Good."

We sat there, watching an air ambulance landing on the helipad across the way. The low pulse of the blades echoed in my chest, echoed the pulse in her wrist.

"I would've died if not for you," she said. "He was going to give me to them, to play with."

"Hush," I said. "It's over. He'll never hurt anyone ever again."

She squeezed my hand one more time, then wiped her eyes.

"I'd say you should come back to work for me." She laughed through her tears. "But I don't have a smithy to work at. Nor a home to return to."

She was all alone, I realized. Everything she'd built, her home, her livelihood, her dignity and pride. Each of those had been taken from her.

All because of . . . Okay, I didn't cause it. Katie was right. But I was at the epicenter. I had to fix this somehow.

"When I get out, I'll visit the regular customers. Assure them things are going to be fine," I said, believing it with each word. "You can use the phone, right?"

She didn't look at me, just stared out the window until the chopper lifted off again. Then she turned to me and shrugged. "Yeah, sure."

"Good," I said. "I'll find us a place to work. A temporary shop. You call some of your cronies and get us some loaner gear."

She laughed at that. "Cronies? Like my secret blacksmith guild?"

"Exactly," I said, perking up. "That's exactly what I mean."

The way she pursed her lips made me smile. She was thinking.

"Rolph had it right," I said before she could speak. "Fire and iron, hammer and tongs. It's in the blood. It's who we are."

"I miss the forge," she said wistfully.

I had her then. We were going to win this. "Call Rodriguez over in Cle Elum. Let him know what's happened. He'll spread the word through the community."

"Frank Rodriguez talks more than any man I've ever met."

"See, that's what I mean. Remember when Chloe Tonks got kicked by that horse over in Sultan? Hell, Frank arranged to get her customers taken care of, while working his own folks."

Hope colored her cheeks and a small smile touched her lips. "He does owe me for that one," she said.

"Done deal then." I felt better. Lord, I think for a fleeting moment there I was content. Something to watch out for.

We chatted then, about who to call, and what customers to tell what. It was like it was before the sword, exciting.

By the time Katie came back with two cans of apple juice and some sort of lemon-lime soda, we were talking about the cute doctors and nurses.

Small victories were often better than the big ones.

Later, after Katie left, and I was alone in my room, I called down to Julie, just to thank her for everything. She told me I was being sappy and to go to sleep. Soon she'd be a total curmudgeon. Made me smile.

Didn't stop me from waking up in tears around two in the morning. I seriously considered calling Katie, but she was exhausted. Instead I tried to work out where Rolph stood in all this. I was surprised no one had found him, or he hadn't called if he were alive. The battle had been chaotic. There's no telling what had happened to him.

I must've dreamt about him, because the next morning, as they were finally sending me home, I realized I didn't hate him. He was preserving the sword. The look in his eyes when he finally decided to take the sword from me was a cross between anguish and madness. He'd been driven by this whole thing much longer than I had. Who was I to judge him?

Seventy-one.

KATIE PICKED ME UP IN A RENTAL. WITH HERS DESTROYED IN the fire, she hadn't gotten around to getting a new one.

"Not sure if I can drive the hatchback," I told her as we pulled out onto Broadway. "With this right arm less than one hundred percent, I'm not sure I can operate a stick."

"About that," she said, hunching her shoulders like I was gonna hit her. "Um, the hatchback was pretty old, right?"

"Yeah?" I half asked. "Paid off and does what I need. I love that car, why? What's wrong with my car?"