After the meal, Harafin summoned Kevlin to his cabin, which usually belonged to the first mate. The tiny room was wedged into an awkward corner of the aft section of the ship. It held a single chair, a sea chest, and a bunk.

Harafin sat in the chair, which was bolted to the floor. Leander perched on the sea chest, so Kevlin squeezed between them to the bunk, which lay against the curve of the hull and made for awkward sitting.

Kevlin clasped his hands together in his lap to hide the growing shakiness. He had managed well all morning while lost in his memories. The craving for magic had begun tearing at his self-control during lunch as he sat in such close proximity to Harafin, Leander and Indira.

The prospect of touching magic again soon fueled the fires of the hunger and Kevlin licked his lips even as he fought to remain calm.

"How are you holding up?" Harafin asked.

Kevlin tried to speak, but the thought of more delays suddenly infuriated him and all he managed was a growl. He clutched the edge of the bunk, on the verge of leaping across the tiny room at Harafin. He'd pull magic from the stingy old man by force, if need be.

"Not so good," Leander commented.

"Give me some," Kevlin hissed between clenched teeth. "I need it."

"Show me you are in control, and I will."

Kevlin slammed his head back against the hull, and the pain helped clear his head. He took several deep breaths and forced control over himself. Finally he met Harafin's gaze. "I'm in control. Give me magic before it slips."

"First, a little precaution." Harafin waved one hand and the walls of the tiny cabin began to glow with amber light. Kevlin realized he'd sealed them inside a shield bubble like those he'd used in their first lessons in the forests of Hallvarr.

Kevlin tensed to leap at the wall and absorb magic that way, but Harafin tossed a glowing ball of purple light toward him. Kevlin snatched it out of the air and the amulet hanging around his neck instantly stole the magic and poured it into him.

Kevlin sagged back against the hull, a smile on his lips as he changed the magic and made it his. The intense craving flared with desperate hunger, then faded as the magic flowed through him. Feeling almost normal, he sat up and opened his mouth to speak.

The tiny amount of magic he’d absorbed seemed to turn to acid in his veins. Kevlin gasped and fell back as the magic surged up through him like living fire driving toward his brain. Pain exploded through his body and he shouted with panic.

His vision darkened and laughter drowned out his cry. Kevlin wondered if he were laughing or screaming, or just dying.

Then his vision cleared, the pain disappeared like it had never been, and Kevlin gasped with fear.

He no longer lay on the bunk. In fact, the entire cabin was gone, as was the ship.

Kevlin hung suspended high in the air over an empty sea, with nothing but wispy clouds floating far below. A chill wind caressed him, its rushing the only sound.

Kevlin looked around, bewildered, wondering if he was dreaming or if the Trembling Madness had hurled him into insanity.

He started with surprise to find a young man lounging in the air beside him. The youth glowed, as if he’d swallowed a bright star. In his right hand, he held a spinning wheel about as wide across as Kevlin's forearm.

One half of the wheel burned with brilliant, pure white fire. The other half sucked all light into it, so black Kevlin felt like it was trying to suck his eyes right out of his head.

The youth threw his arms out wide and shouted with joy, as if they were the dearest friends, reunited after a long time. He looked so happy, Kevlin couldn't help but smile in return.

He was definitely insane. Then Kevlin knew this being. The name came unbidden to his lips.

"Akillik."

The youthful god of Luck laughed with joy and shouted exuberantly, "Of course! Who did you think it was? Tikir?" He laughed again. "That stuffy old miser never flies."

Kevlin nodded, not sure what to say. Since Akillik and Tikir were opposite halves of Karakol, he hadn't even known the two could appear separately. Then again, how could they show themselves together and still be distinct? But if they were separate, how could they be part of the same god?

Kevlin's head began to hurt.

"It's Kevlin!" Akillik shouted, so loud the nearest cloud shredded as if caught in a sudden gust of wind.

His voice rattled Kevlin to the core, much like Savas' voice had when the god of War had tried to consume Kevlin's soul. It was pleasant but so powerful Kevlin wondered how it didn't shatter his body like it did the distant cloud.

Akillik clapped Kevlin on the shoulder, and his touch exploded through Kevlin's torso like a bolt of lightning. His thoughts scattered and for a moment he knew nothing. He slowly came back to himself as Akillik shouted again as if his previous sentence had never been interrupted, "the man at the cusp of . . . something."

Akillik grinned and brandished his still-spinning wheel. Kevlin stared at it with awe. It was such a constant icon in the Six Kingdoms, he could scarce believe it really existed.

How many times had he spun the Wheel? The thought that calling upon the fickle god's luck actually resulted in a real spin of this magical wheel terrified him. He'd never really believed that using the phrase turned one's fate over to pure chance. He'd always assumed it was just an expression.

Akillik grinned as if he could read Kevlin's thoughts. He probably could.

Stolen novel; please report.

He leaned closer. "Care to try your luck?"

Kevlin didn't trust himself to speak, so he only shook his head. A thought struck him like a blow to the head.

It's real.

It was all real. Even though Savas had tried to possess his soul, he hadn't expected to see any of the other gods. It just didn't happen. He'd been trying not to think of Savas.

Now seeing Akillik laughing before him while they somehow hung suspended thousands of feet in the air drove home the truth in a way nothing else could have. Kevlin had stepped beyond the realm of faith. He knew now without a doubt that the gods really existed.

He wasn't sure what that meant.

Kevlin couldn't help himself. He laughed with the insanity of it. Akillik joined him and together the two howled their laughter toward the heavens. Kevlin fought down the urge to change his laughter to a scream of fear.

After a moment, Akillik proffered the Wheel again. Kevlin again shook his head, and Akillik shrugged.

"Wise choice."

The youthful god suddenly looked deadly serious, and for the first time during this entire crazy experience, Kevlin felt stark, raving terror.

"You're a man facing lots of choices," Akillik said in a serious tone. "Better make sure you choose wisely."

Then he threw back his head and laughed again. He gave the still-spinning wheel another tug to keep it turning, even though it showed no sign of slowing.

Still chuckling, he added, "Make one wrong choice, and then . . . THEN!" His voice fell, once again serious. "Then you come to me and spin the Wheel and the fate of the world lies in the balance!"

Kevlin wanted to run but couldn't imagine how.

Akillik grinned wide and waved. "See you soon. Say hello to grumpy old Harafin for me."

Then he disappeared.

Kevlin blinked and once more sat on the bunk in the first mate's cabin with Leander and Harafin leaning toward him, faces etched with concern. Daggers of magic drove up through his heart and lungs and rippled up the length of his throat before driving up into his brain.

Kevlin tried to scream, but his throat no longer worked. He couldn't breathe, felt nothing but overwhelming pain. He convulsed back onto the bed as white-hot agony erupted in his brain.

His tongue burned, as if he'd just eaten ten Nedikan inferno beans. His vision darkened, and his ears rang as if a thousand mosquitos were screaming inside of them. His thoughts scattered under the onslaught. It felt like the magic was trying to rip out his mind like it had when it overwhelmed him at the keep under Wayra's onslaught.

How had he escaped it? He couldn't remember.

He tried to fight the wild magic, tried to bend it to his will, but it thundered through his head like a stampede.

Then Leander's will grasped his, like an invisible hand, a rock that grounded him against the wild current. Similar to how his Swordbrothers had loaned him their will to fight free of Savas' domination, Leander's strength helped raise Kevlin out of the flood.

Agony still filled his mind and locked every muscle into a silent scream.

Help me! He hoped Leander could hear his thoughts.

'Protect your mind.' Leander projected an image of a solid shield.

Harafin had taught Kevlin the concept of forming magical shields to protect against rogue Sentinels and Shadeleeches. He hesitated now for two reasons. In his first failed attempt to form a shield, he'd willed it into being inside of his chest. He'd never again make that mistake.

The other problem was that he needed magic to form a magical defense, but it was the magic trying to kill him.

'Defend your mind,' Leander urged, his voice nearly drowned by the roar of magic assaulting Kevlin’s thoughts. His strength flowed into Kevlin, blanketing the unruly power and granting a reprieve from the pain. 'This is done by pure will. You must will it so.'

Guided by the Stalwart, Kevlin formed the image of a fortified castle surrounding his mind, protecting it from the invisible assault. The wild magic crashed against that bulwark and threatened to overwhelm his fledgling defense.

'You must hold fast', Leander spoke into his mind. 'Your will is your defense. Rule your mind.'

Kevlin reinforced the mental defenses, imagining them as high walls, defended by ranks upon ranks of soldiers.

In response, the assaulting magic took on the image of hordes of Makrasha, storming the walls like they had Il'Aicharen.

Kevlin knew too little about magic, but he knew how to defend a castle. He bent his will to the struggle and rank after rank of swarming Makrasha fell to his mental defenders.

As his control tightened and his defenses held, the Makrasha constructs faded away. Like a spirited stallion submitting to a firm hand, the wild magic calmed, once again pulsing through him like a second bloodstream. It brought strength and peace to his aching body.

Kevlin blew out a shaky breath and opened his eyes. Leander stood over him, one hand pressed to the side of his head. The old man helped him sit up before returning to his seat on the sea chest.

"What happened?" Kevlin asked.

"Something unexpected," Harafin said thoughtfully.

He sat at the very edge of the chair, as if only just resisting the urge to rise to his feet. Even a subtle sign of worry from the powerful old man was a very bad sign. Harafin was never supposed to look flustered.

"Please," Kevlin whispered as he massaged his aching head. "No word games today. Just tell me."

"Very well, but first tell me what happened to you."

"I almost died."

Leander said, "Before that. For a couple of seconds you just seemed . . . gone. Neither of us could reach you. You surprised us."

Kevlin barked a laugh, then winced from a fresh stab of pain in his head. "You were surprised? How do you think I feel?"

"What do you remember?" Harafin asked.

Kevlin hesitated. Part of him wanted to bury the memory of Akillik. They might think him truly insane.

No, anyone else who heard the tale would be convinced he was crazy. Not these two men. They would believe the truth.

What did that say about them?

Kevlin bit back another laugh. He had entered the world these men moved in, a world so far removed from the one he was familiar with, that he wondered if he would ever get his bearings. He had withheld information about Savas' attempt to possess his soul from Harafin for a time, and that mistake had almost cost his brothers their lives. He would not take such a risk again.

So Kevlin took a deep breath and told them about the encounter with Akillik. Neither man spoke until Kevlin finished his tale. He knew they'd ask for every detail, so he tried to include everything the first time around.

He finished by saying, "Then he told me, 'Say hello to grumpy old Harafin for me' and disappeared."

Leander burst out laughing and Kevlin had to laugh along with him. Akillik's humor seemed to have infected him. He should be terrified, but instead he just found it hilarious.

Even Harafin cracked a smile. "That irresponsible young fool. He just simply can't resist."

"You know him, don't you?" Kevlin asked.

Harafin nodded. "Oh yes, I've known Akillik since . . . well, since it was important to know him."

"What does that mean?"

Harafin waved off the question. "We should be asking, why would he manifest himself to you now?"

"Is he trying to possess me, like Savas?"

"No. Akillik doesn't work that way."

"He doesn't work at all," Leander said. He and Kevlin shared another chuckle.

"You're not helping," Harafin said.

"I know," Leander said, still smiling, "But I have a soft place in my heart for fools."

"He's irresponsible, unpredictable, and very dangerous, but Akillik is no fool."

"What does he want?" Kevlin asked.

"I'm not sure. I want you to repeat his exact words again."

Exactly what he'd hoped to avoid. He closed his eyes and repeated again everything Akillik had said. While he spoke, Harafin wrote the words on a parchment Kevlin had not seen him produce, using an odd quill that didn't appear to need to be dipped in an inkwell.

When Kevlin finished, Harafin rolled the parchment and tucked it into his robes. "I will study this and see if I can glean a sense of what game Akillik is playing."

Kevlin said, "I'm just glad that wheel didn't stop spinning while we talked."

"You are wise to fear placing your fate in His hands," Harafin said. "Tell us immediately if He sends you another vision."

"I will."

"Be sure you do. He may manifest himself as a reckless, likable being, but do not be fooled. Akillik is as dangerous in his own way as Savas."