"That's why you Craftworlders are all useless softies." Vect opened his palm, where a brilliant Isha's Tear reflected Yvraine's sorrowful face.
As a token of Isha, the Aeldari god of life and compassion, Isha's Tear could not only restore the dead to life and regrow flesh and bone, but also awaken the greatest kindness within the hearts of those with a conscience.
Of course, one had to possess a conscience before it could be awakened. Vect was clearly not among them; his heart was pure black.
Yvraine's gaze was firmly fixed upon Isha's Tear. Her body weakened as she held the dying Vect in her arms, like a gentle mother cradling her child.
"You bastard..."
"I didn't lie to you. I really am dying." Vect was quite pleased by Yvraine's anger. His chest split open, revealing a yellow die, made of material similar to The Deceiver's eye, spinning and rattling within. The instant Yvraine saw it, she knew something was terribly wrong. She tried with all her might to throw away the dying Vect, yet could not suppress the compassion in her heart.
The die clattered. Silence lay between them. Its power gradually weakened, and its sound slowly faded. Then Vect abruptly spoke. "As a slave, I've always been rather lucky."
The die settled. Yvraine could not understand the symbol on its face, but seeing the curl of Vect's lips and hearing the whisper in her ear, she knew that Commorragh's schemer had obtained the result he wanted.
"Success. Exactly as planned."
In an instant, the balance of power reversed. Yvraine and Vect's positions changed, and it was Yvraine who lay weak and helpless in Vect's cold embrace. She frowned tightly, feeling the psychic power within her body be drained clean in a single instant.
Vect tasted Yvraine's cheek with