"The plan shouldn't have failed. Everything was in its proper place! How could it fall apart like that?" Fasha glared at the woman on the other side of the fluidic barrier. Veil was some distance away, but through the devices that each of them had, they could communicate as if they stood face to face.

"What?" She replied, keeping her expression composed as she looked back at him. "Are you angry with me? I don't see how you could be. I did everything you asked of me."

"You're not angry?" he asked incredulously. "This has to end, and you know it. Nothing else matters." He sighed and then took several deep breaths to calm himself before going on. "We've both lived for far too long, and we agreed that this was the only way out."

"Have the years not taught you that some things take time?" She returned with a hint of amusement. "You were born ageless; I would think that you would have a surplus of patience."

"Even an immortal's patience can wear thin, you hag," he retorted with a snort, annoyed by her observation.

"Ageless I may be, but hag I am not," she replied, though she showed no anger at the insult. "This was not all for naught though, was it? I was informed that Grim was sealed away with the Ibrix." With a disarming smile she added, "At least that will be one less enemy to deal with."

"You make an excellent point," he conceded with a grin, though the smile fell as he observed, "Prism also fell, though he was quite the nuisance. I daresay we would have succeeded in this matter had he not been freed."

"Perhaps I should not have spared his life," she replied with a touch of regret.

"Ahhhh!" he said with a grin, though it was certainly not a happy topic, "So it is your fault?"

"I didn't say that," she returned with a glare. He had finally managed to goad her into showing her anger, and that was a victory in itself. "Do you think that Neredos would have trusted my word if I said that I could not heal Prism?" She asked with a dramatic wave of her hand. "He would have been on to us in a heartbeat. You wouldn't have freed a single one."

"I suppose you're right," he admitted with a sigh. "So what now then?"

She rested her hand on her chin as she stared at some distant point, lost in thought. "Wait until you can convince the soldiers to strike again. Free some more. I'm told that at least one got away, maybe you could twist that to your advantage."

"Perhaps . . ." He said, not liking the prospects that sat before them. "I will think on this more. I will contact you again in a week's time."

"Understood. Fasha . . ." She said, stopping him before he could turn off the device that kept their communications open.

"Yes, Veil?" Fasha replied, removing his hand from the dial.

"Please don't kill my son," Veil said simply, pleading with her eyes.

"I can't make any promises," Fasha replied, showing his regret with his eyes. "Maxthane got in the way today, and I'm surprised he survived. If he gets in the way again, I'll have to. We can't afford any more nuisances."

"Fasha," Veil said dangerously, "Don't."

With another sigh Fasha whispered, "As you wish."