Кристи Голдэн - Twilight

"Why is it," Zeratul said mildly, "that recently I seem to become entangled with humans?"

"Maybe you need a little comic relief," Jake said deprecatingly. Zeratul half closed his eyes and tilted his head, and his laughter washed over Jake. The archaeologist gave a half-smile.

"I had thought Raynor a remarkable, perhaps unique," representative of the terran race," Zeratul continued, moving down the ramp with the same graceful stride that marked all of his species. "And yet behold, when I come to my secluded place to think and reflect, I am greeted by a human who holds a protoss preserver in his head." There was a hint of condescension in his mental voice, but more of admiration. And curiosity, but dulled somehow, as if it did not prick him as it ought to.

"Zamara," he continued, directing his speech to the preserver but including Jake in the conversation, "how is it I find you here?"

"My body is dead and decomposed," Zamara answered quietly. "But my will and spirit live on." She fell silent to Jake's mental hearing, but Zeratul listened intently, nodding. Jake realized she was quickly and efficiently filling the dark templar in on what had transpired.

Some of it, at least. There are things that would be best told by you, Jacob. And information I would reveal to you both at the same time.

Jake was oddly touched by Zamara's consideration. He had expected that he'd be the classic third wheel at this reunion, but Zamara seemed determined that he be an active part.

"Your will is admirable, Zamara," said Zeratul slowly.

Jake sensed a "but" in there.

"...But I do not know that you have come to the right protoss for aid."

Zeratul turned his purple-hued face up to the sky and closed his eyes. There was weariness and something else in Zeratul's mental voice. More than simple tiredness or frustration. Something that—

I'll be damned, Jake said to Zamara. Zeratul—he's soul sick.

She did not respond, and he realized that she was as taken aback as he. Perhaps more so.

"Zeratul?" Jake said tentatively. "I don't know exactly what Zamara told you, but there's a lot at stake here. We really need your help."

"I did not come here to help you, human. And I do not know thatI could even if I wished. Zamara knows." He turned and gazed at Jake, but it was Zamara he was looking for.

"This is my sanctuary. I did not ask you to invade it, and I am not pleased to see you, preserver. You bore witness to my failing once before, and it is now recorded in your memories for all generations to know. I, Prelate Zeratul, was the one who told the zerg where to find Aiur. The blood of all those who fell is on my hands."

Whoa! I thought he was one of the good guys!

He is, Zamara reassured him. There was no doubt in her mind.

"You destroyed a cerebrate, killing it permanently," Zamara said. "You used what the Void had taught your people—you did something we never could have done without you. You know it is not your fault that in that moment, your thoughts were made known to the Overmind, who plucked from them the location of our homeworld."

Jake felt a rush of sympathy. That burden of guilt had to be heavy.

Zeratul waved a hand, almost angrily. "I well know I would never have betrayed Aiur intentionally. And yet, betrayed it was, and so many died. I must live with that. That—and other things. Some of the things I have seen, and some of the deeds I have done, Zamara, are darker and colder than the Void itself, and all the rationality and reason in the universe cannot expunge the guilt."

Something as bad or worse than leading the zerg to an innocent planet? What the hell has this guy done?

Jake was shocked and more than a little worried, but Zamara was angry—angrier than perhaps he had ever seen her. "Perhaps you are right, Zeratul. I came seeking a protoss of wisdom, of insight. That is the Prelate Zeratul I sought. Instead, I find before me a shadow of that being. One who is more concerned with his own pain and guilt than the future of his people. I have seen arrogance in our people before, in the actions of the Conclave. I never thought to see it in thedark templar, least of all in the protoss I had come to admire as the best the dark templar had to offer."

Zeratul drew himself up to his full imposing height. Green fire blazed in his eyes. "Arrogance? You do not know of what you speak. Even with all that you have seen, preserver, I think if you had borne witness to what I have, you would be less judgmental."

"Perhaps," agreed Zamara. Jake stayed silent, utterly taken aback by this vehement confrontation between a protoss he knew to be rational and calm and one he'd been led to believe was the same. "But you are too consumed by your self-pity and what you have labeled your shame to confide in me. It is well you are here, Zeratul. I cannot think that in your present state you would be of any use to our people on Shakuras, or indeed, of use to Jacob or myself. Jacob and I have come from Aiur, where we watched others die protecting us and the information I bear. Our passage to Shakuras has been blocked. I know not where to turn now, but rest assured, until you can conduct yourself better, it shall not be to you."

For a dreadful moment, Jake was certain Zeratul was going to physically attack Zamara—and by extension, Jake and his terran body. With Zamara in control, he'd been able to defeat Ethan Stewart's pet assassin, Phillip Randall. But he knew with certainty that Zamara would not come off the victor in a fight with Zeratul, even if she had been equipped with psi blades. Though moody and emotionally shattered, Zeratul was still a force to be reckoned with.

Then to Jake's combined relief and disappointment, the blazing fire in Zeratul's eyes subsided to a dull ember.

"If anyone knows where to turn, Zamara, it is a preserver. You will find aid. But you will not find it here. Take the atmospheric vessel that brought you here. You have already stolen it from me. Take it to the gate and begone."

He moved toward them, brushing past them so close that Jake felt the whisper of the soft fabric of Zeratul's robe caress his bare arm. For an instant, Jake sensed astonishment, quickly contained, from Zamara. Obviously she hadn't expected the conversation to go this way.

"We shall depart," Zamara said, her mental voice cool and completely in control. "But this is a small world, Zeratul. If you will not deal with us now, you must do so later."

She borrowed Jake's body and bowed. Zeratul missed the gesture; he now stood next to his makeshift dwelling, his body stiff, his back to them. He was utterly silent, his powerful mind locking down on any telltale thought.

Jake and Zamara went to the atmospheric craft that they had, as Zeratul put it with brutal fact, stolen. Jake let Zamara operate the vessel while he sat in a corner of his own body, thoroughly stunned by the developments. Not even lifting off into the rosy sky cheered his spirits.

Zamara—I thought you were chasing a protoss hero. That guy down there—he's a total wreck. .. .1 am aware of that.

I... downloading your memories into a dark templar crystal was our last hope. If we don't do that I'm going to die here.

I am aware of that, too.

So what the hell are we going to do now?

Utter silence. Jake felt panic well up inside him for a moment, a bright frantic flame that was quickly snuffed out by the heavy darkness of complete despair.

They were stuck on a planet, the only other sentient being a protoss so far gone in trauma and self-pity that he was unreachable. The tumors in his brain were growing almost daily, and Zamara, the preserver, who had seen so much, who knew so much, who seemed to have all the answers, who had met every challenge with calm and aplomb, had no idea what to do about any of it.