"As bad as can be," he answered. "Go in and speak to him, Jasmine. It will help him."
He opened the door softly. As Jasmine entered, Al'mah with a glance of pity and friendship at the face upon the bed, passed into another room.
There was a cry in Jasmine's heart, but it did not reach her lips.
She stole to the bed and laid her fingers upon the hand lying white and still upon the coverlet.
At once the eyes of the dying man opened. This was a touch that would reach to the farthest borders of his being—would bring him back from the Immortal Gates. Through the mist of his senses he saw her. He half raised himself. She pillowed his head on her breast. He smiled. A light transfigured his face.
"All's well," he said, with a long sigh, and his body sank slowly down.
"Ian! Ian!" she cried, but she knew that he could not hear.