a nightmare, that it was. For that planet was inhabited, and had received, from its residents, a special name: Z'ha'dum.
It made no sense that Elizar and Razeel would be there. That would not be the place to test his spell of destruction.
In any event, he must not go there. He had sworn to control himself, to hold to his task. A hard shiver ran through him as he thought of crushing the Shadows, of destroying them and their home utterly, once and for all. If he went to Z'ha'dum, how could he stop himself from trying?
Yet Elizar and Razeel were there, awaiting him. And going to Z'ha'dum, now that he thought about it, seemed inevitable. He was good only for destruction; he was destined for darkness. Where else would his long road end, but at the heart of darkness? He must simply maintain control, no matter how difficult, and complete his task.
To do that, he required information from Morden, or he would be destroyed as he approached Z'ha'dum, just as G'Leel's comrades had been. At the thought of pulling the information from Morden, a new rush of energy bloomed through him.
Morden rubbed his forehead. "What exactly is your point?"
"I'm giving you the chance to be rid of the Shadow influence," Galen said, his voice cold. "I need to know how to breach the defense net around Z'ha'dum and arrive there undetected. Tell me that, and I will destroy the implant within your brain and take you to safety. You need serve them no longer."
When Morden refused the offer, Galen would have his confirmation of Morden's true nature. Then he could torture the Shadows' agent for the information, and finally kill him.
Morden began to laugh, a hollow, broken sound.
The reaction bothered Galen, though he did not know why. "If you do not tell me willingly, then you will tell