For one instance, he saw her as she had been. He remembered why he had gone to her. She had been strong, before. His massive jaw parted, tongue tasting the air between his teeth. How badly he wished for her to succeed—it was not what he desired, but oh, the child would die. Then she hesitated. Her hands withdrew. The magic was broken and with it the shackles that held him. Tak walked with his strong muscles, his heavy body, and he announced himself with a single deep rumble. If he startled her, she might go with that child into the rocks and black ocean below.
“You have to kill it,” he said stonily. There was no room for argument within him. If she did not believe him then, how could she deny it now? He could do whatever more she asked; he bowed to her will as he did to Sirius, he no longer asked her where she went, but she could not deny this. “Tak will take it one way or another,” the Arbiter growled, a cold wind cutting through his pelt. The night-demon was with them; he walked all corners of the world, and he came for what was his.
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