He snatches his hand back, as if Kell's touch burns. Illusions. Lies. That's what Istredd had called it too. Wilhelm is so desperate to keep alive this one light in the darkness, that any attempts to put it out put him on the defensive. What was annoyance before flares into aggravation.

"It's not just illusions!" The fire seems to burn hotter as his voice rises. He's forgotten about the rat he's supposed to be tending. Without realizing what he's doing, he brandishes the shard of rock at Kell. "It's not."

He shakes his head vehemently, but he doesn't know how to explain without admitting that he's been hearing his brother's ghost. Not just hearing him — speaking with him, long talks that fill the empty hours when he should be sleeping. Erik sounds just like he did in life, all warm reassurance and brotherly teasing. How the fuck would the Acolytes know anything about that?