When he realizes that it's Istredd holding the vines aside, something aches in Wilhelm's chest. He has avoided Istredd since the mage pinned him against the cavern wall to try to force some sense into him. At first, it was prickling pride that shut him out; later, shame. As his zealotry cleared, his certainty that it really was Erik's ghost clouded over. If the Acolytes could make him believe in gods he's never heard of, then what else could they pollute his brain with?

That realization, the loss of Erik all over again, hurt more than any of the wounds shredding his skin.

Despite everything, Istredd stays committed to protecting him. There's no time to say sorry as he throws himself into the tunnel, but he hopes that Istredd understands the glance he lifts to him as the start of an apology.

Much like Kell, he tries very hard not to look back. It's stupid to seek reassurance in what is probably just a hallucination. Unlike Kell, he gives in. Looking over his shoulder, he hopes to see the image of his brother following him into the dark. A sign that everything will be all right.

Instead, it's Kell he sees there. And maybe that's a sign too.