you are?”
“Yes.”
“An angel?”
“The word does not encompass even the smallest part of what I am, but in such terms as you are capable of comprehending, that is correct.”
The peace that had filled him evaporated in the face of a rising terror. “What can I ask for?”
“The limitations of your petition are governed only by the terms you set and by your willingness to pay the price required.”
“What if I choose not to ask for anything, or I don’t want to pay the price?”
“Then the Gates of Morning will close, and your allegiance to the Red Wind will come into play. The Gates of Midnight will open, and your soul will seek out an agent of the lower planes to hear your petition.”
The terror was fully formed now. “So if I don’t ask you for anything, then a demon will come for me?”
“Yes.”
“What if I don’t ask it for anything either?”
“Then the ritual will be complete. Your soul will be freed from Jiao-long’s spell, the flames will consume your body, and you will die.”
Rory started to sigh in relief then caught himself. “Wait. What happens after that?”
“When your soul is released from your body, you will ascend to face judgment for your actions in the first and second lives.”
“So if I die now, I’ll be judged for killing Take and Ana?”
“Yes.”
Rory let himself feel a faint hope for salvation. “Can I ask to turn back the clock—so that I don’t become a vampire or kill the others?”
“Yes. However, the price for that service would be the knowledge of the future you are attempting to avoid, and no person may invoke the Pact Arcanum on his own behalf more than once. Events would unfold similarly, but the second time, the flames would consume your body without pause and you would join your friends in death.”
Anger began to replace terror. “So much for no limitations.”
“Every bargain has a price, Sean Magister Jiao-long. Magic requires sacrifice.”
“All I want is to undo what I did. I want to give them back their lives!” Rory was shouting now, practically screaming in frustration and guilt. “Can you give me that? Can you let me raise the dead?”
The voice was silent for a long moment. Then it returned louder and stronger than before, along with a music that Rory could almost, but not quite, make out. “YES.”
He was driven to his knees by the power and triumph of that single word. The silent music flowed through him, making his soul vibrate in harmony with notes he could almost hear, but immediately forgot.
“We have waited long for you, Sean Magister Jiao-long, waited for the one who would ask the right question, the question that would remake the world.”
The music faded, and Rory tasted his tears, falling in response to the indescribable beauty that his mind had touched but could not hold. His tears were salt water, not blood—his traveling soul uncorrupted by his new physical nature. He couldn’t speak.
The voice continued. “The human sorceress who created the Sentinel Gift asked for the means to fight the vampire threat. That was the wrong question. You have asked the right question—the question that will allow you to drive the Red Wind from your world.”
Rory forced the words from his lips. “I don’t understand.”
“You have asked to raise the dead. We can give you the power to call the soul back to the body and instill a new spirit.”
“What does that have to do with fighting vampires?”
“When used on a lifeless mortal body, this power will restore the soul and replace the lost breath of life with the spirit of the White Wind. When used on the immortal body of a vampire, the power will return the soul to the body. If the soul is welcomed back, the White Wind will displace the Red.”
“A cure.” Rory finally understood. “A cure for vampirism.”
“Yes.”
“Will this power make a vampire human again?”
“No. The physical changes generated by the Red Wind will remain. But the bloodlust, the
“Yes.”
“An angel?”
“The word does not encompass even the smallest part of what I am, but in such terms as you are capable of comprehending, that is correct.”
The peace that had filled him evaporated in the face of a rising terror. “What can I ask for?”
“The limitations of your petition are governed only by the terms you set and by your willingness to pay the price required.”
“What if I choose not to ask for anything, or I don’t want to pay the price?”
“Then the Gates of Morning will close, and your allegiance to the Red Wind will come into play. The Gates of Midnight will open, and your soul will seek out an agent of the lower planes to hear your petition.”
The terror was fully formed now. “So if I don’t ask you for anything, then a demon will come for me?”
“Yes.”
“What if I don’t ask it for anything either?”
“Then the ritual will be complete. Your soul will be freed from Jiao-long’s spell, the flames will consume your body, and you will die.”
Rory started to sigh in relief then caught himself. “Wait. What happens after that?”
“When your soul is released from your body, you will ascend to face judgment for your actions in the first and second lives.”
“So if I die now, I’ll be judged for killing Take and Ana?”
“Yes.”
Rory let himself feel a faint hope for salvation. “Can I ask to turn back the clock—so that I don’t become a vampire or kill the others?”
“Yes. However, the price for that service would be the knowledge of the future you are attempting to avoid, and no person may invoke the Pact Arcanum on his own behalf more than once. Events would unfold similarly, but the second time, the flames would consume your body without pause and you would join your friends in death.”
Anger began to replace terror. “So much for no limitations.”
“Every bargain has a price, Sean Magister Jiao-long. Magic requires sacrifice.”
“All I want is to undo what I did. I want to give them back their lives!” Rory was shouting now, practically screaming in frustration and guilt. “Can you give me that? Can you let me raise the dead?”
The voice was silent for a long moment. Then it returned louder and stronger than before, along with a music that Rory could almost, but not quite, make out. “YES.”
He was driven to his knees by the power and triumph of that single word. The silent music flowed through him, making his soul vibrate in harmony with notes he could almost hear, but immediately forgot.
“We have waited long for you, Sean Magister Jiao-long, waited for the one who would ask the right question, the question that would remake the world.”
The music faded, and Rory tasted his tears, falling in response to the indescribable beauty that his mind had touched but could not hold. His tears were salt water, not blood—his traveling soul uncorrupted by his new physical nature. He couldn’t speak.
The voice continued. “The human sorceress who created the Sentinel Gift asked for the means to fight the vampire threat. That was the wrong question. You have asked the right question—the question that will allow you to drive the Red Wind from your world.”
Rory forced the words from his lips. “I don’t understand.”
“You have asked to raise the dead. We can give you the power to call the soul back to the body and instill a new spirit.”
“What does that have to do with fighting vampires?”
“When used on a lifeless mortal body, this power will restore the soul and replace the lost breath of life with the spirit of the White Wind. When used on the immortal body of a vampire, the power will return the soul to the body. If the soul is welcomed back, the White Wind will displace the Red.”
“A cure.” Rory finally understood. “A cure for vampirism.”
“Yes.”
“Will this power make a vampire human again?”
“No. The physical changes generated by the Red Wind will remain. But the bloodlust, the
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