I dragged a hand through my wet hair as the phone on the other end of the line continued to ring.

"Come on...." I muttered with frustration, pacing from the hall to the dining table and back again in an endless circuit. Cage's eyes, wrinkled at the edges by his unsettling amusement, followed me all the while. "Answer!"

"Perhaps she's indisposed?" the black mage offered with no small amount of amusement as I took the phone from my ear and dialed again. "Or ignoring you. I imagine that's not a new development."

The phone continued to ring and I continued to pace. Why wasn't Amoroth answering? Did she know what an Absolian's descent felt like? Had she already vacated the realm? I couldn't remember when the last Absolian had come and if she had been alive for the event. My thoughts were in such a chaotic jumble, my heart racing in my chest as I trod wet footsteps throughout the house. Did Amoroth know what to do?

Every muscle in my body bunched and coiled with the singular urge to run, but I had nowhere to run. I didn't need to escape. It wasn't after me.

Her answering machine received the call again and rattled off an automated response.

Though I was near oblivious to his presence and hadn't deemed his snide comment worthy of a response, Cage continued to speak. "You know, before you went gallivanting off into the rain like some possessed hippie spirit, I wanted to ask you a bit about that day, about what happened out on the moors in England."

I knew he spoke of the day I'd died. What other day of interest was there to be found out on those wretched lands?

"As I said numerous times before, I do not know what happened," I seethed, squeezing the side of the phone until my fingertips ached. Why wasn't she answering? "I was dead."

"But you didn't see anything afterward? No sudden light? No...darkness?" 

"You don't seem to understand what it means to be dead." I turned to the man and glared, wishing I had the ability to flood my eyes with power still. "If you want to know so badly, why not experience it firsthand?"

He sighed with careless exasperation and draped his arms upon the sofa's back. "Such drama, Darius. I'm simply curious. You shouldn't fault me for that."

"I can certainly find fault in your timing." I forced myself to sit down and hold the quiet phone steady. She knew what to do. I had to tell myself that, simply because I couldn't remember if she really did. I didn't care for Amoroth. For most of her life, I've vacillated between total indifference and frothing fury for the woman. Had I still been a Sin, I wasn't sure I would've cared if she survived an Absolian incursion—but Amoroth was now the last competent Sin alive. She needed to stay that way.

"You lived with Lust for some time after...that day."

"Yes." The phone was slick with sweat from my palms and couldn't keep my eyes from the window. The rain struck the glass with tremendous force, as if the sky itself were beating a war drum to signify the oncoming slaughter. The signs and the feeling in my veins pointed toward there being only one Absolian, but how far behind were the others? When would the rest of the Wandergard disembark?

"Tell me; is it true you helped Sloth return her to life as a Sin? I read a cipher once in the Itherian records reporting the rebirth, but the author couldn't rightly decide if it'd been you or your brother." He framed his own face between his poised fingers. "It's that uncanny family resemblance. It's been wreaking havoc on mage historians for centuries."

"It was me." When Sethan had been sane and I hadn't yet killed him for his role in Sara's torture, my brother and I would swap identities on the rare occasion to sow the exact seeds of confusion Cage was describing. Like swiping a branch over our tracks in the snow, we'd remained far more lethal when we were steeped in secrecy and mystery. If a mage couldn't identify one Sin from another, he had no hope of following his trail.

My attention flicked toward Cage's chest. There was a patch on his otherwise pristine coat right where a badge of office might have been sown. It hadn't escaped my notice that Cage's coat was similar to the ones often worn by mages of the Blue Fire Syndicate.

"Have you not considered asking Amoroth to do the same for your shadeborn?" A coy smile unfurled over his lips as I again tried to reach the Sin of Lust. "Surely she's indebted to you, isn't she? She should feel the need to repay this inequity between you. Wouldn't it be feasible for her to bring Sara back as a Sin and stop your insufferable grousing?"

"No."

"No?" 

The phone kept ringing—and ringing. On it rang without answer, until I snarled in frustration and hurled the damned thing into the wall, where it shattered in mute protest. My entire body ached with the feeling of the Absolian's crossing, my stomach a mess of sick knots—and I didn't know how that was possible. Mortals didn't feel when Absolians entered this realm.

"You think yourself a scholar of Sins but understand nothing." I jerked my legs up from the floor and perched upon the armchair's edge, letting it tip and waver as I found my balance. "Yes, Sloth and I returned Lust to this plane of existence—and nearly killed ourselves to do so. The sheer energy it took to harmonize the Seat's power with her soul and bring it back would confound you. With the death of Sloth and my...mutation, that kind of power does not exist anymore. It would not work."

"Hmm." The mage hummed without indication of distress while the red runes continued to pulsate with their stark, bloody light. "So you have considered it, though? Returning Sara as one of the deceased Sins?"

"No." My vehement response brought on the first genuine look of shock I'd seen Cage display. That befuddlement incensed me, because the man touted himself as an authority on my kind—Sin kind—and understood nothing. "Like all mortals, you hold delusions about what it means to be a Sin. You think it a blessing—you see their immortality, their strength, and their invulnerability and romanticize that life. It's a curse."

Cage said nothing, and I realized my voice had risen a considerable volume. The need to pace was maddening, and yet I kept myself in that seat as I continued to suck air through my teeth and listened to the hurried thumping of my heart. The red light of the runes touched Cage's face, and by their crimson illumination, his eyes seemed to gleam like dying suns.

"Do you mean to say you think being dead is better than being a Sin?"

My hands knotted together as I stared at the busted phone on the floor. "Don't assume you know what I mean to say. You don't understand. Your mind is too narrow, mortal, to conceive the difficulty such an existence presents. The Sins are not immortal. They are not strong. They are not invulnerable. They are wildly hated, hunted, chased, and brutalized."

He leaned on his upheld hand and his long fingers framed one of his strange eyes. "I don't pity you. After all, Sins like Lust and Greed can hardly complain about the lives they get to lead. Amoroth is a billionaire and Greed is an international celebrity."

I didn't question how Cage knew who Danyel was, as I'd already surmised that he knew far too much information about the identities of the Sins. "They own nothing. They are tools to be wielded and broken on the whims of their hosts, just like the rest of us—them. Sins who are clever like Amoroth or just plain lucky like Danyel may be able to surround themselves with wealth, but it is of little comfort. Amoroth may have built Verweald and may lord over it, but it will never be hers, because she will never belong here. This will never be her home.

"Greed may have a legion of adoring fans and more money than sense, but it's not his. It belongs to Daniel Fairchild, and while he may delight in donning that mask, it will never be who he is. He is a Sin. Reviled. Hated. He is a vagabond who steals the vestments of a great man and wears them for a time, but Greed will always be a Sin beneath those clothes. He will always be a poor parasite upon this realm who must kill, maim, and destroy others to survive."

I stood, and Cage tipped his head to keep his gaze upon me. "You asked if I wanted to bring Sara back as a Sin. Say it were possible. Say I managed it, and she became a Sin. Then what? For a short time, I would be here for her. I would teach her how to survive, and it wouldn't be pretty. I would teach her to lie and steal and kill. Eventually, she would have to watch me die. Lust and Greed would be her seniors—the former a self-serving bitch and the latter a sniveling traitor. She would live in fear of Absolians, of being chased by the syndicates and their Cult of the River. She'd be tormented by the Baal and by liars and cheaters and every other who dares enter this plane. Like a dog, she'd be worked, whipped, and hunted, all while she slowly lost everything that made her who she was."

My fists were clenched so tightly my arms were trembling. "That existence was enough for me. I was trash. I was Pride, and I had no identity beyond that. It is not something Sara deserves, and I would not wish it upon her."

I went to pace into the kitchen, when Cage's next question drew me short. 

"Even if it meant seeing her one more time? Even then, Darius?"

Blinking, I had to wonder if I was that selfish. I knew it wasn't possible now, but if it were and I was able to convince Amoroth to attempt it, would I beg Lust to do so? Would I doom Sara to an eternal life of strife, servitude, and loneliness just to see her alive again?

Would she forgive me? Could I forgive myself?

"No," I whispered, my words weaker than I wished them to be. "No, I wouldn't do that to her."

I walked into the kitchen and scoured the countertops until I could find the car keys.

On the sofa, the black mage straightened his posture. "Where are you going?"

"To find Amoroth."

Cage snorted, then twisted the fingers of his right hand in a swift, decisive pattern. The keys vanished from my grasp and appeared in his.

"Oh, no you're not. We were sitting here having a very respectable conversation! You're quite talkative when you're jumpy. You said more than ten words, only insulted me a handful of times, and only threatened my life once! That's quite an improvement."

"Give me those!" I demanded, marching forward with my palm up-faced. "Or I promise to make good on that death threat!"

Cage looped the key-ring about his forefinger and swung the keys in circles, grinning as if the world beyond the window wasn't crumbling in upon itself. "What if there was a way to bring her back? Not as a Sin, of course, but as her sweet mortal self?"

I didn't correct the man by telling him Sara was about as sweet as biting into a lemon—but I did roll my eyes. "Not hardly. If such a miracle existed, don't you think I would know of it? It's impossible. Resurrection is only a myth."

"Says the dead man."

I sneered. "Says me, the man who lived when your ancestors were children."

"Are you sure it doesn't exist? Or is that just your pride talking?" 

Grabbing Cage's arm, I fought the urge to strangle the mage—knowing he was regretfully stronger than I was. "Give me the damn keys."

He didn't free himself. Indeed, the mage looked rather amused at my paltry attempt to restrain him. Sometimes, when his gaze met mine, I sensed an inner darkness akin to my own shifting within the mage, and it set my teeth on edge. It was...familiar.

"And if it is possible? Are you going to squander the opportunity because your hubris won't let you admit there was something you knew nothing about?"

My grip faltered.

"I swear, I will bring her back!"

Those had been my words in Amoroth's apartment after I awoke from death. In my fervor, I'd meant what I'd said with every nuance of my being, but time had the despicable tendency of imparting reason and logic when they aren't welcome. Never in my years had I heard of someone completing a successful resurrection. I knew the Dying King was capable of some semblance of revival—but he was far, far beyond my reach, and would never lower himself to serve another King's subject. Beyond him, there wasn't a shred of magic in Terrestria or all of the Vale that would bring a person back from the dead.

It wasn't possible. I knew that, and yet....

"Speak plainly, mage," I said without inflection to my voice. "What do you mean?"

Cage stopped spinning the keys and they landed in his open hand with an audible jangle of metal on metal. Below the storm's tantrum, I could hear the mage's remorseless laughter rumbling in his chest. He was enjoying the silent desolation growing anew in my expression.

"Maybe you could see her again," he replied, yawning, as shadows cavorted in his ancient, knowing eyes. "If you asked nicely enough."

I began to respond—with what, I didn't know. My heart had leapt into my throat as the man spoke, and though I told myself Cage was goading me, a sliver of humility I'd thought long dead shuddered in my gut and demanded I ask the black mage to help.

A draft of ashen wind broke through the living room as the Sin of Lust appeared from the Realm, dripping clear rivers of rainwater marred with a strain of red blood. Her normally curled hair was lank as it hung about her pale face—and Amoroth was glaring at Cage with clear desperation.

"Sorry to interrupt," she spat as she flung her hair from her vivid eyes. Her sleeve was ripped, the skin below riddled with torn bite marks, and the color of her blouse was peppered with pink, smeared fingerprints. "But I need you to get me out of here."

"What happened?" I demanded, eyeing her injuries and the state of her suit. I knew she hadn't run into the Absolian. If she had, she would be dead.

"Vampires happened," she quipped as her eyes jumped between me and the black mage. "I don't know why or what or who or any of that shit—only that they were at Jackson's estate, and they've taken him somewhere. I can't find him."

That was not welcome news. "You have to find him," I told her without pause. "You have to find him now. You have to get out of the city, because if you haven't realized it yet, there's an Absolian!"

"Oh, really?" Amoroth snarled with no small amount of sarcasm. "I hadn't noticed—though that may have been the whole reason I went to find Jackson in the first place!"

My teeth came together with a hard click as I again considered the crazed behavior of Sethan's wayward children. If Amoroth didn't escape.... "The vampires—."

"I haven't the time, Darius." The woman passed the sofa and spoke to the mage, ignoring my presence. "You told me you'd be here, and so I've come as my last resort. Get me to the Gate. Get me there now."

Of course, I thought as I turned to see the Sin looming over the lounging man. She didn't come here for me. What could a mere mortal human do to help her?

"Why not go yourself?" Cage pointed out, scratching his scruffy chin. "You needn't come to me for this."

"Because, I cannot go through the Realm." Her tone was exasperated and stretched each syllable of her words. "I can't enter the Realm without attracting the Absolian's attention, and...and I need you to open the Gate for me." Amoroth wiped her face and I noted how her legs were quivering with either stress or fear. "Please."

I knew what Gate she spoke of. Its presence on the outskirts of Verweald was one of the many reason Amoroth had chosen to build her metropolis in this location. The Gate was a thin spot between Terrestria, the Realm of Sin, and the Pit—one of several dips where the skeins of the void were strained and thus more permeable to passage. It was where we—the Sins—often entered Terrestria when searching for hosts, as it took less strength to materialize and thus let the Sins remain for longer stretches of time before sending them back.

If the black mage could weaken the barrier further, then it was possible Amoroth could escape through the Realm and directly enter the Pit. Such strain upon her anchor could sever her tie to Jackson and render his death unneeded. It wouldn't be a painless option for the Sin of Lust and it may not work—but it would give her time.

It was her only chance.

Cage hadn't responded, so I stepped forward to snatch the keys from him before he could react. "I will drive you," I said to Amoroth, though I had little desire to leave. I wanted to question the mage more, to demand an answer to his babbling, and if he'd been lying to me, I swore I'd kill him. For now, it was imperative to get Amoroth out of Terrestria. She needed to survive or the future Sins were doomed.

I glowered at the mage. "You can stay if you want, but do consider how she just used the Realm to get here. If the Absolian noted it, he or she will be on their way within minutes."

I could tell he hadn't thought of that. Grimacing, Cage exhaled and got to his feet. "And here I was hoping for a quiet night at home...."