"If I could ... evaporate ... into nothing ... I would welcome death. But this is not the case. There are other spheres awaiting us, Seth. The place prepared for my kind ... when we exit this life ... is not pleasant. Which is partly why demons cling to this life for as long as we can. After how I lived ... for thousands of years ... I will have to pay a steep price."
"But you're not the person you were," Seth said. "You've helped me a lot! I'm sure that will count for something."
Graulas huffed and coughed differently than he had before. It almost sounded like a bitter chuckle. "I meddled with your dilemmas ... from my deathbed ... to amuse
myself. Such trivialities will do little to offset centuries of deliberate evil. I have not changed, Seth. I am merely powerless. I have no drive left. As much pain as I am now enduring, I fear that the afterlife ... will hold far greater agonies."
"So what can I do?" Seth wondered.
"One thing only," Graulas growled through clenched lips. His eye squinted shut and his fists tightened. Seth heard teeth grinding. The demon's breath came in sharp, ragged bursts. "One moment," he managed, trembling. Creamy tears oozed from his eyes.
Seth turned away. It was too much to watch. He had never imagined such misery. He wanted to run from the cave and never return.
"One moment," Graulas gasped again. After a few grunts and moans, he began to breathe more deeply. "You can do one thing for me."
"Tell me," Seth said.
"I do not know the purpose of your mission ... but should you recover the Sands of Sanctity ... that artifact could greatly alleviate my suffering."
"But you're so diseased. Wouldn't it kill you?"
"You're thinking of... the unicorn horn. The horn purifies ... and yes ... its touch would slay me. But the Sands heal. They wouldn't just burn away my impurities. The Sands would cure my maladies and help my body survive the process. I would still be dying of old age, but the pain would be lessened, and the healing might even buy me a little more time. Forgive me, Seth. I would not ask ... were I not desperate."
Seth stared at the pathetic ruin the demon's body had become. "The Sphinx has the Sands," he said gently.
"I know," Graulas whispered. "Even the thought... that there is some small chance ... gives me something to dwell upon ... besides... besides..."
"I understand," Seth said.
"I have nothing else to hope for."
"Of course we're trying to get the Sands back," Seth soothed. "I can't say this mission will do that, but of course we hope to recover all of the artifacts. If we can get the Sands of Sanctity, I'll bring the artifact here and heal you. I promise. Okay?"
Discolored tears gushed from the eyes of the demon. He turned his face away. "Fair enough. You have ... my thanks ... Seth Sorenson. Farewell."
"Is there anything else I can--"
"Go. You can do nothing more. I would rather not... be seen ... like this."
"Okay. Hang in there."
Flashlight in hand, Seth exited the cave, relieved to leave behind the humid stench and the naked agony.
Chapter 2 Obsidian Waste
Kendra reclined in the comfy seat and tried to doze, but despite the hypnotically steady whine of the private jet's engines, she could not calm her mind. A string of flights had taken her, Tanu, and Seth from New York to London, then to Singapore, and finally to Perth, the capital of Western Australia, where they had boarded the private jet they currently occupied. At the various airports along the way, Tanu had them ducking into bathrooms to change outfits and taking complicated routes through the terminals. They traveled under assumed names using false identification, all in the hope of avoiding the notice of their enemies in the Society of the Evening Star.
At Perth they had met up with Trask, Mara, Elise, and a guy named Vincent. Trask sat across the aisle from Kendra, filing his nails, his dark scalp gleaming. She was glad he was leading the mission. Her past experiences with him had shown that he remained calm under duress, and he was widely considered the most seasoned field operative among the Knights of the Dawn.
Directly in front of Kendra, Tanu leaned against a window, snoring gently. The Samoan potion master had spent more time asleep than awake on their previous flights. Despite his bulk, he had a knack for dozing on