Against the flowing blood, the music refused to dim. The song sounded strong and bright, beating against the ever-widening circle of blood and sacrifices.

Lucero stood at the edge of the dark patch, oblivious to the limbs of the dead that lay slippery under her feet. Her heart strained toward the music, toward the light, even as her need struggled backward, behind her to the familiar form of Senor Oscuro as he spilled more blood.

Something was different this time. Even with the Gestalt, even with the tapped power of the Locus, his work was far more difficult than before. He grimaced in pain as he worked, wincing in the struggle just to move around.

Lucero turned to watch him, with a feeling of fear and pity. He could never understand the music, could never know its beauty, because unlike Lucero, his entire soul was a wasteland of silence and darkness.

Oscuro had given up on single sacrifices, and had brought several acolytes with him. He was killing them two at a time. His muscular forearm rippled as he made the slash, and the two girls lying side by side on the flesh altar sprayed blood.

Oscuro's face was a mask of pain as he used the skull of one of the dead as a crude Chac-Mool, catching the blood of the sacrifices in the hollowed-out cavity. Once the Chac-Mool was filled, Oscuro staggered to the edge of the circle just meters from Lucero.

Pulling his hand from the skull's empty eye sockets, he let blood splash out, completing the circle.

Suddenly, the air grew darker, and the music dimmed.

I'm sorry, she prayed to the light. Please forgive me for what is being done to you.

With that thought, she felt the gray spot in her soul grow lighter, and with it, the music raised in volume just a notch.

Oscuro fell to one knee, and his panting breath could be heard over the sound of the singing. He looked up at Lucero and smiled, the look in his eyes chilling her gut.

"That was a close one, my child. I thought the slitch would take me before I finished the barrier."

His tone was ragged, as if he had just run a long distance, and he wiped dark liquid away from his forehead.

He's sweating blood, realized Lucero. She had thought he was just covered in the blood of his sacrifices, but where he'd wiped the blood away, she could see fresh blood bead up on the pale, sickly looking skin.

He looked her in the eye, studying her for a moment, and Lucero was filled with panic. He knows! she thought. How could he not know? I'm the reason he has to struggle so hard. Now, he's looked into my eyes and seen my love for the music, my desire for the light.

He sees the graying of my soul.

Oscuro smiled. "Help me to stand, child. I know you cannot help the sacrifices because of the delicate balance you have to maintain, but that does not mean you can't give your master a hand to his feet."

Lucero swallowed the lump of fear in her throat, and stepped forward to the bearded man.

He stretched forward a bloody hand, and with a shudder, she grabbed it in her own and pulled.

Oscuro stood, keeping her hand in his. Eye to eye, Lucero became acutely aware of the stench of blood, the sweet aroma of her addiction. She licked her lips nervously as her hunger grew.

Suddenly, a smile formed on Oscuro's face-a smile full of gentleness and concern. Lucero's fear faded, and she couldn't understand how she had ever felt pity for the amazing man.

"Little one, you have withstood so much, and have accomplished so much for me. You are truly a remarkable servant."

She bowed her head. "Thank you, Master."

His bloody hand slipped under her chin, and raised her head to look him in the eyes.

To her, he took on the look of something dangerously beautiful. The blood that covered him beckoned to her, and she found herself wishing she could kiss him, could lick the blood from his face, from his hands.

The music rose.

No! she thought. I will resist the blood temptation.

Pain flashed across Oscuro's face and he took a step away from her.

Lucero looked down at herself, and she could see the dull glow coming from inside. She was lightening the circle!

The dull glow filtered outward from her, forcing Oscuro away. His expression went from pain to determination. "I must go now."

She stood in awe of what was happening to her. The music grew louder and louder to her, until Oscuro had to yell to be heard.

"You will come with me."

Her voice cracked as she said, "Why?"

He forced a smile. "Your spirit is strong, but the balance is upset. You will not be allowed to go into the light. It will destroy you." He had backed away almost to the piled corpses at the edge of the dark circle.

Then, just as Lucero's dim light reached the brittle edge of the dark circle, Oscuro waved his hand in the air. A casual gesture that made a funnel of the world. The funnel sucked her down into a river of darkness.

Behind her, the music and the light plowed over the dark circle, purifying it. Bathing out its filth with beauty and perfect harmony. Brilliant and pure white.

But she was too far away to touch it, to hear it. She rushed down the flow of dark current and screamed. And she was still screaming as her spirit slammed into her meat body.

In the cold rain, Ryan watched Miranda fall. The bear-man brought her down across his knee, and the crack of her back as she landed ripped through the clearing.

Miranda's scream held a note of agony, and for a moment, the gray world around Ryan went still. He felt rain on his face, pain in his shoulder and gut, but it all seemed so distant.

Focus returned with Miranda's second scream, snapping Ryan back to reality. He clicked into full alert, senses heightened, reflexes as taut as mono wire. He ran at the bear-man, easily ducking inside the nature spirit.

Once close, Ryan fired his Ingram and prepared to close the final meters.

No spirits manifested to block the barrage of bullets, and the man came apart, erupting in a spray of crimson that painted the trees. The bear-man began to turn, but only made it halfway around when Ryan's burst took out his knees and he crumpled into a heap. Freed, the spirits vanished into astral space.

Dead.

Then Ryan was on him, pushing around him to get to Miranda.

She lay like a broken doll, her legs jutting away from the rest of her torso in an impossible position. Her face was streaked with blood and grime; her hair, where it hadn't been burned off, was plastered to her head, like a dirty helmet.

Blood came from her mouth, and she was missing several teeth.

Ryan almost couldn't bear the sight. There was a sharp pain in his heart, and he accepted responsibility. "Dhin, I'm bringing Miranda in. Get ready to take her for emergency medical treatment."

"On it."

"Axler?"

"I'm here, Quicksilver," came Axler's voice. "Chewed up but not spit out."

"You going to make it?"

Axler chuckled. "It's nothing a few hundred kay nuyen won't fix."

"Glad to hear it," Ryan said. "Sit tight and keep your Nikons peeled for Burnout. He's still out there."

Miranda opened her eyes and looked at him. Her voice was like that of a child, soft and breathless. "Ryan."

Ryan knelt. "I'm here, Miranda."

"No… invasive treatment."

Ryan nodded. For a mage, putting metal into the body, any kind of invasive treatment, meant losing power.

She swallowed, and more blood escaped her lips. "Fragger dead?"

Ryan turned and rolled the huge form over, and stared in surprise. Huge, the destroyed face was still ringed by dirty white whiskers. The top of the man's head was completely gone. "He's dead," Ryan said.

Miranda smiled and closed her eyes.