Lucero's stomach muscles seized up and she vomited blood. It splattered on the ground, mixing with the blood of those who had died before, and began to sizzle. She continued to wretch and gag until nothing more would come out of her. With a shaking hand, she wiped the muck from her chin and slowly raised her head.

Oscuro knelt before her, a bemused smile on his dark face. "Impressive, no?"

Lucero wanted to vomit again, wanted to spew her insides all over this hateful creature in front of her, but she was too weak to even spit in his face.

His smile turned to a grin. "And, as they used to say back when I was still young, you ain't seen nothin' yet."

Oscuro stood, and walked behind her, and it took every ounce of strength for Lucero to sit back and watch him. He stood as close to the tip of the spike as he could and raised his arms in welcome. "Masters, Darke bids you to come. Crush the light that has held you back for so long. Come and take what is rightfully yours."

At first, Lucero thought she was hallucinating. The mean cold deepened for a moment, and it felt as if she were suffocating, then something moved at the corner of her vision. She turned her head, just in time to see one of the corpses, a brown-haired girl, stagger to her feet.

The girl's head toppled to the side and stayed that way, the half-moon wound on her throat gaping like a hangman's leer. Then Lucero became aware of movement all around her as the dead came to life and pushed themselves to their feet.

With a quick movement, Oscuro lifted the sacrificial dagger from the altar, and raised it. With two deft slashes, he cut diagonal wounds along his upper left forearm. Then he transferred the knife to his opposite hand, and repeated the process on the right forearm.

No blood flowed from those wounds. Oscuro began chanting in a tongue Lucero couldn't understand, but that hurt her ears.

Several of the zombie-corpses around her began to transform. They doubled over in pain as huge sharp bristles of spiny black hair pierced out of their skin. Their legs and arms changed into furry tentacles, multiplying until there were four on either side of their now-hideous bodies. Their heads flattened, and massive insect mandibles jutted with a gooey crunch sound from the base of their jaws as their eyes split and divided. That was all Lucero had time to see, because at that moment, she was slammed with the full force of the evil across the Chasm. It was a raver's madness, a lunatic's cruelty, a rapist's glee at the subjugation of all it surveyed.

I'm sorry. I'm sor- As Lucero's consciousness faded, the knowledge that her sins had allowed this to happen struck her with desperate force. The hollow, cadaver sound of Oscuro's laughter echoed around her as his new forces made a slow advance toward the light.

Lucero knew it was only a matter of time before the song was silenced. The light quenched.

And like herself, the beauty turned to ugliness.

Abomination.

On the floor of the arboretum, Ryan straddled the cyborg body covered in gore, feeling as if time stood still as Burnout's cold metal fingers squeezed down on his throat. Blackness crept in like ink on the periphery of Ryan's vision as the power of the Dragon Heart surged through him.

Suddenly, Ryan felt Lethe bring his influence to bear, pushing against Ryan's hold on the Dragon Heart.

Ryan knew Lethe wasn't able to use all of his magical strength, because Ryan would never have been able to resist the spirit's full force.

Lethe, why are you doing this? I thought you wanted to help.

"Help you to attain the Dragon Heart so you could keep it for your own? I would much rather this man of wretched metal have the Heart. At least he can be reasoned with, at least he is honorable."

Ryan struggled to understand what Lethe was saying. Then he understood. Lethe, I know what you 're thinking, but you're wrong.

"Am I?" The deep voice was grave. "Even now, I can sense your desire for the Dragon Heart."

Yes, I have a desire for the Heart; its power is seductive, and any man could justify that desire by saying how much good he could accomplish with it. But if you can sense that desire in me, then you've got to be able to sense the fact that I will not keep the Heart for my own.

There was a short pause, and Ryan became aware of Burnout's grasp on his throat, of the cyberzombie's slow-motion movement to bring the Manhunter on target.

"Even though I sense what you say is true, why should I surrender this man, who for the small price of your death, will put forth his entire effort into helping me transport the Dragon Heart to Thayla? You, on the other hand, might still succumb to your own base desires."

Ryan grew desperate. The barrel of the Manhunter was swinging toward his chest, as if in slow motion, targeting the spot where his armor had already been damaged.

Lethe, there is more. Things you don't know. Listen to the truth in my mind. There are only two people on this planet who have the knowledge and the trustworthiness to carry the Dragon Heart across to the astral plane. Two mages specified by Dunkelzahn. Neither of them would have anything to do with Burnout. Everything we are fighting for will have been for nothing.

In that moment, the odds were put on the scales, the risks were calculated. Ryan could sense the spirit's thoughts turning as Lethe made his decision.

"You have still not convinced me that you are devoted to taking the Dragon Heart to Thayla," came Lethe's reply. "I will honor my agreement with Burnout."

Ryan couldn't breathe, and he felt the power of the Dragon Heart fading with the last of his strength. Tiny splotches of black touched his vision, like droplets of dark oil on his eyes. I'm going down.

Burnout targeted the Manhunter, his finger poised on the trigger. But he didn't fire. "I have detected the rise in oxygen," he said. "Any spark would blow this whole room. I think I'll move outside before I riddle your flesh with bullets."

Into Ryan's mind came Dunkelzahn's voice. A follower of the Silent Way uses the terrain to his advantage, Ryan-thusar. Uses all his assets in a fight, even those that seem to be lost.

Grind's voice came dimly, as if from a great distance, yelling, "Get off him, Ryan! I've got the shot! Get clear!"

"Negative, Dhin," came Jane's voice. "At his current position, Quicksilver is not covered by sprinklers. Even if you don't hit him with the sniper gun, he'll buy it in the explosion."

Ryan felt the zen of the Silent Way creep over him as he centered himself. It had been too long since he had felt this way, ever since Roxborough had taken control. Now, as he focused, his spirit meshed with his body in perfect synchrony. And he knew what to do.

Ryan closed his hands over the Dragon Heart, hanging from Burnout's waist in its cloth sling. He brought all of his strength to bear, making sure that his grip was iron-tight.

Then he concentrated and used his telekinetic magic. Ryan nudged Burnout's trigger finger with a focused magic push.

The Manhunter roared, and Ryan could see the muzzle flash just as he heard the distant sound of Grind's heavy-caliber sniper rifle.

Ryan felt the Manhunter bullet blow through his armor and throw him back, knocking the breath from his chest.

Then everything turned the nightmare orange color of Hell. The exposed flesh of his face and hands began to sizzle and cook as he flew through the air. The pain was too great, the force too strong.

Ryan lost his grip on the Dragon Heart.

The skin of Ryan's eyelids split and began to bleed as he closed them against the roaring wall of flame that engulfed him.

His blistering ears could hear the sound of glass shattering above him as the roof blew outward.