“The Shadow!” I cry, coming to a standstill, eyes widening with horror.

I’m trembling. It all makes horrible sense now. Beranabus was right—the Shadow is the greatest threat we’ve ever faced. Only it’s far worse than he imagined. You can’t cheat death and you can’t hide from it.

“Precisely,” Raz sighs. “Since death claims all things, Death knows where all things are. The body of Death can only thrive in an area of magic, so it resides in the demon universe. But its reach extends to all worlds. It can guide the Demonata to wherever there is life.”

“But why is it working for them?” I moan.

Raz makes a humming noise. “This is speculation, but we believe the Demonata and Death share a common goal—the restoration of the Kah-Gash. If they achieve it, the lifeforms of this universe will cease to exist. The Demonata will return to their immortal ways. The Old Creatures will drift along sadly. And Death’s task will be vastly lessened.”

“What task?” I frown.

“The harvesting of souls. Death’s job is far harder now than it was before the Big Bang—so many souls to process. It seems to think the job is too hard, and is working to—as you humans would aptly put it—lighten its workload.”

“We have to stop it,” I gasp. “We have to find the Shadow and destroy it. If Death has a body, it can be attacked. If we kill it, maybe its mind will unravel.”

“We do not think it is possible to kill Death,” Raz murmurs. “It will simply put another body together. There will never be a shortage of souls.”

“The Kah-Gash,” I snap. “We can use that.”

Raz makes a face. “The Kah-Gash never had power over death. Also, as I said, it might have worked through Bec to grant Death consciousness in the first place. The Kah-Gash has changed. In the past, the pieces cut random paths through the universes. But since Bec defied death, the other parts have worked their way to your planet. They both cropped up there shortly after she died. We could do nothing about Bec’s piece—she was beyond our grasp—but we directed the other pair into forms of our choosing and sent them far away.

“They escaped and returned to Earth, in Grubitsch Grady and you.”

“You think the Kah-Gash wants to reunite?” I frown.

“It looks that way. Perhaps the Kah-Gash wishes to fight Death, to preserve the universes. Or maybe it too yearns for a return to simpler ways, and is using Death to achieve its goal. We don’t know. We can only fear.”

“I guess there’s only one way to find out,” I grunt. “We have to go back. I’ll join with Bec and Grubbs, try to control the Kah-Gash, and hope for the best. There’s no other way, is there?”

“Actually,” Raz coughs, “there is. But you’re not going to like it…”

When we cross to the next world, I find myself on a large, circular, metallic platform. It’s covered by a domed glass roof. There are banks of sophisticated-looking computers running along the sides.

“Not so sophisticated really,” Raz murmurs. “This was designed as a viewing station by one of the lesser species. We could have arranged a more advanced craft, but they like to do things themselves. Look down.”

I nudge to the edge, not sure what to expect. As I approach, panels of glass slide back and a telescope revolves into place before me.

A world like Earth lies a few miles below. There are massive buildings, wide roads, parks, and ponds. Some of the buildings have glass roofs or are open-topped. I can see all sorts of creatures moving around inside them, a bewildering variety of animals, birds, lizards, and more, many defying description.

“It looks like a zoo,” I remark.

“It is,” Raz says. “But all of them have souls and are here of their own choice. They know of the Demonata and the threat this universe faces, and have pledged themselves to our cause.”

The air hums with magic. As I cast my gaze around, I spot lodestones dotted everywhere, of all shapes and sizes.

“It’s an ark,” Raz says. “You know the biblical story of the ark, how Noah took in a pair of every species and spared them from the flood.”

“Was that real?” I ask.

“It doesn’t matter,” he waves the question away. “Our ark is real, and we have to deal with far worse than a flood. This is why you’re here, why we’ve shown you all that you’ve seen and revealed so much.”

“I don’t get it. You want me to live here?”

Raz laughs. “We’d have brought you here directly if that was the case, telling you only as much as you needed to know, as we did with the others. There are already humans on this ark. Your people are not among the more advanced, but we brought some here anyway, for you.”

“I’m still lost,” I mutter.

“We want you to be the new Noah,” Raz says. “We want you to protect these creatures and guide them, evading the Demonata and Death, always remaining one step ahead of those who would destroy them. We want you to save the universe.”

It sounds ridiculous. I’m tempted to laugh. Except I know Raz isn’t joking.

“How?” I whisper.

“We’ve planted scores of lodestones across this planet,” Raz says. “Enough to last an eternity. This is a world of never-ending magical energy. We designed it to be a haven, a warship, a nursery. Food will always be abundant. Species will never struggle with infertility. Magicians will be born to every generation.”

“You’re going to make a last stand here?” I frown. “This is a fortress?”

“No fortress could stand against our enemies,” Raz says. “If this world was a thousand times more powerful than it is, it still wouldn’t hold long against a mass demon attack. The Demonata don’t know about the ark yet, but they’ll discover it eventually and come. When they arrive, it must not be here.”

“Huh?” I gape.

“We will ensure they never open a tunnel to this world, by guarding each stone zealously. With no direct route of attack, Death will lead them to nearby planets and they’ll launch armies from there. When that happens… when the net is closing and the end looks certain… it will be your time.”

“What am I supposed to do?” I scowl. “Hold up a STOP sign?”

“You will open a window and slip away to another part of the universe,” Raz says. “And you’ll take the planet with you.”

He says it so simply that at first I nod as if it’s no big thing. Then it hits me and I turn from the edge of the platform and stare incredulously.

“Take the planet with me?” I repeat stupidly.

“When you’ve opened windows before, others have been able to slip through. This will be similar, only you’ll have to open a bigger window.”

“You’re insane!” I yelp. “I’ve never opened a window more then seven or eight feet tall.”

“That’s because you never needed a larger window,” Raz says calmly. “You can do far more than you’ve demanded of yourself. With our guidance you’ll learn to open a larger window and curve it, so it surrounds the world. That way, rather than propel the world through the window, it can close around the planet.”

I stare at Raz wordlessly. I don’t know what to think.

“Think of victory,” Raz growls. “Think of life. Think of the demons you’ll defy, the doom you’ll spare everyone here.”

“It’s impossible…”

“No,” Raz insists. “It can work. That’s no guarantee that it will—there might be obstacles ahead that we can’t predict—but we believe in the plan.”

My mind’s whirling. “But when I die, my piece of the Kah-Gash will link up with the others. You’ve already said you can’t control it.”

Raz clears his throat. “That brings us to the part you’re not going to like. As you say, we won’t be able to harness your piece of the Kah-Gash when you die, so we need to find a way around that. Kernel, what would you think if we asked you to make the ultimate sacrifice for the sake of the universe?”