"Of course," Jarvis said, cutting me off as he added: "You deserve nothing less. Now take my hand. I shall need to draw from your power in order to call up the wormhole."

Without any of the hard-core, question-everything att.i.tude I was usually guilty of, I did as the faun said and slipped my hand back into his. I felt a jolt of stinging electricity flow from my fingers directly into the faun. The raw power was so intense I could literally feel Jarvis's body spasm as it flooded into him. He gripped my hand hard, his jaw clenched tight against the pain, but he refused to cry out even though he was clearly suffering. In all my Afterlife adventuring, I'd never personally been on the tendering end of anything as potent as the power surge we were experiencing. I had hopes that the catalyst was the three inches of water we were sitting in while trying to open the wormhole, but I was pretty sure this was only wishful thinking.

Another burst of energy shot through my body-I was beginning to wish I had a circuit breaker-and my head began to throb as a deafening crack split the atmosphere around us, charging the air with electricity. All the hair on my body bristled and I could taste the electrical current with my tongue. Another booming crack split the air, almost as if a mini thunderstorm had found its way into the bathroom, and a pinp.r.i.c.k of light appeared, hanging like a crystalline teardrop in the middle of the room. The overhead lights began to strobe and then went out completely, which should have reduced my visibility down to zero, but I found I could see just as well in the dark as I could in the glare of the fluorescent light.

I watched, fascinated, as the wormhole began to unfold like a lotus flower, each petal of light ripping apart the darkness until it had rent a gaping hole right in the very fabric of time and s.p.a.ce, enticing us forward. I was entranced by the wormhole, the way its edges sputtered and twirled with energy as it continued to eat away at the darkness. It seemed to grow larger with every second, consuming more and more of the matter surrounding it.

"You ready?" I asked, slipping my arms around his rib cage and lifting him onto his hooves. He didn't answer me, merely nodded his head. Together, we stepped forward, the humid heat from the other side of the wormhole steam-cleaning my pores.

"It's like a sauna in there," I said, my voice starting to go hoa.r.s.e from all the beating my throat had taken. "Where does it go?"

Again Jarvis didn't answer me but, instead, took another step toward the wormhole. I grabbed him by the arm, pulling him back to me. I wanted some kind of a.s.surance we weren't going back to h.e.l.l. I'd spent a good chunk of the last few months wandering around the place, and I had no intention of going back there without my knowledge.

"If that thing's going to h.e.l.l," I began, digging in my heels, "then I'm staying in the flood plain."

Jarvis raised his head so he was looking into my eyes.

"I swear on my life that we will not be visiting h.e.l.l," Jarvis said.

"Okay," I replied, feeling like I'd gotten back at least some some control over the situation. "Let's do this thing." control over the situation. "Let's do this thing."

I let Jarvis take my hand, giving him no resistance as he pulled me toward the light. Suddenly, the bathroom door flew open and my now former boss, Hyacinth Stewart, stood framed in the doorway, her spun white gold hair like a halo around her head. She wasn't in the same outfit I'd last seen her in-apparently she was a quick-change artist-but instead had donned a thin white sheath dress and a flowing cloak of what appeared, upon first glance, to be falcon feathers.

"Stay away from the wormhole," she intoned, forcing her way through the door and into the bathroom, the bottom of her cloak seeming to magically float just above the waterline.

"Okay, hold on there-" I began, but Hyacinth placed one meaty hand on my shoulder and the other on Jarvis's and physically drew us away from the wormhole.

"They are monitoring all the wormholes. It isn't safe for you to travel this way," Hyacinth said to Jarvis, who stared up at the hulking woman, gla.s.sy-eyed-with l.u.s.t or pain, I couldn't have told you which.

"Come away from here before they discover that you were the ones who called it," she continued, pointing to the fast-growing seam of light.

"I had no idea," Jarvis whispered, more to himself than to Hyacinth.

"It wasn't for you to know," she barked back at him. "Come."

She didn't wait for us to respond before she spun us around, dragging us out of the war-torn bathroom like two limp rag dolls. Hyacinth slammed the door closed behind us, a muscle-relaxing sense of relief flooding my body. I hadn't realized how tense the situation had made me until I was out of it.

"Where can we go?" Jarvis asked as we followed Hyacinth down the hallway.

"This way," she urged, guiding us away from the crowd of office workers who were surrounding the kitchen-obviously, someone had found Robert's p.r.o.ne body.

As we ran, it seemed like Jarvis and I were forced to take two steps for every one of Hyacinth's. Call me crazy, but I was pretty certain my boss had grown like five inches since I'd last seen her. After all the weird stuff I'd been exposed to since Jarvis had unspelled me from my Forgetting Charm, I knew that when someone presented themselves as completely normal and then suddenly did something totally abnormal right in front of you, it meant they were not not totally human. totally human.

"I have a way out. It's not magical, but it should do the trick," Hyacinth-who wasn't really Hyacinth, my boss, anymore-said. She led us to the emergency exit stairwell and pushed open the door, setting the alarm off. It began to screech like a banshee, but this didn't faze Hyacinth-she merely waved her hand across the doorframe and the sound instantly ceased.

"Nice," I offered as she held the door open for Jarvis, who was standing unsteadily on his hooves.

"Easily done," came her reply, but she wasn't really paying attention to me. Instead, her gaze was fixed on Jarvis as he paused beneath the door lintel, trying to catch his breath. The head wound may have healed, but the faun still looked drawn. His skin was pasty and dry, his eyes encircled by dark purple bruising. He gave a ragged cough that sent him reeling, but Hyacinth had antic.i.p.ated what was coming next and reached out, catching him just as his legs gave way beneath him.

"Jarvis," I cried, but the faun only shook his head for me to be quiet. Hyacinth stared at the creature in her arms, taking in his haggard appearance and lack of strength. Then she fixed her steely gaze on me, and under the intensity of her glare I felt like an impaled bug trying to wriggle its way off a specimen board.

"What have you done, Callie?" she asked. Her words came evenly, but I didn't believe for a second there wasn't malice underneath them. I took a cue from the rigid set of her shoulders and the faint lines ringing her mouth and decided not to be a smart aleck.

"Look, I don't know what I'm supposed to have done," I said, my thoughts all jumbling together as I spoke, "but I swear to G.o.d I didn't do it."

Hyacinth pursed her lips, but didn't respond.

"I'm serious, I didn't do whatever it is you think I did," I said again. "I mean it."

Hyacinth shook her head.

"I believe you, Callie, because I don't think you would have knowingly wrought this thing upon a friend."

"Excuse me?" I said, my voice going up an octave. I didn't like being accused of something . . . especially something I had no knowledge of having done. I wanted an answer from her, but Hyacinth didn't seem to think now was an appropriate time for further discussion. Instead, she turned her back on me, slinging Jarvis's barely conscious body over her shoulder as if he were as light as a sack of foam packing peanuts.

"This way," she intoned, crossing the threshold and taking the fire stairs two at a time, leaving me with nothing to do but follow her.

"c.r.a.p," I said under my breath as I stepped into the stairwell, letting the fire door close behind me with an ominous click click. I paused, the sense that I was closing the door on my past, now and forever, overwhelming all other thought. I let this feeling linger inside my brain, hoping time would give it clarification, then I picked up my pace, grasping the handrail with a shaking hand as I blindly followed Hyacinth's retreating back.

The stairs seemed to go on forever. This was only compounded by the fact I was in mediocre physical shape, and with each step, my lungs flailed in my chest, waving the white flag of surrender. But I couldn't stop. Hyacinth was still barreling up the stairs ahead of me, Jarvis in her arms, and I was determined not to let them out of my sight. Occasionally, I would have to stop and lean against the railing, gasping for breath, but then I would marshal my waning strength and begin the climb again. Each time, Hyacinth got a bit farther ahead, but as long as she stayed within eyeshot, I wasn't too worried.

Finally, above me, I heard a door opening, and a shaft of light cut across the head of the stairwell. I picked up speed, pushing my body to power its way up the remaining flight. When I reached the topmost landing, I found the door to the roof propped open, encouraging me forward. A blast of chilly air pounded through the doorway and I took a small hop backward to avoid the brunt of it, almost stepping off the landing's edge.

"Are you coming?" Hyacinth bellowed as she stuck her head back through the doorway to hurry me along. I could tell by the look of annoyance she wore she was fast running out of patience.

I never said I was a d.a.m.n Olympian, lady, I thought to myself, but I kept my att.i.tude in check, replying with as much saccharin as I could muster: I thought to myself, but I kept my att.i.tude in check, replying with as much saccharin as I could muster: "On my way!"

I huffed my way across the landing and out onto the rooftop. Because of the height, the wind was vicious, tearing at my clothes and hair and pushing me bodily toward the lip of the rooftop.

"This way," Hyacinth called, her voice carrying on the wind. I followed the sound of her words to the far side of the rooftop, where she stood hanging from the c.o.c.kpit of a gun-metal gray helicopter, beckoning me forward with her free hand. The other was clutching a flight headset already plugged into the control panel.

I jogged over to the helicopter and crawled into the pa.s.senger seating, slamming the door behind me. I saw Hyacinth had already buckled Jarvis into the backseat and I sighed with relief. Hyacinth handed me the other headset and I fitted it over my head, filling my ears with the hiss of static.

"Where are we going?" I asked as Hyacinth closed her door and began flipping switches at-what seemed to me to be-random. Suddenly, the blades above us roared to life and the helicopter thrummed with burgeoning energy.

"Somewhere safe," she replied as she gripped the cyclic stick, which resembled a giant joystick and controlled the steering. The helicopter gave a sharp jerk, then lifted off the ground, and I couldn't help but grin with surprise as I realized we were airborne.

While the helicopter gained speed and alt.i.tude, I marveled at the bird's-eye view of Manhattan spread out before me. I didn't think I'd ever seen anything so beautiful.

"This is amazing-" I started to say, but then some strange instinct for the macabre made me turn around to look at Jarvis. What I saw in the backseat of the helicopter made the rest of that sentence disappear completely from my mind. I gagged as the bile rose in my throat and I had to look away before I got sick right there in the c.o.c.kpit.

I felt my hands instinctively cover my face as I shut my eyes and tried to blot out the image I'd just seen-although I was pretty sure it was gonna be ingrained in my memory for the rest of my immortality anyway.

"What's wrong?" I heard Hyacinth's words echo in the headset I was wearing, but the disembodied quality freaked me out and I ripped them from my ears. I didn't care that the roar of the helicopter blades was deafening. I wanted the sound to overwhelm my brain and block out the image etched in my mind.

"His face," I moaned, letting the headset fall to the floor of the c.o.c.kpit. "It's sloughed right off the bone."

seven.

I twisted around in my chair, my eyes settling on Jarvis's p.r.o.ne body, where it sat, strapped to the bench like a child in a car seat. The pale bone of his exposed skull reflected back the golden sunlight streaming in through the transparent sh.e.l.l of the helicopter like fire. I stared at his tattered body and, for my trouble, was gifted with the spectacle of cloth-covered skin and muscle sloughing off his right arm bone before slipping past the seat and pooling on the floor with the rest of his already-melted flesh. I was glad the whir of the blades made it impossible to hear anything above their din, so I wasn't subjected to the sound of Jarvis disintegrating before my eyes.

"Jarvis," I whispered, my ability to speak compromised by the sight of him. I whispered, my ability to speak compromised by the sight of him.

From the collarbone up, he was skeleton, the flesh having melted away like b.u.t.ter in a pan, leaving only pristine bleached-white bone in its stead. For some strange reason, Jarvis's eyeb.a.l.l.s had remained fixed inside their sockets, but since his eyelids and eyelashes had fallen away with the rest of the delicate skin of his face, it was hard to gauge what my friend might be thinking, trapped inside his putrefying body. I knew he was still sentient by the wild twitching of his eyeb.a.l.l.s inside the smooth orbital bones of his skull, but I really needed the other aspects of the face-facial muscles, eyebrows, etc.-to give me the emotional context.

It's amazing what your mind decides to settle on during times of high stress, I thought to myself as I tried to remain clinical about my friend's situation-as if that were really possible. I thought to myself as I tried to remain clinical about my friend's situation-as if that were really possible.

Another piece of Jarvis's flesh detached, denuding his right shoulder of skin and muscle. Like a fool, I tried to catch the blubbery stuff in my hands before it could splat on the floor, but it was no use. The subcutaneous fat was as slick as baby oil, and the gelatinous skin and muscle slithered right through my fingers, splattering against the leather of the adjacent seat like tallow.

Jarvis's metamorphosis was moving at an accelerated rate and I deduced that his skeleton would be stripped clean of flesh within the hour. A school of piranhas couldn't have done a more thorough job if they'd tried. Jarvis's skin loss problem was gonna need a very quick fix-the word "superglue" kept flashing in my mind-or I was going to be left dealing with a silent skeleton instead of a helpful faun.

What do I do? I thought, frantically racking my brain for some kind of an answer, but I didn't have any experience with a situation like this. I thought, frantically racking my brain for some kind of an answer, but I didn't have any experience with a situation like this.

In the pilot's seat beside me, Hyacinth spoke abruptly into her headset, gesturing at me wildly, but in my freaked-out state I couldn't understand what she wanted.

"What are you saying?!" I yelled over the cacophony of the helicopter blades, but Hyacinth only shook her head and gestured again, pointing down to the floor of the c.o.c.kpit where my headset lay, twisted in its own cord. I swallowed hard then reached down and scooped up the offending thing, sliding it back over my head.

". . . can't do anything for him right now," Hyacinth said, the last half of her sentence crackling into my ears as I eased the headset in place. "Please stop freaking out and collect yourself. You're behaving like a child."

I started to protest, but I knew she was right. I was acting like a little s.h.i.t. I needed to calm down and put everything into perspective. Jarvis's face may have fallen off, but that didn't give me permission to lose my s.h.i.t.

"What's happening to him?" I asked, aiming my words into the headset's protruding mouthpiece, having a bit more control over my hysteria now. There was a moment of radio silence-and I a.s.sumed Hyacinth had decided not to answer me-but then she began to speak: "He was dead, Callie, and you roused him out of Death to do your bidding."

"He can't be dead," I said, my voice rising. "He's immortal. You can't kill an immortal with a blow to the head. Besides, he was healing, I saw it myself, and FYI, if I were going to 'rouse' someone out of Death, I think I would know about it!"

"Yes, I would hope that that would be the case, but you're very unskilled in the art of Death, so who knows what you're capable of," Hyacinth said, her disembodied words like thoughts being implanted into my brain. "And what you saw earlier was the beginning of the turning turning process. You should at least know from your own experiences that immortals don't heal that quickly." process. You should at least know from your own experiences that immortals don't heal that quickly."

As much as I hated to admit it, I deserved the disparaging tone Hyacinth was using on me. I was was a kindergartner when it came to the supernatural world. I knew next to nothing about the subject. I know being the Daughter of Death should've made me an expert on that kind of stuff, but I don't think you can ever learn about something you're not interested in. Like in school, you see kids who hate being there, and no matter what you do, you just can't inspire them to retain the information they're supposed to be learning. As far as I could tell, you had to a kindergartner when it came to the supernatural world. I knew next to nothing about the subject. I know being the Daughter of Death should've made me an expert on that kind of stuff, but I don't think you can ever learn about something you're not interested in. Like in school, you see kids who hate being there, and no matter what you do, you just can't inspire them to retain the information they're supposed to be learning. As far as I could tell, you had to want want knowledge; you had to be really interested in a subject in order to absorb it. knowledge; you had to be really interested in a subject in order to absorb it.

And the last thing I had ever been interested in as a kid-or as an adult-was Death and the supernatural world it encompa.s.sed. But because I had had experienced the healing process of an immortal firsthand (I'd banged myself up pretty good here and there growing up), I did recognize it didn't happen as rapidly as what I'd observed in Jarvis. If, like Hyacinth said, this experienced the healing process of an immortal firsthand (I'd banged myself up pretty good here and there growing up), I did recognize it didn't happen as rapidly as what I'd observed in Jarvis. If, like Hyacinth said, this turning turning thing was really happening to Jarvis, then it explained a lot. thing was really happening to Jarvis, then it explained a lot.

"Okay, say it's true," I said, "and Jarvis is turning. What does that actually mean?"

Hyacinth sighed, which translated into a loud hiss hiss in my headset. in my headset.

"I won't know for certain this is what is truly transpiring until we arrive at Sea Verge-"

"We're going home?" I interrupted, excitement and relief flooding my body. "Thank G.o.d!"

"Let me finish," Hyacinth said in a sharp tone, deflating the good vibes I'd just conjured up. "As I said, I won't know the veracity of this hypothesis until I can verify that your father is no longer among us."

"What!" I cried, the meaning of her words like a sharpened stake plunging into my soul. I may've been oblivious at times, but I wasn't an idiot. I understood what she was driving at. I cried, the meaning of her words like a sharpened stake plunging into my soul. I may've been oblivious at times, but I wasn't an idiot. I understood what she was driving at.

"Callie, you can't turn turn the dead unless you the dead unless you are are Death." Death."

She didn't even bother to look at me as she let this callous statement hang in the air. Not even an iota of compa.s.sion from the woman. She continued to pilot the stupid helicopter like nothing had happened, the rigid set of her shoulders and unbroken line of her mouth giving only the barest hint that there was emotion bubbling somewhere inside her-a fact that was hardly encouraging.

"I think you're full of s.h.i.t," I said after a protracted silence. "I think it's all bulls.h.i.t, so there. My dad is immortal. No one can kill him . . ."

The syllables streamed from my lips without thought. I sensed this nauseous rush of invective was an intuitive reaction to information I wasn't ready to process yet, but I had no control over it. It was like if I could just keep talking, just keep my lips in perpetual motion, I could purge the growing terror Hyacinth had stoked inside my gut. For her part, my former boss remained silent-although I did notice that her grip on the steering shaft was so intense the skin of her hands was bloodless.

All around us, the sky began to darken, going from pale blue to foreboding gray in an instant. The change in air pressure screamed that the threat of rain was fast approaching, and as if to prove its point, the helicopter was snared in a ma.s.sive downdraft. Caught by the unexpected violence of the encroaching storm, we lurched to the left, my head slamming into the side of the door. Mind-numbing pain engulfed every synapse of my body as the metal hinge on the side of the door sliced into the thin skin of my scalp. I felt something warm and viscous on my face, shrouding my vision in a blurry haze. I tried to wipe the stuff away with my hands and clear my vision, but I couldn't seem to get my fingers to do what I wanted them to do. It took me a few moments to comprehend that it was blood pouring from the gash in my scalp and not some unknown liquid cascading into my face. I wanted to scream, to rage against the stupidity of what was happening to me, but my throat was like a vise, allowing no sound to escape. All I could manage was a strangled gurgle-which did nothing to relieve the pressure enveloping my brain and sending me into a miasmic veil of nausea.

I closed my eyes, fighting back the urge to puke. I didn't think my getting sick would help the situation very much. Opening my eyes again was like trying to pry open two rusted window frames. All I wanted to do was to sink into a black abyss and then wake up back in my bed in Battery Park City, but the rocking of the helicopter wasn't helping my wish one bit. It only seemed to stoke my nausea, dragging me back into a more alert state.

"c.r.a.p," I moaned, reaching up with my right hand to feel around in my scalp for the bloodied gash. I moaned, reaching up with my right hand to feel around in my scalp for the bloodied gash.

I winced as my fingers palpated the tender skin around the cut, biting my lip against the pain. When my speculative probing got too intense, I yanked my hand away and wiped my blood-coated fingers on the underside of my seat. The wound didn't seem very deep, and if I remembered correctly, the scalp tended to be a heavy bleeder even when the wound wasn't really that bad.

More like a dog's bark being worse than its bite, I thought miserably. I thought miserably.

While I was musing about scalp wounds and barking dogs, Hyacinth was working hard to hold the steering apparatus steady, keeping the helicopter on an eastwardly course. As my eyes refocused on my surroundings, I realized the rocking sensation I was feeling stemmed from the terrible lightning storm our tiny helicopter was entering. I watched, surprised at how quickly the storm was enveloping us.

Rolling black rain clouds had eaten up all of the sky, making it hard to see farther than a few feet into the distance. A flash of white-hot lightning split the horizon, producing enough light, at least for a few seconds, to verify that the darkness around us was absolute.

"What's going on?" I asked uncertainly. The intensity of the storm was making my arm hair stand on end.

"What did you say?" Hyacinth asked, not daring to breach her concentration by peeling her eyes from the windscreen. It was taking everything she had just to pilot the helicopter away from the encroaching rainstorm.

"What's. Going. On?" I said again, slowing down my speech and enunciating as best I could. I said again, slowing down my speech and enunciating as best I could.

"I don't know where this storm came from, but it's not a good thing," Hyacinth replied, flicking a few switches on the control panel as she spoke. "Makes it really hard to keep the helicopter steady."

There was another b.u.mp and the helicopter went into free-fall. My stomach migrated into my throat and I screamed-just as the helicopter righted itself again.

"Where are we going?" I asked after my stomach had slid back down my throat.

"It's not much further now," Hyacinth said as she banked a sharp left, sending us careening into pitch-black airs.p.a.ce.

I knew I wasn't going to get a straight answer out of Hyacinth about where we were going, so I turned my attention back to Jarvis. The poor little guy looked the worse for wear, his jawbone hanging from the rest of his skull by a thin filament of flesh. I wanted to do something to help him, but I didn't think trying to get into the backseat while we were in the middle of an aggressive rainstorm was the smartest course of action. It wasn't like I was gonna be able to hold his hand or anything.

"I'm sorry, Jarvis," I said, even though I knew he couldn't hear me over the drone of the helicopter and the rain splattering against the windscreen.

I sat back in my seat, feeling lost and terribly alone. Usually in these situations I had Jarvis's steel trap of a mind to lean on, but now, left to my own devices, I didn't have a clue as to what was happening around me-or why it was happening. Was what Hyacinth said true? Was there something wrong with my dad, and had the power of Death somehow transferred to me? I thought back to when I'd first entered the bathroom and found Jarvis. I remembered barging into the room, seething with anger, only to find my friend lying on the ground in a half-inch of water. I knew he was immortal, so I hadn't been concerned about checking to see if he was breathing or if he had a pulse. No, I'd just squatted down beside him and made sure he was all right . . . but had he really really been all right? I racked my brains, forcing myself to remember any bits of minutiae I might've missed. been all right? I racked my brains, forcing myself to remember any bits of minutiae I might've missed.

And then it hit me. Something I'd totally forgotten in the heat of the moment: There'd been a piece of blue-gray metal protruding from Jarvis's head when I'd first gotten there. I hadn't paid it any attention then, having no idea the stuff might be important, and had just brushed it away with my hand so I could get a better look at the gash on my friend's head-but I did remember that it was at this very moment that Jarvis had returned to consciousness.

Only, he hadn't hadn't returned to consciousness, I realized with horror. No, I had roused Jarvis from a sleep much deeper than anything this reality had to offer: I had woken my friend out of Death. returned to consciousness, I realized with horror. No, I had roused Jarvis from a sleep much deeper than anything this reality had to offer: I had woken my friend out of Death.

Whatever that blue-gray metal was, it was Jarvis's weakness-like Superman, all immortals had one that could kill them. That was the only thing that made any sense. The Ender of Death hadn't come to my office just to hara.s.s me-he'd come to a.s.sa.s.sinate Jarvis, and like a fool, I'd let it happen. But if that were the case, then if, like Hyacinth surmised, I was now Death, why hadn't the Ender of Death killed me, too?

None of it made any sense.