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“Do you think he—the killer—is what was released from the Eye?” Torin asked, pointing at the white-faced body again.

“That’s exactly what I think. It would explain the way he always drew an eye in the blood of his victims at every scene,” Sylvan said. “And the strange language he used to write his cryptic messages was traced back to the parallel universe where the Cruel Father reigns.”

“So he’s…”

“We believe he’s some kind of scion—a representation of the Cruel Father himself—a being that contains all of the evil and malice of the dark deity which wishes to attack and harm the Kindred here in our own universe.” Sylvan shook his head. “If only we had known he had escaped the Eye sooner—but I thought it was safe where it was!”

“Well, he certainly did plenty of harm,” Torin said grimly. “But at least we finally got him.”

Sylvan nodded.

“I agree but I don’t think…” His voice trailed off and his eyes grew wide.

Torin, who had been watching his Commanding Officer, grew suddenly concerned.

“Commander?” he asked. “What is it?”

“Look!” Sylvan was pointing at the body-bag again—pointing to the killer’s face which was clearly visible through the plasti-shield body-bag.

Torin looked…and saw that the white face was bubbling and running. As they watched, the white skin turned to black liquid which began to run and ooze like hot tar. And as it ran, it began to reveal a new face beneath—a Reptilian face—one that Torin knew.

“Goddess above!” he exclaimed. “That’s Lunk’or!”

“Who?” Sylvan demanded.

“The Head Guard at the Shrine back on Portex Three!” Torin explained. “He was the one who stabbed the killer in the first place! He…oh Goddess…” He put a hand to his head.

“What in the Seven Hells is happening here?” Sylvan growled, as more and more of the guard’s body was revealed, his black and white scales and silver body armor streaked with black. It seemed to have been covered in a thin layer of the bubbling black goo which had run off the corpse and was now pooled in the bottom of the vacu-packed body bag.

“What’s happening is that I don’t think this is the killer—in fact, I know it’s not.” Torin bent down to decompress the bag and open it for a better look, but Sylvan put a hand on his arm to stop him.

“Don’t! Keep the seal intact.”

“What? Why? I want a closer look,” Torin protested.

“Look at the bottom of the bag.” Sylvan pointed and Torin saw that the black liquid that had run off the body was moving around, pressing outward against the plasti-shield bag.

“It’s trying to get out!” he said, staring in disbelief. “What in the Seven Hells?”

“The scion of the Cruel Father must have left some of his consciousness in it to hold it in place to keep disguising the body,” Sylvan speculated. “But maybe it’s too far from him now for him to exert his will over it?”

“Maybe. But that means that the rest of it—of him—is still back at the Shrine on Portex Three!” The horrible realization was just dawning on Torin. “And Sky’lar is back there too!”

“Agent Sky’lar and the High Priestess and her acolytes are in terrible danger.” Sylvan’s voice was grim. “The Cruel Father and his scion tricked us—they made us believe he was dead, but he’s actually still free to kill and destroy!”

“And Sky’lar is right there too! He must be able to take any form he wants, if his body is just composed of this black poison stuff!” Torin exclaimed. “He could look like anyone—he could be right beside her or the High Priestess and they’d never even know it!”

“You must go back at once,” Sylvan told him, but he was talking to empty air—Torin was already running up the ramp, back into his ship.

He had to get back to Sky’lar—to the woman he loved, even though she confused him—before it was too late!

FORTY-FIVE

SKY

“You’re sure it’s all right for me to sleep here?” Sky asked Neen’ya as they settled down in the acolyte’s quarters. They were just outside the sleeping chamber of the High Priestess, who could call on her specially picked acolytes for help if she needed something in the middle of the night.

“Sure, I’m sure. The High Priestess only has two acolytes right now, so we have a free bed.” Neen’ya gestured to the thin pallet on the stone bench as though she was offering a featherbed filled with wild Rilla down.

It didn’t look very comfortable, but Sky knew an honor when it was offered to her. And besides, she didn’t feel like being alone tonight.

“All right—thank you,” she said, nodding graciously.

“And don’t worry—Lunk’or is going to be right outside our door all night long—guarding us as well as the High Priestess, whose chambers can only be accessed through ours,” Neen’ya added.

“Well, that’s…very comforting. But is it necessary, since the killer has been caught and killed?” Sky asked. She couldn’t say why, but she didn’t like the idea of the big Serpentine male standing right outside her door all night. He made her nervous for some reason she couldn’t exactly articulate to herself.

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