Aether. The Avenger pilot died from a lack of air. As if he flew into the space beyond the earth. The aether. Or the sky. Either one fits.

I don’t know if this means anything, but I send an e-mail to the working group.

Where does the feather fit in?

If the Warlock’s using the Babylonian elements, then it’s the wind. The Greek, air. Either way, I suspect we can expect at least three more dark miracles from the Warlock. Trying to predict what they’ll be is pointless. Never in a million years would we have expected him to make it look as if he ripped a hole in time and pulled an airplane through it.

His imagination has already exceeded our comprehension.

As I think this over, CNN is showing footage from an old movie called The Philadelphia Experiment, another of my father’s favorites, in which a vortex opens up around a World War II naval ship, pulling it out of time. I shake my head in disbelief.

The media are even supplying movie special effects to help build up his mystery. He’s such a goddamn made-for-television-news villain. Everyone, from theologians to fantasy authors, is chiming in with an opinion.

The talking heads are quick to condemn the acts, but all of them have a sense of awe in their condemnations.

Man-on-the-street interviews indicate regular people seem more focused on the illusion than the murdered people. But that’s the Warlock’s design. If we look at it from his point of view, he’s not a murderer. He’s a necromancer who gave Chloe life that she used to crawl out of the ground. He brought back a pilot who was supposed to have perished in an aircraft nobody ever thought would be seen again.

The murders are ambiguous. Like a writer who doesn’t want to make a character good or evil, the Warlock is trying to have it both ways.

I even see a hint of smiles on people’s faces as they offer their opinions on camera. They don’t see him as a murderer. Some of them are buying his story. This infuriates me.

I’m about to write another e-mail, this one to Knoll, and demand that we call attention to what the Warlock really is. But I stop myself. Knoll knows. We all know. We can only report the facts. We can’t control how people think. Right now the Warlock is winning.

I’ve been staring at the television for so long I don’t realize I’m being stared at by a man in a pilot’s uniform. He’s sitting across from me, several seats away.

I look over at him and it takes a second for me to recognize him. He’s got brown eyes and his face looks rounder somehow.

But it’s him.

“Why the long face, Jessica?”

Damian.

Goddamn it.

21

DAMIAN CAN READ my reaction as I start to stand up.

“Please don’t get the TSA over here. I haven’t done anything wrong. At least nothing that warrants involuntary sexual abuse.” He holds up his hands and smiles.