Dorvin's head thrust around the corner. "Grizzly, anything yet?"

Jeid glared at the young man. "Do you see a demon?"

Dorvin squinted. "That beard of yours might qualify. I'm pretty sure it's possessed."

Jeid grunted. "Get back."

With a smirk, Dorvin pulled back behind the corner. Jeid stared up into the hole, seeing nothing but shadows. In the silence, he could hear the cries of sphinxes at the distant cave opening, the roar of dragonfire holding them back. But no scuttling of demons. No screams of dying.

"Grizzly!" Dorvin stuck his head around the corner again. "Any damn demon yet? I gotta piss, for stars' sake."

"Get back!"

Dorvin cursed. "Bloody bollocks." His head vanished behind the corner again.

Grumbling, Jeid raised his hand, stood on his toes, and smeared blood around the hole. The wound on his palm stung, but worse was his fear.

"Come drink," he whispered into the darkness. "Smell it. Come to us."

The moments passed by.

Jeid waited.

He paced.

Time stretched on.

Finally he sat down with a sigh, leaned against the wall, and stared up into the darkness.

It won't work, he thought. The creature is sleeping, or the creature knows it's a trap. It'll strike again, somewhere else, and more will die.

As he sat here, he wondered what he was fighting for. So many were gone already. The halls of Requiem had fallen to the enemy. Every day, another Vir Requis died. Perhaps worst of all were the three holes inside him, as dark and real as the hole above.

"Laira," he whispered. "Tanin. Maev."

His family—the only family he had left—was gone. He had already lost so many others: his daughter Requiem, his first wife, his parents. Was he alone now? Were the others dead like the bodies in the tunnels?

Why do I fight? he wondered. Why do I keep going when there is so much darkness in the world?

It would be easy to close his eyes, to wait for the demon to emerge and devour him. It would be easy to fly out into the sky and face the sphinxes, to die in battle. Why did he keep going, year by year, when the pain, the loss, the fear never ended?

"For Requiem," he whispered. "For hope. Maybe for nothing but the fight."

Fighting for a lost cause is better than giving up. We all must die someday. Some sooner, some later. If I must, I will die fighting. But I pray to the stars . . . I pray that I see you again, my wife, my children, my kingdom.

A scratch sounded above.

Jeid inhaled sharply and stared up at the hole.

A shadow stirred. A single claw, large as a dagger, emerged from the hole and scratched along the rim, collecting the droplets of blood.

Silently, Jeid rose to his feet and readied his harness. He clenched and unclenched his fist, opening the cut, and raised his hand above.