And not only her. Others began to move as well. Timur rose and stretched out his long arms. Jyrgal, waking suddenly, turned and whispered to his wife. She opened her eyes and answered him. One by one, all the jokers stirred. They sat up and began talking. They hugged each other. They smiled. They cried joyful tears.

How? Marcus wondered.

As if she heard him, Olena pulled back. She turned and watched the awakening with him, and she answered his unspoken question. “Nurassyl did this.”

Nurassyl. Of course. The boy was right there at the center of the group. Villagers crowded around him, touching him, thanking him. Some even bowed. The boy smiled and answered them softly, but his large, round eyes were fixed on Marcus. There was so much compassion on his face, so much beauty in his joker-blessed features. The boy lifted his arms and held his tentacled hands outstretched toward Marcus.

“Go,” Olena said. “Be healed. Be healed, Marcus.”

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

THE ANGEL WOKE IN a hospital bed, with a breathing tube down her throat, and an IV in her arm. A heart monitor beeped beside her head.

When she ripped loose the tubes and wires, the monitor began to scream. She remembered the battle she had with … the snake … like something out of a particularly nasty dream, but her body felt as if it had been real. Just breathing was agony.

And speaking of nasty dreams …

She glanced down to her stomach. The only marks on it were bruises and an incision, little more than a scratch from a sharp knife. She leaned over and vomited, but nothing would come out of her stomach, not even bile. She was racked by dry heaves, then heard her name being called.

“Angel!”

It was Billy.

Ray was as battered and bruised as he always was after a fight. He dragged a leg behind him as he entered her room. But the pain on his face was overshadowed by a solemn joy as he caught her up and hugged her tightly. It hurt like hell, but it was a good hurt.

“I wasn’t sure about this one, babe,” he said into her hair. “The only thing that kept me going was the thought … the desire to see your face.” He frowned, held her at arm’s length when she didn’t respond.

“Oh, Billy.” She discovered that she couldn’t meet his eye.

He pulled her close again. “Hey, Angel, what’s the matter?”

She was unspeakably weary. “I betrayed you, Billy,” she said. “I betrayed my world. I betrayed my God. I did terrible things and had terrible desires. I lusted. I blasphemed. I put myself above all others—”

“It wasn’t you,” he said softly, stroking her cheek with his fingertips. “We’re good now. Everything’s okay.”

“Is it, Billy?” She finally relaxed, leaning against his dirty and torn fighting suit.

“In time, babe.”