If we wanted to survive, if we wanted to inherit the millennia as Thorne and Cyril, and Teskhamen and Chrysanthe had inherited them, as Avicus and Zenobia had inherited them, as Marius and Pandora and Flavius had inherited them, and as Rhoshamandes and Sevraine had inherited them—and as Seth and Gregory, now the very oldest among us, had inherited them—then we had to meet the future with respect as well as courage and count fear and selfishness to be small things.

“This is our universe,” I said. “We too are made of stardust as are all things on this planet; we too belong.”

Seems I went on for a while on that theme, and then when I realized I had in fact finished, I brought it to a close.

I didn’t really provide any new or better answers than I’d grudgingly given last night, and when people praised me for my bravery in giving myself up to what was to happen, I waved that away and said, “It was not my courage. It was just what happened.”

I left, taking Thorne and Cyril with me, and sought out Rhoshamandes, who was, as always, in his own castle in his own lofty and cold and relentlessly gray world.

He gave a violent start when I walked into his spacious drawing room or great hall, or whatever he might have called it. And he rose at once, dropping the book he’d been reading on the floor.

“No enmity between us,” I said. I extended my hand. Thorne and Cyril were on either side of me and I could feel their hostility towards him. I knew how they longed for him to provoke a battle but even the three of us were no match for what one as old as he might do.

He regarded me coldly for a long time as if he couldn’t believe what I was saying.

“All things,” I said, “must be made new. There can’t be lingering grudges.”

He didn’t answer. I went on. “You said it would make up for what I’d done to you. Well, stick to your word.”

At that he softened somewhat, and then he shrugged. Shrugged just the way I did so often. And he extended his hand.

“I know you were hoping I wouldn’t survive,” I said. “But let’s just keep the peace now. You are welcome in my house anytime as long as you keep the peace.”

I didn’t wait for any cold, incomplete, inadequate, or disappointing rejoinders. I wanted to go home. But he stopped me as I turned to go and he said,

“Peace between us! I’m grateful to you.” He seemed more than merely sincere. “I didn’t want you to die,” he said, “but I hope that Devil who was inside you perished. I hope he went up in smoke to hover in agony again over this world forever.”