This was the Well of Stars. It was the portal to the place where Alana’s people lived, a doorway to another universe, where The End had already won. That whole side was filled with pain and loss and hunger.

There was a shimmer in the air as Colchester dropped his wards. He had to, if he wanted to take the energy from the ritual sacrifices. It took a few minutes as he undid the spells of decades. But when he was finished, he was unguarded and vulnerable, probably for the first time in a hundred years.

This was their only chance. This is what Merlin had been training him for.

So that meant these were the last few minutes of his life.

Everything looked too clear and too bright and he felt a pain in his chest. It felt like he was about to jump off a cliff.

Alana gave him an impatient look. But who wouldn’t hesitate before leaping to his certain doom?

“Alana,” he said. “There’s a prophecy — I mean, tonight, I — ” He swallowed, started again. “I can end this. All of it, right here, but — ”

There was something in his throat; it felt as if he was choking. He blurted it out: “I’m supposed to die tonight.”

To his surprise, she laughed. Quietly, but she laughed. “Join the club,” she said. “None of us are going to survive this.”

He looked at her, utterly baffled. She seemed almost…happy.

She must have seen it on his face. She shrugged.

“Come on,” she said. “Did you have any other plans for the rest of your life?”

She grinned and unsheathed her sword. Eric felt her courage flowing into him, like a transfusion.

She winked at him, and sprinted across the open ground toward Colchester. Eric gestured, and felt gravity release him as he rose into the air.

He still thought he was going to die. But at least he might impress Alana before he did.

Who knows, he thought. Maybe they would even win.

Carrie and Danny pulled up outside the gym in his BMW. They were armed and ready. They had their weapons. Carrie wore her bulletproof vest. Danny had on a Kevlar-weave jacket of his own design, filled with tools and gadgets.

They tested their communicators. They were ready for anything.

Then Carrie got out of the passenger side of the car and nearly ran right into the bomb.

“Danny,” she said quietly, as if any loud noise would set it off. “I think I found it.”

They were next to Wade Wellman’s monster pickup truck, jacked-up and gleaming as it sat in the handicapped spot, nestled against the wall of the gym. Carrie would know his ride anywhere.

In the bed of the truck, barely covered by a tarp, stood a half-dozen metal barrels, bound together by twisting strands of wire.