Then it happened, as he had somehow known it would from the moment he began this duty. Xandre came through the open window, thrown like a kitten in a sack, his arms bound in deep red tendrils that began to fade as soon as Chance perceived them. The boy cleared the narrow landing and began the long tumble down. Now his arms were free, and as his limp body spun, they flung out dark, liquid tendrils of their own that carried a rich, choking scent to rival the sea-salted air.

Chance grabbed Lukas and dived off the landing, knowing without seeing that the murderer and whatever it was that had aided him were coming out to see their work. His hand smothered Lukas’s face so that even the shock of hitting cold water did not elicit more than a short gasp. Then he remembered his limitations.

“Swim, boy,” he growled, releasing Lukas to the mildly surging water. “I cannot help you any further. You must choose for yourself. Swim or die.”

Softly crying, Lukas did as he was told. Chance flashed to dry land in a single step and stood watching, invisible, until the small shaking figure clambered up the big rocks lining the coast road and started stumbling homeward. He gave a thought to following Lukas, then wondered if it would be any good to see if Xandre had survived. Before he could decide between the two, another tearing sensation sent a crackle through him. He whirled around and stared into the murk, already furious at whomever this intruder might be.

“Chance? Is that you?”

He tilted his head and peered more closely, considering. “Do I know you?”

An ordinary figure, very human-looking but with an otherworldly glitter about the eyes, stepped forward out of the darkness and into the amber circle cast by a streetlamp. “You might. You will.”

Chance pondered that and risked stepping a little closer to examine the shadow carried by this undying one. It was unfamiliar in a way that was disconcerting, as if the undying one had actually transformed himself into some other being rather than merely crafting a facsimile. As to whether the substance below the shadow was familiar, Chance could no longer say. The entire event was beginning to ring so loudly of déjà vu that he couldn’t even trust himself to know which direction he was facing.

“I was watching earlier from the edges,” the stranger continued. “How did you come here? What duty did you have?”

“Amulet,” Chance spat. “And not even wielded by the right person. I’m not responsible. I gave him plenty of options, and he chose the worst ones.”

The stranger smiled a bitter smile and looked keenly at him. “Not a lie, but not the truth. He would not have gone for that other amulet if you hadn’t put the possibility into his head.”