* * *
The Marquis of Sheol fell soon after Thane. Armaros had pushed forward and plunged his sword deep into the black heart of the monster when the third head of Naberius failed to strike at him. It was all the opening he needed. The body of the great black dog fell to the earth with a crash, and its dark soul—the demon that was Naberius, raced away from the expired body and the one who had defeated him. It would take him much time and no small effort to find his way back to the confines of Sheol. There his spirit would haunt the mountain with countless others.
Armaros ignored the body of the fallen arch demon, and moved swiftly to Thane's side. It wasn't good. He had failed. The boy was dead. A sadness struck the big angel—his chest seemed somehow empty. He feared it would be a permanent condition.
"Armaros," a voice called. The Watcher looked to the trailer, and saw Basia holding up Mundy. He had assumed they were dead too. "Bring the boy," she said. "We have to go. Mundy is hurt badly."
"I can heal the priest," Armaros answered. "But it's too late for Thane. It's over."
"The boy was supposed to die Armaros. That's the way it had to be. And it's far from over, in fact it's only just beginning. Trust me. Now please . . . save Mundy."
Armaros was numb. He didn't know what to make of what Basia just told him. He decided to rest his mind. He would let the girl lead for awhile. Nothing seemed to matter much anymore. He picked up Thane's body and walked to the trailer as he was told.