"I am here," Mencheres said into the phone, interrupting Kira's frantic shouting.

"Thank God!" she gasped. "I could hear screams, but I couldn't tell if they were yours or his . . ."

"They were his," he replied, regretting the pain that would have caused her. "All is well.

Radjedef cannot harm us any longer."

"I'm getting on a plane right now," she said, her voice still edged with anxiety even though relief shone through as well. "The one you flew in on is refueled and waiting. I'll be there in the next few hours. I love you."

Mencheres stared into Radjedef's eyes as he replied. "And I love you, my adored. I'll be waiting for you."

A shuffling sound later, and the female Law Guardian's voice flowed over the line. "Is he alive?" Veritas asked.

"No," Mencheres replied, the steel beam preventing Radje from making any sound Veritas could hear above the wind. "He tried to escape. I had to kill him."

"It matters not. This phone was on speaker before, so all of the Guardians heard Radje's complicity in kidnapping Kira and using her as blackmail against you. They also heard further testimony from the guards as to Radje's complicity in Josephus's death and in airing video footage that exposed our race to humans. You have been cleared of all charges, Mencheres."

"Thank you," he replied shortly, hammering another beam into Radje's throat when it had healed enough for him to begin to curse audibly. "I must go now, before humans stumble across this scene."

Veritas would know the real reason for his haste. The ferryman's boat never returned empty, and Mencheres had no intention of being the one to fill it.

He hung up on Veritas, then yanked the beam out of Radje's throat but kept the others where they were. After a few seconds, the gaping hole in the Law Guardian's neck healed until only blood remained to show for it.

Radje's gaze was green with seething hatred. "Was it all a trick? Did you never lose your visions? Never intend to seek your death? Did you plan all of this? " Mencheres couldn't help his ironic laugh. "None of it was a trick, except tonight. You almost won, uncle, but somehow fate gave me back everything I'd lost - and even more."

"What now?" Radje hissed. "You intend to take my head?"

Mencheres cast his power from the torn-up lattice around them down to the roof of the Symphony Tower, where he'd stood earlier, waiting for the time to tick down to midnight.

He curled it around the silver knife he'd left there, the same one from the ritual he'd performed earlier, and floated it up toward him.

He caught that knife with one hand, noting the fear in Radje's gaze when he saw it.

"I take nothing from you," Mencheres said, slicing that knife across Radje's chest and coating it on both sides with the Law Guardian's blood. At once, the brightly lit dome around them disappeared into the endless black of Duat, a lone boat floating toward them on an obsidian river. "He does," Mencheres finished, nodding at the ferryman.

Radjedef screamed as the horned figure of Aken appeared. Mencheres let go of Radje to back away, pulling out the steel beams from the Law Guardian and piling them in a heap below. Aken grabbed Radjedef with one long hand when he attempted to flee, that wide mouth open in a terrifying, toothless grin.

No one can outrun the ruler of the underworld, Mencheres thought grimly. Not even him. One day, he would be the one ferried to stand before Anubis, his sins measured on the scales against the Ma'at to see if the Devourer awaited him, or the peace of his eternal rest in Aaru.

But not today.

Radjedef was still screaming when Aken placed him in the boat. The horned head of the ferryman nodded at Mencheres.

"An acceptable surrogate, Menkaure. Tell me, did you find your darkness?" A chil ran through Mencheres. "My darkness?"

"Kira," the ferryman said, pronouncing her name as the ancient Celts would.

Mencheres began to laugh. He'd had the symbolism all wrong. His visions showed darkness surging ever closer, destined to consume him. He'd thought it was death because his despair could anticipate nothing else, but it wasn't death. It was her.

Kira. Celtic for "dark."

"Yes, I found her," he said to Aken. His memory of that endless stretch of darkness in his vision, filling every aspect of his future, was suddenly the most beautiful image Mencheres had ever beheld.

He turned away from the ferryman. The black void disappeared, replaced with the glow from the damaged pyramid around him and the lights of the cityscape beyond.

Radjedef's slowly shriveling body lay now on the bottom of the structure, lifeless, his soul in the boat of the ferryman on their journey back to Duat.

Mencheres had his own journey as well, but his was with Kira, into their future.