An exiled god prince acts out his
violent vengeance!

“Will it hurt?” Kane asked then, and his question was genuine,
no longer a part of his innocent act

Dylan nodded. “The future has to be born, Kane,” he said, “and birth is traumatic. But it will be brief, and the

new world awaits you once it’s done. You need never look back, never regret. God will be with you.”

Kane gritted his teeth as he watched Dylan bring the stone closer. Then he felt it brush against his skin, its

surface cool, and for a moment the ex-Mag tensed.

“Relax yourself into it,” Dylan advised. “Don’t fight it.”

Dylan pulled his hand back slowly, leaving the stone balanced on Kane’s outstretched arm. The stone was

resting against Kane’s wrist now, in the groove that was made there at the heel of his hand. Kane watched

as the stone rested there, doing nothing out of the ordinary. And then he felt it move, like an insect’s tiny

feet tickling against his wrist, and he almost laughed. The movement was so slight that, in the gloom, he could

not really see it. All the same, he felt it, felt as it rolled and turned, inching around in a slow turn at the base of his palm.

Suddenly, Kane felt a strange kind of pain, his skin splitting at his wrist with a burning sensation. It reminded Kane of the way that chapped lips feel in cold weather, a hotness around the wound. He watched as the stone rested at his wrist, watched as it seemed to become slightly smaller. It was sinking, Kane realized—sinking into his flesh, burrowing there like an insect.

Available as of August 2011 wherever books are sold!