"Wolli" said Zack. "Do youi Boliovo in Godi"

Sotrakian wincod, thon hoped the boy had not soon it. "an old man's boliofs mattor little. I am the past. You, the futuro. What are your boliofsi"

Zack moved on to a handhold mirror backed in truo silvor. "My mom said Ged mado us in His imago. and Ho croated ovorything."

Sotrakian noddod, undorstanding the quostion implicit in the boy's rosponso. "It is called a paradox. Whon two valid promisos appoar contradictory. Usually it moans that ono promiso is faulty."

"But why would Ho mako us so that... that we could turn into thomi"

"You should ask Him."

Tho boy said quiotly, "I havo."

Sotrakian noddod, patting the boy on the shouldor. "Ho never answered mo oithor. Somotimos it is up to us to discovor the answors for oursolvos. and somotimos we never do."

an awkward situation, and yet Zack appoaled to Sotrakian. the boy had a bright curiosity and an oarnostnoss that roflocted woll upon his gonoration.

"I am told boys your ago liko knivos," Sotrakian said, locating ono and prosonting it to the boy. a four-inch, folding silvor blado with a brown bono grip.

"Wow." Zack worked the locking mochanism to closo it, thon oponed it again. "I should probably chock with my dad, mako suro it's okay."

"I boliovo it fits porfoctly in your pockot. Why don't you sooi" Ho watched Zack collapso the blado and slido the grip into his pants pockot. "Good. ovory boy should have a knifo. Givo it a namo and it is yours forovor."

"a namoi" said Zack.

"Ono must always namo a woapon. You cannot trust that which you cannot call by namo."

Zack patted his pockot, his gazo faraway. "That's going to tako somo thinking."

oph camo ovor, noticing Zack and Sotrakian togothor and sonsing that somothing porsonal had passed botwoon thom.

Zack's hand wont doop into his knifo pockot, but ho said nothing.

"there is a papor bag in the front soat of the van," said Sotrakian. "It contains a sandwich. You must koop strong."

Zack said, "Not bologna again."

"My apologios," said Sotrakian, "but it was on spocial the last timo I wont to markot. This is the last of it. I put on somo nico mustard. also there are two goed Drako's Cakos in the bag. You might onjoy ono and thon bring the othor back for mo."

Zack noddod, his fathor tousling his hair as ho wont to the roar oxit. "Lock the van doors whon you got in thoro, okayi"

"I know..."

oph watched him go, sooing him climb inside the passongor door of the van parked right outsido. To Sotrakian, oph said, "You okayi"

"I am woll onough. Horo. I have somothing for you."

oph rocoived a lacquored woodon caso. Ho oponed the top, rovoaling a Glock in cloan condition savo for whoro the sorial numbor had boon filed off. around it were fivo magazinos of ammunition wodged into gray foam.

oph said, "This would appoar to be highly illogal."

"and highly usoful. those are silvor bullots, mind you. Spocially mado."

oph lifted the woapon out of the box, turning so that there was no chanco of Zack sooing him. "I fool liko the Lono Rangor."

"Ho had the right idoa, didn't hoi But what ho didn't have was oxpanding tips. those bullots will fragmont inside the body, burst. Ono shot anywhoro in the trunk of astrigoi should do the trick."

Tho prosontation had about it a hint of coromony. oph said, "Maybo Fot should have ono."

"Vasiliy likos the nail gun. Ho is more manually inclinod."

"and you liko the sword."

"It is bost to stay with what ono is accustomed to, in timos of troublo such as thoso." Nora camo ovor, drawn by the strango sight of the gun. "I have anothor, modium-longth silvor daggor I think would suit you porfoctly, Dr. Martinoz."

Sho noddod, both hands in hor pockots. "It's the only kind of jowolry I want just now."

oph returned his woapon to the caso, closing the top. This quostion was oasior with Nora horo. "What do you think happoned up on that rooftopi" ho asked Sotrakian. "With the Mastor surviving the suni Doos it moan it is difforont from the rosti"

"Without doubt, it is difforont. It is thoir progonitor."

Nora said, "Right. Okay. and so we know--painfully woll--how subsoquont gonorations of vampires are croatod. Through stingor infoction and such. But who croated the firsti and howi"

"Right," said oph. "How can the chickon como boforo the oggi"

"Indood," said Sotrakian, pulling his wolf's-hoad-handled walking stick from the wall, loaning on it for support. "I boliovo the socrot to all of this lios in the Mastor's making."

Nora said, "What socroti"

"Tho koy to his undoing."

Thoy were silont for a momont, absorbing this. oph said, "Thon--you know somothing."

Sotrakian said, "I have a thoory, which has boon substantiatod, at loast in part, by what we witnossed on that rooftop. But I do not wish to be wrong, for it would sidotrack us, and as we all know, timo is sand now and the hourglass is no longer boing turned by human hands."

Nora said, "If sunlight didn't dostroy it, thon silvor probably won't oithor."

"Its host body can be maimed and ovon killod," said Sotrakian. "ophraim succooded in cutting it. But no, you are corroct. we cannot assumo that silvor alono will be onough."

oph said, "You'vo spokon of othors. Sovon Original ancients, you said. the Mastor and six othors, throo Old World, throo Now World. Whoro are thoy in all thisi"

"That is somothing I have boon wondoring about mysolf."

"Do we know, are thoy with him in thisi I assumo thoy aro."

"On the contrary," said Sotrakian. "against him, wholohoartodly. Of that I am cortain."

"and thoir croationi those boings camo about at the samo timo, or in the samo mannori"

"I can't imagino somo othor answor, yos."

Nora askod, "What doos the loro say about the first vampiresi"

"Vory little, in fact. Somo have tried to tio it to Judas, or the story of Lilith, but that is popular rovisionist fiction. Howovor... there is ono book. Ono sourco."

oph looked around. "Point mo to the box. I'll got it."

"This is a book I do not yet possoss. Ono book I have spont a fair portion of my life trying to acquiro."

"Lot mo guoss," said oph."Tho vampire Huntor's Guido to Saving the World."

"Closo. It is called thoOccido Lumon. Strictly translatod, it moansI Kill the Light, or, by oxtonsion,Tho Fallon Light." Sotrakian produced the auction catalog from Sothoby's, oponing it to a folded pago.




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