Rezok waved his hand again, and an image formed: Danny, standing in the dojo ruins. Laughing. Alive.

  “He should not exist,” Rezok said. “Not by Heaven’s rules. Not by Hell’s. Not even by mine.”

  Damsul frowned slightly. “Yet you didn’t kill him.”

  Rezok’s eyes glinted. “I tried.”

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  Silence stretched.

  “Time bent,” Rezok continued. “Not reversed. Not frozen. Denied. He did not fight death. He postponed it.”

  Damsul’s breath caught. “That… that shouldn’t be possible.”

  Rezok leaned closer. “Exactly.”

  He turned away, clasping his hands behind his back. “Heaven thinks him a mistake. Sir Dracks thinks him a miracle. The boy thinks himself unlucky.”

  Rezok stopped walking.

  “I think he is a key.”