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until I had need and awakened you. As you have accurately deduced, you did not die at the traitors’ hands. Rather, a flicker of your life survived just long enough for me to pull you from death.
    The dragon heaved a sigh as it gazed upon Dantress again. “The Creator bestowed a great blessing on you, Specter. You should have died that day. Here in this chamber lie many great warriors, some stronger than you. But every one of them awaits a life of service. A glorious service to be sure, but they have lost the opportunity to live among those they love and participate in that life. You, on the other side, never passed through death.”
    The dragon nuzzled Dantress with its snout, and the young woman stirred.

3
     
    AN ANGEL CALLED MORONI
     
    S pecter,” the dragon whispered, “you have a choice to make. You can now leave and begin life anew, if thou so desire. Or”—the creature smiled down at its child—“you can watch over this one, once again—on one final quest—and risk losing your life in defense of her and those she loves.”
    Tempted. Specter did feel tempted to leave. Who wouldn’t? After all these years serving the prophets, serving God, he could lead a life of his own. He could pursue friendships—even love. The moment passed. Inwardly he smiled. But he bowed to the mighty white dragon. Loyalty, peace, selflessness, mercy—these virtues and more flowed through his soul because of this holy one. He would serve—once more. “I made my choice all those years ago to defend the innocent and uphold the righteous.” He smote the stone floor with his scythe’s handle, willing his garment to render him invisible. The cloak shimmered, blended into his surroundings, and he watched as Dantress Starfire stood. He would watch over her as if she were his own daughter. But safeguarding her would be easier if she had no knowledge of his presence.
    “Father,” Dantress said, rubbing her tired eyes. She curtsied before the white dragon, and the creature rumbled deep and long.
    Albino’s pink eyes shone through the mask of light that rose from his facial scales to hide his deformity. He was the picture of raw, natural power held within an equally powerful body. “My child,” the dragon said. “Since the day you lost your earthly life, you have sought to be near your husband at every opportunity. But seeing you would prevent Ilfedo from reaching his potential. His distracted state of mind would ultimately lead to the demise of thy child.”
    Dantress hung her head, and Specter thought he heard a sob escape her lips.
    The dragon raised her chin with the edge of his claw and sighed. “I have a task for you that will be exceedingly difficult, but it must be done. The Key of Living Fire is in jeopardy, and I cannot enter the Hidden Realm. It is my desire to send you there—but this mission must be undertaken by Ilfedo as well. I will send him to join you. Yet you must not reveal yourself to him during your mission.”
    Closing her eyes, the woman shook her head from side to side.
    The dragon growled and lowered its head to gaze into her eyes. “Would you rather I send another? Is this task above thee? Tell me the truth, Daughter.”
    “No, Father.” With a bow Dantress opened her eyes, gazed up at the creature. “I will go and secure the power of Living Fire.”
    “Very well.” Albino summarized his encounter with the witch at the portal. The aura round his face pulsed with white light, then shimmered. When he had finished his tale, the dragon pulled her to his chest in an embrace. His massive scaled hands hid her from view for that moment. “God be with you, my daughter.”
    Dantress stood away from the dragon and bowed. Her hair erupted into flames. Specter, knowing what must come next, stepped close to her. Maybe she heard the rustle of his cloak or felt the air move as he reached to touch her flaming skirt. Her eyes glanced through him, but she shook her head and her visage roiled violent flames. He felt