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and scabs in Tirion.”
    “You sure as hell talk too much,” said Peter.
    Azrael stiffened.
    Peter said, “It’s getting to you, ain’t it?”
    Tiny lines appeared around the edges of Azrael’s eyes.
    Peter said, “You’re just dying for someone to talk to. You come back to earth after all those years, and nothing’s the same as you remember. No one here even knows or cares who you are.” Now Peter laughed bitterly. “Yeah, I know what it must feel like. Welcome home, veteran.”
    A look of cold majesty darkened Azrael’s features. He stood abruptly, his hand lightly resting on the chair back, as if strongly urged to leave, strongly impelled to stay. He turned toward the door. Then, as if drawn against his will, he turned again toward Peter.
    “I have come to plead with you,” he said in a hushed tone, his eyes aglow with strange emotion.
    IV
    “I must have the Silver Key again, to bar the Gates of Everness; for dreams escape into the daylit world, now, before mankind has been made ready and equipped to conquer them.”
    “Ain’t working out the way you planned, is it?”
    Azrael said nothing. His face grew cold and haughty.
    Peter said, “The planetarium in the attic—if it still works and ain’t burnt—that’d tell you right where she was if she was on Earth. So she’s in the dream-land. But you—ain’t so easy to get around now, is it? How many gateways closed when so many paintings and tapestries went up in smoke? Or maybe the dream-colts don’t have to come anymore when you call? Well, well. Who the hell’s fault could that be?”
    Azrael gripped the chair back with his fist and his knuckles whitened, but his grim face showed no change of expression.
    Peter said, “Sure, I’ll help you, seeing as how you’re family and all. Mind if I call you ‘Dad’ while my dad is laid up?”
    Azrael pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes.
    Peter said, “And you made me so comfy here. You know I’m hungry all the time and my muscles are rotting? You know how much having this tube up my ass hurts?”
    “Where were you, sir, when I was in Tirion?” answered Azrael, lowering.
    “Where were you when I was young and hated my father for being a liar, when the only thing I wanted to do was meet the wizards he was always talking about?”
    Azrael’s dark eyes took on a sardonic glitter. “Forgive me, I was detained.”
    “And why the hell should I forgive you anything?” uttered Peter, a note of anger trembling in his low voice.
    Azrael’s face grew stern again, like a stone door closing. “Everness can be healed with the Silver Key and this world defended from the hordes of dream. Defended and more.”
    Peter squinted. “Out with it. What more?”
    V
    Azrael leaned forward, his face, for once, not a mask, but showing deep and animated passion. “This world, and man, are mightiest things; yet they have not yet pulled down the stars to do them homage. The thousand worlds and far-flung golden realms beyond, with all their majesty and twilight-haunted splendor, are as nothing to this iron world and its dreadful, daylight strength. It shall all be ours.
    “The prophecy reports the next King lives, even now, somewhere upon the Earth; now, even now; the King destined to restore the Empire and knit up the sundered universe. His bloodline shall rule both gods and men; his sway shall reach unbound beyond Heaven, Earth, and Hell, to compass all cosmos entire. No less than the cosmos shall the kingdom be; nations shall be subjects as much as constellations.
    “The last King, I lost to Oberon and Nimue, and the promised Empire was stillborn, slain by Cupid’s bow and fairy-scheming.
    “Now again he comes, the King; and the gods themselves tremble on their onyx thrones, and the plumes of their wide wings all tremble, for they know the conquests of High Heaven cannot be stopped, if my wit can unwind their spirit-snares; and this world shall be the throne and capital of all creation!”
    VI
    “New king, eh?”