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It wouldn’t surprise me to learn that he wishes to study the human, rather than terminate her.”
    “He is a fool.”
    Tiberius said nothing.
    “If he puts himself between the Alliance and the girl,” Dirque said, “you understand that your friend may die.”
    “I understand.”
    Dirque drew in a breath. “I am pleased you see the full scope of the problem, and that your actions are not stymied by either friendship or a false sense of obligation.”
    “My actions are motivated by survival,” Tiberius said. “My own, and the Alliance’s.”
    Dirque’s smile was slow and thin. “You’re wiser than I have ever given you credit for.”
    “Sir,” Tariq began, taking a step toward his uncle’s bed. “I’m not following. What about the girl? What power?” The two Alliance members exchanged glances, and Tariq felt a sharp tug of irritation. “You have tasked me to assist the Alliance, and I’m honored to do so, but I can be very little help without knowing exactly what you are concerned about.”
    Dirque remained silent.
    “He must know,” Tiberius said. “He cannot fight what he does not understand.”
    “Yes,” Dirque said, and Tariq saw what looked like fear sparking in his uncle’s deep yellow eyes.
    That, however, was impossible. The master jinn feared nothing.
    “Yes,” Dirque repeated. “Of course.” He drew in a breath and faced Tariq, all signs of fear gone. Instead, there was only the familiar strength and a cold determination. “For over two thousand years the Alliance has waited and watched, fearing the fruition of the prophecy spoken to us by the Oracle at Delphi.”
    “A prophecy?”
    “From the touch of Eve, destruction shall rise—a third, powerful and changed, who emerges from the earth, and who will fell the piers upon which the shadows rule, and take back that which was stolen.”
    Tariq shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
    “An enemy comes,” Tiberius said, moving closer. “Someone created from the touch of a woman, who will destroy the Alliance.”
    “The Alliance?”
    “The piers upon which the shadows rule,” Dirque said.
    “The Alliance controls the shadowers,” Tariq said, as the pieces fell into place. “And a pier—”
    “Supports,” Dirque said. “The piers of a house form its foundation. One falls, and the house cannot survive.”
    “And you think the girl is this enemy?”
    “No,” Tiberius said. “The girl is Eve. The enemy was Sergius.”
    Tariq frowned. “But Serge is dead.”
    “And as long as Petra lives, she can create another just like him.”
    Understanding dawned. “Shit,” he whispered. “It does fit. But what does the third mean?” Tariq asked. “The third try?”
    “You are not so young, nephew. How can it be that you are not familiar with the histories?”
    “You mean the mythology.” A whole bunch of bullshit stories about the way the shadowers came into being.
    “All myths begin with a kernel of fact.”
    Tariq looked sideways at his uncle. “So you’re telling me that vampires and werewolves and jinns and para-daemons all descend from two warring brothers? Seriously?”
    “Is that so hard to believe?”
    It seemed pretty damn absurd, actually. Two brothers who crossed over from another dimension and found the earth a vast paradise, with weak humans whom they could bend to their will, either enslaving or endowing with the powers of their world, changing them into creatures no longer human. A ridiculous origination myth, as silly as stories about Zeus or Thor or whatever else ancient peoples had put their faith in.
    But as ridiculous as it sounded, Tariq could see in his uncle’s eyes that the stories were not myth to him, but fact. And Tariq knew better than to challenge his uncle. For that matter, he wasn’t so naïve as to think that Tiberius would put Montegue’s head on the chopping block unless they were dealing with some truly serious shit.
    Maybe the stories were real and maybe they weren’t. But