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Gus was searching the room for Mr. Quinlan—or his remains—but the Ancients’ chief hunter was nowhere to be found.

The narrow door at the left end of the room, however, the ebony door Quinlan had retreated to after they entered, was ajar.

The Ancients’ words came back to Gus, from their first meeting:

He is our best hunter. Efficient and loyal. In many respects, unique.

Had Quinlan somehow been spared? Why hadn’t he disintegrated like the rest?

“What is it?” asked Setrakian, approaching Gus.

Gus said, “One of the hunters, Quinlan… he left no trace… Where did he go?”

“It doesn’t matter anymore. You are free of them now,” said Setrakian. “Free of their control.”

Gus looked back at the old man. “Ain’t none of us free for long.”

“You will have the chance to release your mother.”

“If I find her.”

“No,” said Setrakian. “She will find you.”

Gus nodded. “So—nothing’s changed.”

“One thing. They would have made you one of their hunters if they had succeeded in pushing back the Master. You have been spared that.”

“We’re splitting,” said Creem. “If it’s all the same to you. We know the ropes now and it seems to me we can carry on with the good work. But we all have families to gather. Or maybe we don’t. Either way, we have places to secure. But if you ever need the Sapphires, Gus—you just come and find us.”

Creem shook hands with Gus. Angel stood by uncertainly. He sized up one gang leader, and then the other. He nodded at Gus. The big ex-wrestler had chosen to stay.

Gus turned to Setrakian. “I’m one of your hunters now.”

Setrakian said, “You don’t need anything more from me. But I need one more thing from you.”

“Just name it.”

“A ride. A fast one.”

“Fast is my specialty. They got more Hummer

s in a garage underneath this funhouse. Unless that shit evaporated too.”

Gus went off to claim a vehicle. Fet had located, inside a chest of drawers in an adjoining room, a briefcase full of cash. He dumped out the paper currency so that Angel had something to deposit the Ancients’ ashes in. He had heard the entire conversation with Gus. “I think I know where we are going.”

“No,” said Setrakian, still looking distracted, only half-there. “Just me.” He handed Fet the Occido Lumen and his notebook.

“I don’t want this,” said Fet.

“You must take it. And remember. Sadum, Amurah. Will you remember that, Vasiliy?”

“I don’t need to remember anything—I’m going with you.”

“No. The book is the thing now. It must be kept safe, and out of the Master’s claws. We can’t lose it now.”

“We can’t lose you.”

Setrakian shook that off. “I am very nearly lost as it is.”