“What have you done, brother?" Anubis snarled. "You have betrayed us.""I did what I had to do to save the world.""Chain him," Anubis commanded. He looked at his brother and his stuff face managed to twist and contort in rage. "Waerloga,"he spat.The Elder nodded in agreement. "Aten the Warlock. It has a ring to it, don't you think?”

“In the Duat, Anubis looked as he always had, with his tousled dark hair and lovely brown eyes, but I’d never seen him filled with such rage. I realized that anyone who dared to hurt me would suffer his full wrath, and Walt wasn’t going to hold him back.”

“Who was it who said, 'The promise given was a necessity of the past: the word broken is a necessity of the present'?"The Italian looked quickly at the American immortal and then he dipped his head in a bow. "I do believe I said that once...a long, long time ago.""You also wrote that a prince never lacks legitimate reasons to break his promise," Billy said with a grin."Yes, I did say that.You're full of surprises, Billy."Billy looked from the city to the Italian. "So what do you see-faceless masses or individuals?""Individuals," Machiavelli whispered."Reason enough to break your promise to your Elder master and a bird-tailed monster?"Machiavelli nodded. "Reason enough," he said."I knew you were going to say that." The American immortal reached out and squeezed the Italian's arm. "You're a good man, Niccolo Machiavelli.""I don't think so. Right now, my thoughts make me waerloga-an oath breaker.A warlock.""Warlock." Billy the Kid tilted his head. "I like it. Got a nice ring to it. I'm thinking I might become a warlock too.”

“My father will find you and kill you for what you have done.” She said to him solemnly.Maligo towered over her, a leering smile twisting his dark face.“You would have to consider yourself lucky if you ever see your father again. Even if it is while he watches me take your life.” He snarled, allowing a haughty smirk creep across his face.”

“Old Marsh wore a look of sorrow upon his face. “You called him, miss. You called him. You must send him back now. You must send him back. He won’t be the brother you remember. It ain’t his spirit comes back. I told you that. It’s the soul of death comes back, that’s what it is, miss. The soul of death in disguise like your brother. Only the one who called him can send him back. I saw the bird in the cellars, in the bowl, miss. I know what you done. I know what you called.”

“He’s twisting everything. He’s killing himself, killing innocents so that he can have his Gris-damned revenge on my brother. “This isn’t about saving the Hobs,” I hiss at him. “And it never was.” “No,” he says, and he grins. His eyes are frightened, giving the lie to his cheer. “But I did always love a good spectacle.”