"The secret is how to die."
"With this offering of self, Mal`akh would establish himself in the hierarchy of demons...
I have served them, and they will receive me as a god.
Peter did not move.
He simply stared down at the ancient knife gripped in his hand"
(TLS 446-7).
"I will you," Mal`akh taunted, "I am a willing sacrifice.
Your final role has been written.
You will transform me.
You will liberate me from my body.
You will do this, or lose your sister and your brotherhood...
Consider this your final punishment."
Peter's eyes rose slowly to meet Mal`akh's.
"Killing you? A punishment?
Do you think I will hesitate?
You murdered my son. My mother. My entire family."
"No!"
Mal`akh exploded...
"You are wrong!
I did not murder your family!
You Did!
It was your choice"...
Peter's knuckles turned white, his fingers clenching the knife in rage...
"You know nothing"...
"I know everything!"
Mal`akh fired back.
"I was there...
What kind of father gives a child the choice between "weath and wisdom'
and expects him to know how to handle it!
What kind of father leaves his own son in a prison instead of flying him home to safety!"
Mal`akh now moved in front of Peter and crouched down,
placing his tattooed face only inches from his face.
"But most important...what kind of father can look his son in the eyes...
even after all these years...and not even recognize him!"
"Yes Father. Its me."
Mal`akh had waited years for this moment...
to take revenge on the man who had abandoned him...
to watch the full weight of his words...
crush Peter Solomon's soul...
Peter's face was now as pale as death...
"My own father made the decision to leave me in prison...
I vowed that he had rejected me for the last time.
I was no longer his son.
Zachary Solomon ceased to exist."
Two glistening teardrops welled suddenly in his father's eyes..."
"All the warden wanted was money," Mal`akh said, but you refused.
It never occured to you, though,
that my money was just as green as yours.
The warden did not care who paid him...
When I offered to pay him handsomely,
he selected a sickly inmate about my size...
and beat him beyond recognition.
The photo you saw...
the sealed casket you buried...
they were not mine.
They belonged to a stranger."
Peter's tear-streaked face contorted now with anguish and disbelief.
"Oh my God...Zachary."
"Not anymore."
When Zachary walked out of prison, he was transformed"
(447-8).