“I have not heard a sum yet.” A Black Tribesman called to Edwin from the back of the room. He was huge and he had long platted hair; they called him Ant.

“The Heart of the Chasers.”

“That is a myth,” Agatha argued.

“No, it is not.” Samuel assured her. “Why would we want a stone covered in hyperfine gold, anyway?”

“Do you want to run toe to toe with Blackthorn? You know the powers of that work of art.”

“What powers?” asked Celeste. She was a blue-skinned Elemental of the same archetype as Ariel Silverstone, and had adopted the same first name as Celeste Darkwater, the Elemental Archon of the Crabs. This coincidence had actually opened some opportunities for the Death Dealers, once or twice.

“It makes one fireproof…and we all know how Nicky loves to use his fire.” Edwin tempted Samuel.

“What is the job?” A male figure remained perched high in the rafters. He had the head of a black falcon, the body of an Adami, Adami arms that ended in finger-like black talons, and black-feathered wings; he was called Horus. Edwin could sense this being was mortal, so why was he in this gang? Edwin guessed he could fly, but in this weight class of beings Horus appeared to be the lightweight.

Agatha (reading Edwin’s thoughts, if not quite as clearly as Chris Alan could at Need) shook her head at Edwin’s naïveté. None of the Death Dealers, mortal or immortal, were lightweights; each had a deadly and (for the purposes of the team) a necessary specialty; and none who really knew them would underestimate them when working together.

“It’s simple. I want you to kill a child for me.”

”Whoa, a *kid*? Are you *insane*? The Lord would surely send Starbright after us,” Samuel complained.

“I’m *counting* on it.”

“Who is the kid?” Horus hissed.

“His name is Daniel, and he is five years old.” Edwin threw down a data chip at Samuel’s feet. “There’s all the information you need about him: his location, his appearance, the pertinent strategic, tactical and logistical information for getting into his star system unmolested, everything. I want him dead. There’s no need to know why and no need for you to grasp the reason. Just make sure he is dead.”

“And when the Wielder of the White Hand *does* come after us?” Agatha asked sharply.

“You’ll know what to do when the time comes, *believe* me.”

Samuel nodded. “O.K., Edwin you have a deal. I just never thought…”

“You have a job to do; just do it…” snapped Edwin as he teleported from sight.

*******************