toward the door. “How did she see me?”
Lowering his head, his jaw moved. “That is my savant successor, Mr. Greeves. She made her choice.”
“Your successor?”
Firmly, impatiently, he replied. “My successor.”
I lowered my head in response, understanding, “Then I am.”
“Yes,” he said. “Yes, you are already dead.”
“And she is?”
“As I stated, my successor.”
"Yes, then. Yes,” I said, looking up. “I have two choices.”
Again, he grinned.
Questioning, I began, “What is the...”
“To live again,” he said, cutting me off. “That is the first choice. You may be reborn, but it has a high price. One
few are willing to pay.”
“I thought I paid my fee?”
“You paid your entry fee. This is payment for your choice. The bigger the choice, the higher the cost. The fee for
rebirth is that one of your loved ones will take your place in death. They would exist in eternal servitude.”
Disturbed and distraught at that concept and what type of person would choose that, I ushered it out of my
mind.
“And the second choice?” I asked.
“The warren,” he replied coldly.
“The what?”
“A morass, a labyrinth. An enclosed area offering constant considerations. Its offerings are beyond imagination.”
“For example?”
“They’re based on the person, Mr. Greeves.”
His grin widened to a full smile.
“Shall we find out what kind of person you are, Mr. Greeves?”
Interested in this story? Keep an eye out for Ben Clayton’s forthcoming book at http://www.lncartstudios.com/