Diago woke up with a start.

  He had no way of knowing exactly how much time had passed but knew it took several hours to heal oneself completely—something a Healer could have done in a few seconds. He stood up and took a few steps around the room. His eye was once again able to see everything around him and his wings were intact, as if nothing had happened. Capa had not lied when he’d said they would allow him to heal himself.

  It was a horrible insult to the intelligence of his captors but, in the absence of anything better occurring to him, he went over every inch of the room in search of some possible escape route. Just as he’d expected, there was none. So he placed all his hopes in a rescue and concentrated on figuring out their motives for capturing him. They obviously must have wanted something from him since, otherwise, he’d be dead. Nilia wouldn’t have let him live without a good reason; he was sure of that. The first thing that went through his head was that they would try to get information from him, although in following that line of thought he didn’t understand why they would have let him heal himself. And there was something else that didn’t fit, too, and that was that they would have known he would never tell them anything. He would die before revealing a single thing about the Nest to the enemy. Another possibility was that they were planning to use him as a hostage to demand something in exchange for his freedom, but he couldn’t imagine what that could be. In any case, he guessed it wouldn’t be long before he found out. They’d soon be paying him a visit and the suspense would be over.

  He’d spent a long time mulling it over and was beginning to walk around in circles like a caged animal. His frustration was rapidly mounting. He wondered what Asius would think when they informed him that the Guardian assigned to capture Raven was now in the hands of his worst enemy. He remembered how the Counselor had warned him about that possibility when he went to Earth just after Edmon had died. Asius had shared with him his fears with respect to the demons, and Diago had considered his concerns to be exaggerated. How na?ve he’d been! Now he was going to pay dearly for that lack of trust in his friend’s good judgment.

  Diago was in the middle of the room when he suddenly lost his ability to see. He stood there, paralyzed with shock. A second later he realized his eyes had not lost their function, rather, he was trapped in a sudden darkness. He immediately knew it was not the result of someone having turned out the light. This kind of darkness was so dense and so completely encased him it seemed to actually be clinging to his body. It felt cold; almost icy. His body temperature descended rapidly. At first he couldn’t see his own hands in front of his face but, as the seconds passed, his eyes began to adapt and he was able to make out just his own body. This was another unmistakable sign that this darkness was not natural. Never before had his vision struggled so to see his surroundings.

  The sound of the door opening was cushioned by the dense blackness; it was as if the door was much farther away from him. Someone was there with him in the room.

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  “How does it feel to be in Hell?” asked a distorted voice.

  “Capa?” asked Diago, confused. His sense of hearing was disoriented by the darkness.

  He saw a silhouette move in front of him, like a blur of hazy outlines. Whoever it was slapped him in the face, causing his head to snap to the right. Out of the corner of his eye he saw another swift movement and a blow to the ribs came at him from the other side. He staggered, almost falling to the floor.

  “My good friend, you now have available to you a vague idea of what it feels like to be in Hell,” Capa explained. “Of course the temperature in this place is more pleasant, as are many other aspects. But it’s better than nothing, don’t you think?”

  The kick that connected with the inside of his left leg knocked him to one knee. Capa circled around him. Though with each revolution he could see him more clearly, his vision was slow to improve and his aggressor still appeared as nothing more than a swift shadow. Only when he stood still could Diago clearly make him out.

  “I see you’ve chosen to kill me after all.” Diago spat the words out. “You are nothing but a fraud.”

  “You are going to get me to give up all hope on you—after all.” Capa was standing still, so Diago sprang at him, trying to grab him. He closed his hands around the place where his eyes told him Capa should be but he caught hold of nothing but air even though he’d noticed no movement of any kind. His eyes were deceiving him. This time the blow hit him in the back, arching his spine as he was propelled forward. “I will reiterate for the last time that the only thing driving my actions is your well-being.”

  “So the Hole has made you completely crazy.” Diago was having trouble speaking. The beating he was taking was beginning to sap his strength. “Finish this once and for all, you damn coward!”

  “How ungrateful of you. And I was so holding out hope you would finally appreciate what I’m doing for you.” Capa delivered a forceful punch to Diago’s face; he felt his lips split on impact. Blood started running down his chin. “It’s getting harder and harder for me to recognize my old friend, whom I admired so much.”

  Diago didn’t even have the strength to respond. He could now clearly see Capa’s outline, and not only that, but he could make out the features of his face when he wasn’t moving. His voice no longer sounded distorted, so he knew his hearing was also adapting to the darkness. But he saw it was useless to put up resistance. The cold was coursing through his body, and his reflexes were getting slower and slower.

  He was on his knees, listening to the sound of his blood dripping on the floor from his mouth, when a kick to the chest lifted him in the air and launched him backwards. He slammed against the floor on his back, and let out a painful groan.

  The light was back on!

  Diago lay there, face up, staring into the bulb on the ceiling now flooding the room with light. His body was quickly beginning to feel warmer and he no longer felt the weight of the darkness upon him. As he struggled to get up, his jaw dropped at the sight of an enormous black sphere in the center of the room. He knew his first impression had been right; no one had turned out the light. They had somehow used the sphere to generate the blackness in the part of the room where he was. Capa’s last kick had knocked him out of the circle of blackness, and that’s why he could now see again.

  He finished standing up, took a few steps back and unfolded his wings, unwilling to succumb without fighting to his last breath.

  He heard the door opening and then closing again.

  The black sphere disappeared and he saw he was alone again in the room.

  Diago had no idea what had just happened.