There was a balance to the forces of the world, which were spread out throughout the planet, but in

certain spots, they became concentrated. Where there was negative energy, the people were depressed

and often violent, subject to great stresses. Where the energy was positive, the people thrived in an

environment that was relatively peaceful and crime-free, one that nourished them and subliminally

encouraged their natural creative impulses. Santa Fe was such a place. As such, it might have seemed an

unlikely haven for a necromancer, but Wulfgar understood that positive, free-flowing, creative energy

made for greater power than the erratic, pulsing, negative, and violent energies that could be found in

places like Tripoli, Tehran, Calcutta, or Beirut.

There was a balance to the forces of the world, which were spread out throughout the planet, but in

certain spots, they became concentrated. Where there was negative energy, the people were depressed

and often violent, subject to great stresses. Where the energy was positive, the people thrived in an

environment that was relatively peaceful and crime-free, one that nourished them and subliminally

encouraged their natural creative impulses. Santa Fe was such a place. As such, it might have seemed an

unlikely haven for a necromancer, but Wulfgar understood that positive, free-flowing, creative energy

made for greater power than the erratic, pulsing, negative, and violent energies that could be found in

places like Tripoli, Tehran, Calcutta, or Beirut.

They had underestimated the sophistication of the humans. The humans had evolved considerably while

the Dark Ones had slept. Their society and their methods of communication had become very much

advanced. They were much more clever now and far more dangerous. They were almost as much of a

threat as the runestones were. That was something that the others hadn't understood and they had paid

the price for it.

He had felt it when the others died. Of all the Dark Ones, Wulfgar was the strongest. The others had

always feared his power. He could still feel the presence of the ones who had survived after their escape,

but there were fewer of them now. He sensed their life forces dimly. They were hiding like frightened little

rabbits, carefully attempting to augment their weakened power in small doses . . . a homeless derelict

slain here, the remains painstakingly disposed of; a wayward child stolen there, never to be found. The

braver ones, those who had fallen to the power of the runestones, had flared briefly in his awareness, like

glowing coals suddenly bursting into flame, then they were just as suddenly snuffed out. They had

overreached themselves, had tried to do too much too quickly, and they had badly misjudged the power

of the avatars.

Wulfgar did not know who they were, but he had glimpsed them briefly in the moment when he and the

others had escaped. He had sensed their power, greatly augmented by their bonding with the runestones,

the living gems that held the spirits of the Council of the White. He knew that they were strong. He would

not have thought that humans could attain such power, even bonded with the runestones. Clearly, they

had to be descended from the Old Ones. That meant some of the Old Ones had survived the war and

perhaps were living still. If so, then they were weak, for he could not sense their presence. Perhaps they

had lived so long among the humans, passing as mortals, that their powers had ebbed. Immortals could

weaken over time if they did not replenish themselves, although they did not die, unless they were

careless and allowed themselves to be killed. Wulfgar had no intention of being careless.

In the old days, before the dawn of human history, when he and his kind had ruled the earth, the humans

had been little more than animals. Fragile, weak, and mortal, they were to the Old Ones what the apes

were to the humans. They were brainless and inferior, ugly, foul-smelling brutes barely even suitable for

slave labor. To the Old Ones, they were a sort of food, not flesh to be consumed, for nothing could be

more detestable than that, but repositories of life energy that could be tapped to fuel their spells. They

were constantly in heat and they multiplied like rabbits, so there was little danger of the resource being

depleted. Yet, as time went on and they started to evolve, though Wulfgar had not noticed them