"Our goals are not so different," Kumori said. "Grevane and the Corpsetaker are madmen. They must be stopped."
"From what I've seen of old Cowl, he's a couple of french fries short of a Happy Meal too."
"And you would do what?" Kumori asked. "Prevent them from reaping the bounty of the Darkhallow? Take the power for yourself?"
"I want to make sure nobody takes it," I said. "I don't particularly care how I get it done."
"Truly?" she asked.
I nodded. "Now here's where I make you an offer."
She hesitated, clearly taken off guard. "Very well."
"Bail," I told her. "Leave Cowl and the Sociopath Squad to their squabbling. Give me what information I need to stop them."
"He'd kill me in a day," she said.
"No," I told her. "I'd take you to the White Council. I'd get you protection."
She stared at me from within her hood, utterly silent.
"See, Kumori, you're sort of a puzzle," I said. "Because you're working with these necromancers. In fact, I'm willing to bet you aren't bad at necromancy yourself. But you went out of your way to save someone's life the other night, and that just doesn't jive with that crowd."
"Doesn't it?" she said.
"No. They're killers. Good at it, but they're just killers. They wouldn't take a step out of their way to help someone else. But you went way the hell out of your way to help a stranger. It says that you aren't like them."
She was silent for a moment more. Then she said, "Do you know why Cowl has made a study of necromancy? And why I have joined him?"
"No."
"Because necromancy embraces the power of death, just as magic embraces the power of life. And as magic can be twisted and perverted to cruel and destructive ends, necromancy can be turned upon its nature as well. Death can be warded off, as I did for the wounded man that night. Life can be served by that dark power, if one's will and purpose are strong."
"Uh- huh," I said. "You got involved with the darkest and most corruptive, insanity-causing forces in the universe so that you could jump-start wounded bodies to life."
She moved her hand, a sudden, slashing motion. "No. No, you idiot. Don't you see the potential here? The possibility to end death."
"Uh. End death?"
"You will die," she said. "I will die. Cowl will die. Everyone now walking this tired old world knows but one solid, immutable fact. Their life will end. Yours. Mine. Everyone's."
"Yeah," I said. "That's why they call us 'mortals.' Because of the mortality."
"Why?" she asked.
"What?"
"Why?" she repeated. "Why must we die?"
"Because that's the way it is," I said.
"Why must that be the way it is?" she said. "Why must we all live with that pain of separation? With horrible grief? With rage and loss and sorrow and vengeance ruling the lives of every soul beneath the sky? What if we could change it?"
"Change it," I said, my skepticism clear in my voice. "Change death."
"Yes," she said.
"Just... poof. Make it go away."
"What if we could?" she said. "Can you imagine what it would mean? If mere age would not lay mankind low after his threescore and ten, how much better would the world be? Can you imagine if da Vinci had continued to live, to study, to paint, to invent? That the remarkable accomplishments of his lifetime could have continued through the centuries rather than dying in the dim past? Can you imagine going to see Beethoven in concert? Taking a theology class taught by Martin Luther? Attending a symposium hosted by Albert Einstein? Think, Dresden. It boggles the mind."
I thought about it.
And she was right.
Supposing for half a second that what she said might be possible, it would mean... Hell. It would change everything. There would be so much more time, and for everyone. Wizards lived for three or even four centuries, and to them even their own lives seemed short. What Kumori was talking about, the end of death itself, would give everyone else the same chance to better themselves that wizards enjoyed. It would, in a single stroke, create more parity between wizards and the rest of mankind than any single event in history.
But that was insane. Setting out to conquer death? People died. That was a fact of life.
But what if they didn't have to?
What if my mother hadn't died? Or my father? How different would my life be today?
Impossible. You couldn't just drive death away.
Could you?
Maybe that wasn't the point. Maybe this was one of those things in which the effort meant more than the outcome. I mean, if there was a chance, even a tiny, teeny chance that Kumori was right, and that the world could be so radically changed, wouldn't I be obliged to try? Even if I never reached the goal, never finished the quest, wouldn't the attempt to vanquish death itself be a worthy pursuit?
Wow.
This question was a big one. Way bigger than me.
I shook my head and told Kumori, "I don't know about that. What I know is that I've seen the fruits of that kind of path. I saw Cowl try to murder me when I got in his way. I've seen what Grevane and the Corpsetaker have done. I've heard about the suffering and misery Kemmler caused-and is still causing today, thanks to his stupid book.
"I don't know about something as big as trying to murder death. But I know that you can tell a tree from what kind of fruit falls off it. And the necromancy tree doesn't drop anything that isn't rotten."
"Ours is a calling," Kumori said, her voice flat. "A noble road."
"I might be willing to believe you if so much of that road wasn't paved in the corpses of innocents."
I saw her head shake slowly beneath the hood. "You sound like them. The Council. You do not understand."
"Or maybe I'm just not quite arrogant enough to start rearranging the universe on the assumption that I know better than God how long life should last. And there's a downside to what you're saying, too. How about trying to topple the regime of an immortal Napoleon, or Attila, or Chairman Mao? You could as easily preserve the monsters as the intellectual all-stars. It can be horribly abused, and that makes it dangerous."
I faced her down for a long and silent second. Then she let out a sigh and said, "I think we have exhausted the possibilities of this conversation."
"You sure?" I asked her. "The offer is still open. If you want to get out, I'll get the Council to protect you."