Many who had known Gray in her long life would have said that it was an impossibility. But her face whitened, and she muttered to herself, "Sweet spirits, no. It can't be him. Surely he's long dead by now." She paused, looking skyward, then down the road, hoping against hope that it wouldn't be him. No such luck. A dark haired man leaned against his staff, his black robes trailing in the dust. His face was as arrogant and cruel as she remembered. "So it worked," she said in a monotone voice that nonetheless conveyed a sense of horror. "It worked after all." She glanced at Kalabar. "Yes, I know him. "Akuma, the black sorceror of Telenis."