Malach's eyes glittered fervently. They were black, not blue, and the hair peeking out from the edge of the mask was a dark blond. The incongruities were dismissible because if this was an illusion, everything was adjustable, including the build, which was similar to Levi's but a couple inches shorter.

"Return that which is mine," he said, "and I shall allow you to live."

"You'll have to be more specific." I bit into the jerky.

"The feather." His lips compressed ...