“Oh, Chernobog, God of Bone, In the name of Darkness, in the name of the Final End, Grant your creature your strength, Heal the wounds and make it whole.” The darkness slipped from his fingers, clutched the dog, and seeped into the open wounds. The flesh knitted itself closed. Roman petted the dog’s head. “Congratulations. You’re evil enough.” The dog stared at him, puzzled. Evil in the pagan world was a relative term. Evil in the human world was not.
