The hands of an Immortal.
"Me?"
It was almost impossible. But he knew it was true.
"You will never die," Daveen said.
"I will never die."
"Two!" said Daveen suddenly.
Kesley was thrown back in his seat by the unexpected, second data-release. When it was over, he looked up again, smiling.
"An Immortal and the son of an Immortal. Small wonder Miguel and Winslow wanted to kill me!"
The words of Winslow's sentence came drifting back now: "... you represent as great a threat to the Twelve Empires as has ever been born, my young friend."
Of course! Twelve sterile Dukes, blessed with eternal life but cursed with the inability to reproduce—what would they do, how would they react when they knew that one line of Immortals, somewhere in Earth, bred true? That they were faced with the prospect of a gathering race of Immortals threatening their powers as the years rolled on?