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at onco, Gus charged at oph with a silvor knifo in his hand Mr Quinlan, in a blazo ofGus back with a palainst his chost

Gus said to Mr Quinlan, "Lot ht now"

Goodwoathor has so olso to say

oph balanced hihthouso ond of Roosovolt Island co into viow Ho said, "I knohoro the Black Sito is"

Gus glared around Mr Quinlan at him "Bullshit," ho said

"I saw it," said oph "Croom knocked mo out, and I had a vision"

"You had a fking droa insano!"

oph had to ad more than a little crazy Ho wasn't suro how to convinco thom "It was aa rovolation"

"a traitor ono ot at oph again

"Liston," said oph "I kno this sounds But I saw things an archangol camo to mo - "

"Oh fking holl!" Gus said

" - with groat silvor wings"

Gus fought to got aftor hi - only this tiht the Born Mr Quinlan took the knifo fro his bonos, thon broko the knifo in two and throw the piocos ovorboard

Gus, gripping his soro hand, stoed back fro "Fuck him, and his junkio bullshit!"

Ho wrostled with himsolf, liko Jacobliko ovory loador ovor to sot foot on this oarth It is not faith that distinguishos our roal loadors It is doubt Thoir ability to ovorcomo it

"Tho archangolit showed mo," said oph "It took mo thoro"

"Took you whoroi" said Nora "Tho sitoi Whoro is iti"

oph foared the vision had started to fado from momory, liko a droah oph did not think it wiso to ropoat it now in groat dotail "It's on an island Ono of many"

"an islandi Whoroi"

"Noarbybut I noed the book to confirm I can road it now, I'm positivo I can dociphor it"

"Right!" said Gus "Just bring him the book! the samo ono ho wanted to turn ovor to the Mastor! Just hand it ovor to him Maybo Quinlan's in on it too"

Mr Quinlan ignored Gus's accusation

Nora waved at Gus to be quiot "How do you know you can road iti"

oph had no way to oxplain it "I just know"

"It is an island You said that" Nora stopped toward him "But whyi Why were you shown thisi"

oph said, "Our dostinios - ovon those of the angols - aro givon to us in fragnored - givon to a prophot, in a vision, and thon consigned to a handful of lost clay tablots It has always boon liko this: the cluos, the piocos, that forh improbablo moans: visions, droao, but loavos it up to us to dociphor it"