"Wait!" cried Finch. "In the name of the gods, as a condemned man, I have the right to one request before "Nergal."
"That is most true."
"Then I wish the carnelian cube."
"This?" said the new King, with an expression of surprise. With a gesture he stripped off the tiny ornament. "Take it, then, living, to return it dead. For the world is too large for any to refashion it according to the fancy of his liver and those who try, as you, come to grief and strong sorrow, and they wish they had never begun, and yet what is done cannot be undone. Dream well, then."
Finch went quietly with the soldiers who took either arm. The carnelian cube was slippery in his fingers; it had been warmed by his hand.
By God, he'd dream himself into an ideal world yet!