The void laughed quietly.

"Just the hunger. Eternal hunger. And the emptiness inside. You wouldn't like it, I'm sure."

"What else is there?" asked the man.

"Werewolves," his invisible companion replied almost jocularly. "They can initiate a man too. But werewolves are also one of the lower forms of Dark Others. Most of the time everything's fine… but when the frenzy comes over you, you won't be able to control yourself. Three or four nights each month. Sometimes more, sometimes less."

"The new moon," the man said with an understanding nod.

The void laughed again. "No. Werewolves' frenzies aren't linked to the lunar cycle. You'd be able to sense the onset of the madness ten or twelve hours before the moment of transformation. But no one can draw up a precise timetable for you."

"That won't do," the man said frostily. "I repeat my… request. I wish to become an Other. Not one of the lower Others who are overwhelmed by fits of bestial insanity. Not a great magician, involved in great affairs. A perfectly ordinary, rank-and-file Other… how does that classification of yours go? Seventh-level?"

"It's impossible," the night replied. "You don't have the abilities of an Other. Not even the slightest trace. You can teach someone with no musical talent to play the violin. You can become a sportsman, even if you don't have any natural aptitude for it. But you can't become an Other. You're simply a different species. I'm very sorry."

The man on the embankment laughed. "Nothing is ever impossible. If the lowest form of Others is able to initiate human beings, then there must be some way a man can be turned into a magician."

The dark night said nothing.

"In any case, I didn't say I wanted to be a Dark Other. I don't have the slightest desire to drink innocent people's blood and go chasing virgins through the fields, or giggle ghoulishly as I lay a curse on someone," the man said testily. "I would much rather do good deeds… and in general, your internal squabbles mean absolutely nothing to me!"