In Albrecht’s darkened office, someone moved hesitantly toward the door. It was Mick Skinner.

Frances took a step forward — no, it was a stagger, a widening of an unstable stance — and flung her left hand up to her face. The pistol wobbled and sank. Cassidy, glancing at Tom, moved toward her. Then the hand over her face dropped, and showed the blackness of her eyes, and her clenched teeth. She brought the end of the silencer to bear on Cassidy. I heard Dana suck her breath in; but Cassidy stepped back.

Tom had used Mick, the shock of him, to break Frances’s concentration. Then he’d struck at her, hard enough to cut her loose, for a moment, from her muscles. But Frances was in fragile command of herself now, and Tom stood relaxed for the first time since Frances had come into the room. He’d struck and let her go. It was a gesture of contempt.

Mick looked like someone enduring the course of a natural disaster. His once-neat braids were coming loose, coils and streaks of hair stuck in the sweat on his forehead and jaw, and his clean-lined features were marked with weariness and emotion. Sweat striped and dotted the chest of the T-shirt he wore. He must have come from the island on foot, and quickly. At Tom’s command. His hands opened and closed at his side. “Guilty,” he said softly, looking at Frances. And, in an echo of himself, “My family was in Galveston.”

“I was going to tell you,” said Frances. Her eyes were on his face; her voice was low and unsteady. “By deed, if not by word. Feel free to reproach me, but you won’t catch up to what I’ve done to myself. I’ve had more time, after all. But what about you? What will you have to reproach yourself for?”

“You ought to die.” Mick sounded half strangled.

“So should your ally, here. Leave us out of it. You didn’t inform Tom of my arrival out of sheer righteous indignation. Christ, I wish you had. Then maybe you’d have kept all these civilians out of range of my comeuppance. Besides, Tom hadn’t told you I was one of the ones responsible for the Bang, had he? He wanted me to convict myself. He knew you’d hurt more that way. So why did you tell him we were coming? What superior philosophy made it necessary to warn the snake about the scorpion?”

Mick was silent.

“Or was it not philosophy at all?” Her voice was softer now. “You can walk away from him, Mick. Now. I can hold him that long. Take Sparrow and get away from here. There’s nothing he can do to you. If he told you otherwise, it was a lie.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Tom broke in, cheerful. “Ol’ Skin, his experience tells him different.”

“I tried,” Mick said. “He sent Myra and Dusty after me. I dumped my body and rode Sparrow, figuring I could hide out that way, just until things cooled down. But they found me. I got away from them, but I think I was supposed to. He can find me anytime he wants, Fran, and now he can find Sparrow, too.”