“This ace, he’s gonna give me my finger back? ’Cause shit if I know how to find it. Probably got a crab chewing on it right now.”

Marcus swallowed. Hoping it was true, he said, “He can do it.”

Numbness. Drifting. An unconscious entity floated on a formless sea, devoid of thought, memory, sensation, consequence. She was a disembodied mind, adrift and unconscious.

From somewhere a million miles away, a woman’s voice said, “Wow. She did a number on you.”

A man’s voice, equally distant. “Yeah, well. I’ve had worse.”

It sounded like he was missing some teeth. Like he’d fallen face-first from a great height.

“How is she?”

“Not good. Not good. She’s been practically comatose like this since…” A sigh. “The shrink says she might have had a permanent psychotic break.”

“Damn,” said the woman’s voice. There was a name attached to it, a sound, a babbling brook. Babbling. Babel. “It must be awful, seeing this and wondering about your wife.”

Again, a man’s sigh. “She’s been over there awhile.”

“She’s a fighter. She’s tough.”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you, Mollie,” whispered the woman. “We saved Ana because of you.”

A warm pair of lips touched her forehead. Trembling. Compassionate.

Revolting.

The touch of flesh brought memories of severed flesh and bone, the taste and texture against her tongue … The thought of a mouth reminded her of crab-things scuttling through the shadows, hideous human-sized spiders covered every inch with suppurating wounds that licked themselves with scaly tongues and suckled with baby teeth. Of mouths that opened to scream but could only choke on the squamous eyeballs within.

The touch of flesh. Sick, suppurating flesh.

Again, the compassionate kiss. Horrifying, disgusting, unwelcome touch of flesh.

A scream parted the formless sea. It persisted until the sound shredded her throat and she coughed on blood.

But then she remembered what she had done to Ffodor, how she’d desecrated his body—shattered him, used his broken mutated arms and legs as clubs—and she wailed anew.

“Look,” Joey said, “all I’m saying is that the little mollusk has a magic touch. Wasn’t more than five minutes caressing my hand before he grew me a new digit. Felt good, too. Kinda like the best finger work ever, if you know what I mean.” She pointed her newly restored finger at Nurassyl. “This kid. Shit, when he’s growed and learns what he can do to a girl with them tentacles he’ll be swimming in pussy.”

Nurassyl, who was standing flanked by Marcus and Olena and facing a contingent of international aces, flushed suddenly crimson.

“Really, Joey!” Babel said. “I’m translating. There’s a little boy here.”

Joey shrugged. “Truth is truth.”

“I’m up next,” Bugsy said. “For the healing, like, not the weird joker kid-sex stuff.”