I checked that her dagger was securely in the sheath, exited the car, and walked through the door into the office. All of our desks had been moved aside and put by the wall. Ascanio sat on my desk. He’d called me from Cutting Edge before I left the house asking me if he should let Saiman in. I told him to do it.

A large young woman with a mane of dark curly hair pulled back from her face sat on a chair. She turned when I walked in. Her lips were blue and the traditional ta moko covered her chin. Maori. It didn’t look smooth either. Someone had used a uni chisel instead of modern tattoo needles.

In the center of the now-empty office, a small raised platform stood. Several full-length mirrors waited stacked against the far wall. Saiman turned as I walked in. I had expected him to be back in his neutral shape. He wasn’t. He was six feet tall, gaunt, and frail, leaning on a cane, and the black bodysuit he wore showed off every rib. His face was still that of a frost giant. He’d humanized it enough for people not to stare at him on the streets and that was it. His sunken cheeks made the cheekbones in his face even more prominent. Eyes made of winter ice looked at me from under shaggy eyebrows. Two small night tables and a large wooden chest stood on the floor by him.

“Have you eaten?” I asked.

“Yes. I need you to strip and stand on the platform.”

Everybody wanted to take my clothes off today. I pulled off my boots and began to strip.

Curran decided this was a good time to walk in. He looked at me, looked at Saiman, and parked himself by the wall with his arms crossed.

I stripped to my underwear and a sports bra and climbed onto the platform.

“Zoe, if you please.”

The Maori woman picked up a large drawing pad and walked over.

“This is Zoe. She is able to see an image for an instant and perfectly reproduce it. Given the impact seeing the writing had on me, we have to take certain precautions.”

Saiman nodded and Zoe went to stand behind me.

Saiman waved at Ascanio. The bouda jumped off the table and came over.

“Take a mirror and set it so Zoe can see her reflection.”

Ascanio picked up one of the mirrors and set it in front of me.

“A little more to the left,” Zoe said.

He moved the mirror and kicked the stand with his foot, opening it. I saw my reflection in the mirror. The bruises were fading.

“And the mirror is supposed to help?”

“Yes. The writing loses potency with reflection.”

“How do you know this?”