Roland came close. “No, not bleeding, it’s all sealed. Ah, what an amazing creature you are. But I’m not surprised. I’ve beaten you before, haven’t I, and you’ve always healed. I broke your arm once, didn’t I? Was it your left arm? And it healed, didn’t it? I wonder how much of you might be divided away before you lose your capacity to reason. Any gift can be used as its opposite. Immortality can be a terrible thing.”

His face was dark because the fire was behind him. But Derek could just make out the glitter of his eyes, and see his gleaming white teeth as he smiled.

“I suppose if your chest is divided from your head, you’ll die, but perhaps not.”

“Roland,” said Arion, “I beg you. Don’t torture him. This is all so wrong.”

Allesandra was weeping.

“Think on it now,” said Roland to Derek, “and when we return, have something to offer us in exchange for your right arm, or perhaps for your right eye, or for your right leg.”

Derek closed his eyes. I want to die, he thought. I am finished. It is over. Kapetria lives, but she will never find me. It is too late for me. He was sobbing, but his sobs made no sound, and the tears slid down his face and it didn’t matter. He tried to feel his missing left arm and hand as if they were invisibly still connected to him, but they weren’t there, and the dull heat throbbed in his left shoulder stronger than before.

“That’s enough, I can’t bear anymore!” cried Allesandra. “I say we leave him alone now. We have work to do. Rhosh, you have solicitors, men who can use the information about this Garekyn creature…”

“…So does the Court!” said Rhosh. “You don’t think they’re using a battery of human cohorts to track down these missing beings!”

“And that should stop us from searching for him as well?”

“Let’s go now, Rhosh,” Arion pleaded. “I need to hunt. I want to hunt. I’ve had enough of this. This Garekyn has an address in London. Rhosh, your solicitors are in London. You might find out far more about this Garekyn being than you’ll ever get from this poor battered boy.”

And they were going. He could hear them. He lay, knees to one side, wounded shoulder against the wall still, and his right hand on his leg, and he waited for the sound of the door being closed and bolted. But no sound of the door came.