The shattered ribcage of a small mammal has become embedded in her palm. Blood flows around dirty little bones.

It’s an absurd thought at a time like this but she thinks: I’m going to need some high-octane antibiotics to handle that.

She shakes her hand. The ribcage falls free, clatters on stone.

Ahead of her, goblins emerge from the shadows around the burn pile and into the light of a flickering green torch. It’s then she realizes many have faces reminiscent of human babies: fat cheeks and wet mouths, big eyes, wispy hair. But there the comparison ends. These are human infants by way of a demonic coupling, ashen skin and colored eyes, rotten teeth and egg-laying tongues. As they come closer, she gets her bearings, takes a deep breath…

Skelly screams.

And then she skates.

Werth sits upstairs in the foyer while Candlefly remains downstairs with the girl. The old goat drums his fingers on his lap. They’re really making friends with Nora Pearl, now? How will Mookie react to that? Werth isn’t sure how he feels about that. He’d just gotten used to thinking, OK, regime change, it’s sink or swim, fuck or walk, play or die. And now Candlefly is making eyes at the enemy? The little shit who killed Casimir Zoladski? How does that make a single fucking mote of sense?

“Don’t worry,” Candlefly had said. “I don’t trust her. One move and she’s done.”

“And Mookie?” Werth asked. “He gets to stay? We’ll give him a chance? Because I need him. He’s good people.” He neglected to add: and you don’t want him on your bad side, cause he’ll hit you like a goddamn cannonball.

“If Mookie wants in, he can have in,” Candlefly said. “Now make the call.” Then he handed Werth the phone and…

Now he’s upstairs. Waiting. Mookie will show. He has to.

Haversham paces nearby. “They’re going to give Pearl a chance?”

“That’s what Candlefly said. He’s gonna let him try to make nice. See if we can’t… all be a big family again.”

“We’ll never be a family again. We’re just a business.” Haversham stops. Stands and stares off at nothing. “Maybe that’s how it should’ve been all along.”

“Go to hell, Haversham. The Boss treated you like he was one of his own.”

“Yes, of course, I…”

“And…” Here Werth stands, hobbles over, keeps his voice low. “And Candlefly? He’s gonna treat us like resources. Like employees. And hey, speaking of the other ‘employees’, where are the other lieutenants in all of this? You try any of them?”

“I tried calling.”

“And?”

“I’m… not getting any answers.”

“Jesus. Not a one?”

“Not a one.”

“That isn’t good, Haversham.”

“I suspect…” Haversham’s voice trails.

“You suspect they’ve been put six feet under.”

“Liquidated is the word I was going to use.”