Nye turned back to its trays of sharp-bladed tools, and Civet took one more hesitant step closer to Valkyrie. He reached out to unzip her jacket and she bared her teeth. He thought better of putting his hands anywhere near her mouth, and dropped them to waist-level, where he hesitated again. He glanced up, saw her glare, and looked away quickly. After another moment’s hesitation, he knelt, one hand on her ankle.

“If I take the manacle from around your foot so I can get at your boot,” he said, “are you going to kick me?”

“Without a doubt,” said Valkyrie.

“That’s what I thought,” Civet said miserably.

Nye came back, shoving Civet out of its way. “Leave me, you buffoon. You can strip the clothes from her corpse, as that’s all you’re good for.”

“Yes, Professor,” Civet said, bowing as he took his leave. “Sorry, Professor.”

“What are you going to do to me?” Valkyrie asked.

“Poke you,” said Nye. “Prod you. Do unpleasant things.”

“Why?”

“Because I can,” it said, reading the information on the clipboard, “and it amuses me, and you’re a curious creature. You are clearly mortal, with no aptitude for magic, and yet …”

“And yet what?”

Nye examined a nearby monitor. “And yet there is something …”

The last time Valkyrie had been strapped to a table like this, she’d had an autopsy performed on her while she was still conscious. She doubted this Nye would be any gentler. She couldn’t escape. She had no magic and her shock stick was on a table across the room. The only thing she could do was delay the inevitable, offer up distractions.

“I’ll save you some time,” Valkyrie said. “I found out my true name. My true name then took on a life of its own, and was recently separated from me.”

Nye swivelled its head towards her. “You offer this information freely?”

“I want to know what I am even more than you do. You said there was something. What is it? Is it magic?”

Nye blinked a few times. “I … I do not know, I … ah …”

Valkyrie sighed. “I get it, OK? You’re not used to the people you experiment on asking questions, but I need this to happen, so buck up, bucko. I don’t have a true name any more. My magic has left me. Can I get it back?”

“I’ve never heard of anyone being separated from their true name before,” Nye said. “It will take some time for me to come up with a hypothesis, and there – there are so many tests to run and I … I don’t, I don’t think I can do this.”

“Do what?”

It didn’t answer.

“Do the tests?”