“The cadavers dropped, one by one. And so did Firouz. He’d threatened me, so I used his soul as duct tape to paper over the crack that had opened under the gallows.”

She takes a final sip, draining her tumbler. I nod along with her, not trusting myself to speak. This is a part of my work, you see. The organization puts Mo in situations where the only way to survive is to become one of the monsters, and it’s part of my job to hold her together even when she does things that make me want to throw up.

“The Pasdaran soldiers were freaked out and scared, but I took enough from their souls that they didn’t have the wits to realize I was responsible. I can be subtle when I need to. And Ahmad, he, he got it. I explained that this power doesn’t come without a cost, and that if they began hanging people again—anywhere within the jail’s walls—there’d almost certainly be a resumption. ‘But what are we to do with the smugglers and criminals?’ he asked. Stop killing them, I suggested. He said he thought it was a good idea and he’d pass it up the line, which means he’ll write a report and they’ll ignore it.

“Then the Pasdaran sergeant decided that waiting around in a haunted execution shed with a spook and a crazy foreign woman and a lieutenant who’d just died of causes unknown was a bad idea, so they shoved us all in the back of a truck and drove me back to the airport and here I am look at me I’m not shaking I’m not mad I’m just so angry I could kill someone . . .”

11.

BOARDROOMS AND BROKERS

A LOT CAN HAPPEN IN A MONTH.

A month ago I was back in the office, recovering from the avalanche of virtual paperwork generated by the aftermath of the GOD GAME RAINBOW mess (not to mention the still-unfolding headache of the COBWEB MAZE working group and BLOODY BARON process—our very own happy fun mole hunt), trying to get a handle on my new roles and responsibilities, having Pete’s mentoring program dumped on my desk, and worrying about the doghouse Mo was making me sleep in.