One deep cut looped from the corner of her left eye to the corner of her mouth. It had been stitched with dozens of tiny stitches, but the resulting scar would tug the corner of Doll Girl’s mouth up into an unnatural grin forever. Her other cheek bore a broad X-shaped cut, which was matched again by a smaller X across her lips in front. Eating, smiling, frowning—moving her mouth at all must have been excruciating. One of her eyes was still swollen, and Azoth wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to see out of it again. The rest of the wounds looked like they would fade. A scab on her forehead, the barest yellow around her other eye as the black faded, and a nose that must have been reset because Azoth was sure Rat had broken it.

All in all, her face was, and was supposed to be, a testament to cruelty. Rat wanted anyone who ever looked at Doll Girl to know that she hadn’t just had an accident. He wanted everyone to know that this had been done deliberately. For a moment, Azoth wished Rat’s death had been even more horrible.

Then time seemed to start again. He was staring at Doll Girl, staring at his friend’s face with open horror. Her eyes, that had been so full of surprise and sudden hope, brimmed full with tears. She covered herself and turned away, crying silently, her thin shoulders shaking.

He sat next to her. “I came as soon as I could. I’ve got a master now and I had to disobey him just to be here, but I couldn’t leave you here. Things have been bad, huh?” She started sobbing.

He could just imagine the names they must have called her. Sometimes he wanted to kill everyone in the Warrens. How could they make fun of Doll Girl? How could they hurt her? It was a miracle she was still alive. A miracle, and Jarl. Jarl must have risked his life a dozen times.

Azoth scooted over and pulled her close. She turned and clung to him as if her tears would wash her away. He held her and cried.

Time passed. Azoth felt like he’d been squeezed dry. He wasn’t sure how long he’d held her, but he knew it had been too long. “I have good news,” he told her.

She looked up at him with those big brown eyes.

“Come with me,” he said.

Doll Girl followed him out of the Warrens, over the Vanden Bridge, and to Count Drake’s. Her eyes widened as they headed toward the count’s house, and further when the old porter opened the door for Azoth and showed them in.

Count Drake was in his office. He rose and ushered them in, somehow not even registering surprise at how awful Doll Girl’s face looked. He was a better person than Azoth.