Chapter 4

It’s a hidden up the of men, Magic – Blacks’ Magic, Salt-N-Pepa

Le Havre, February 23^rd

“Merde!” Sophie snapped, as much at herself as anyone else, as Caerys and Gabriel slumped to the floor. Pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to calm down with a few deep breaths, she started slightly at the sound of more claws on the floor nearby and turned a quick circle trying to find some inspiration from somewhere.

Around the corner came another of the lean figures, slower than the last waving her two blades slowly before her, and Sophie reached down to try to grasp Light from where it had slid from Gabriel’s grasp. Her hand knocked against the shaft, pushing it away from her, and as she glanced down to try and locate it again, the creature sprang.

A single gunshot rang out from behind her, startlingly loud in the flat-walled corridor, and the daemonette fell short with a bullet through her cheek, a spray of blood trailing down the corridor behind her. Sophie looked over her shoulder to see Ramage lowering a rifle to his side, not releasing the grip.

“Get them up.” he told her, gently, but the sound of the gunshot had already roused Gabriel who reached out to grasp Light as his first action. When Sophie turned back, Ramage had gone so she reached instead to rest a hand on Caerys’ cheek and bring her round.

“Sorry.” she whispered, as Caerys’ eyes fluttered open.

“No apology for me?” Gabriel muttered, looking from the gunshot wound toward the corner where Ramage had been standing. “Any idea who our friendly neighbourhood gunman was?” Sophie took a breath to steady herself, and helped Caerys to her feet.

“I am going to get Christophe,” she told him - and Caerys. “You may come if you wish, or you can go where you want.”

“I’m not abandoning him,” Gabriel said, obviously trying to calm himself. “I want to go back, Giselle is down there.” She turned, and was shocked at the conflict in his usually stoic expression “They were heading this way, though, they were ignoring the creche entirely. Something up here is attracting them, either us or something else - maybe our gunman.” He was obviously trying to resolve the question as he spoke.

“The best we can do is get away from them in case it’s us they’re after, but I think they’re trying to get past us to something else.”

“What?” Caerys asked, resting a comforting hand on Sophie’s arm for a moment. “You think there’s something here that’s ... what would they be after?” Caerys looked at Gabriel, but Sophie knew the question was aimed at her.

“Which way were they headed?” she asked, quietly, but Gabriel didn’t answer as he glanced around the corner with Light swinging attacking some unseen threat. Caerys just shrugged as Gabriel backed into view, looking past them as much as at them.

“Far side of this building, I think,” he managed. “Maybe this floor, maybe the floor above.”

“My office is over there,” Sophie admitted.

“You have anyth ... Camael’s knife?” Sophie shook her head, conscious of the blade strapped inside her thigh once more.

“It’s somewhere safe, not in my office.”

“Hang on,” Caerys muttered, reaching into her bag and drawing out her tarot pack. She drew a card hurriedly, flipped it over to show a traveller with a bindle. “The Fool.”

“Us?” Gabriel snorted. “Or our gunman, maybe.”

“The Fool is ... innocence, spontaneity, beginnings, or if it’s reversed it’s recklessness, naivety...”

“Beginnings.” Sophie interrupted. “I have a sample of something, a drug maybe, something that’s part of the process of turning women into those.” she pointed to the dead daemonette on the floor.

“In your office?” Caerys asked, and Sophie nodded.

“Describe the layout,” Gabriel shouldered the glaive, and stepped past them to lead off. “And think about who knows that you have it.” She thought about it, but she was fairly certain no-one had seen her take it, and she’d not been able to pass it on to anyone or decide who to talk to about having it analysed.

“No-one ... my office is in the middle of the corridor, it faces in towards the centre of the building so there are no windows. There’s a desk in the middle, a chair next to the door...”

“Where’s this sample?” He paused at the corner, raising a hand to ward them back, then beckoned them forward. Sophie took two steps then stopped to pull off her low-heeled shoes, quietening her step. Gabriel gave her an approving nod, and she felt another sharp spike of irritation.

“In the desk drawer ... it’s in a sealed sample bag, they shouldn’t be able to smell it or...”

“Probably magic.” Caerys muttered, rifling through her own bag, apparently less concerned about making noise than Sophie was. Gabriel gave her an intense look which she pointedly ignored, and he led off again, round the next corner, towards the sound of scraping claws. Now in just her stockinged feet Sophie could feel the grooves in the thin carpet tiles where they’d been, and slowed her approach, reaching below her skirt for the handle of Camael’s dagger.

Caerys laid a hand on her arm, and she jumped slightly, her grip tightening painfully around the handle of the knife, but Caerys just pushed it gently down, shaking her head and pointing towards Gabriel, her meaning clear: leave it him. It took a moment for Sophie to realise that it wasn’t just Caerys being cautious, suddenly, all the sounds had stopped.

Gabriel leapt, silently, around the next corner aleady swinging, and by the time Caerys pulled Sophie after her to follow, three of the daemonettes were down; Sophie pulled out of Caerys grasp, bending down next to the two nearest. One was dead already, a bloody gaping wound through her spine at the back of the neck, but the second was still alive, although bleeding heavily from where one of her legs was missing. Letting go of the first and reaching for a third, she felt the pain, the ravaged flesh, the faint heartbeats, and let the power flow through ... the knife was gone, abandoned on the floor. Sophie closed her eyes to stifle the fear, reminded again that whilst the knife fed the power, the power was hers now.

By the time she’d processed that the two fallen women were stabilised and unconscious, although she’d not time to heal them completely. The other two fell quickly, another of them dead, and Sophie stepped in to ensure the last didn’t follow.

“What are you doing?” Gabriel whispered, harshly, pulling her through the door into the office.

“Trying to prevent any more deaths.” she pointed out, wiping tears away from her face that she’d not realised she’d been shedding. “What are you thinking, they aren’t threatening us, they weren’t even coming for us, we could have run away and left them to get whatever it is they’re after.”

“Quick, Soph,” Caerys interrupted, stepping between them before Gabriel could respond, “where’s this sample?”

“Here,” Sophie stepped around them both, pulling open one of the drawers and reaching in to pull out the clear sample bag in which her glove was sealed. Caerys studied it a moment, pulling another surgical glove from a box on the nearby shelf, and then held them both up at eye level. Muttering something quietly under her breath she laid them both on the desk and traced her finger over the new glove, leaving a slight shimmering trail for a moment as Gabriel eyed the corridor where the sounds of more clawed footsteps could be heard.

“Here.” Caerys called, balling up the glove and tossing it to Gabriel who threw it down the corridor. Caerys, meanwhile, dropped the sample back into an elaborately embroidered pouch and pulled the drawstring at the top tight. “Hopefully that’ll do it, close the door.”

Gabriel looked sceptical, but pulled the door shut and ushered them the other side of the desk. The claws scrabbled past the door, breaking into a run which cut off abruptly. All fell silent for a moment, and then the footsteps started again, disappearing quickly punctuated by the sound of a window somewhere breaking. Minutes passed silently before Gabriel eased the door ajar, eyed down the corridor then stepped out. The balled up glove and the fallen figures were gone, with only the pooled blood left to show for it.

“Clear!” he called, quietly, and immediately set off down the corridor. Sophie dashed after him, pausing to slip her shoes back on, and Caerys followed after them, tucking the pouch into her bag.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To get Christophe.” Sophie explained, trying to push past Gabriel, but he held an arm out for a moment before gently gesturing towards them.

“Please,” his tone was softer, quieter, and he didn’t turn to look at them. “that’s where I’m headed, but there may be more of them.”

“You can’t just...” Sophie began, but he cut her off, softly.

“I’m not ... only if they’re coming for us.” He pointed to Caerys, still without turning. “She has the sample now, if they catch wind of it we will be the target.”

“They won’t,” Caerys assured them both, sparing a tight smile for Sophie. “I made this for you to keep Camael’s knife in, it’s made to hide a small magical signature more powerful than what was coming off that glove.”

“Thank you,” Sophie finally whispered, looking at the knife Caerys had nodded at, not recalling when it was she’d picked it back up.

“Come on.” Gabriel led off again, and they followed in silence as he paused at each corner and crossing, but they didn’t come across any more of the things.

As they approached the doors of the creche they could hear a quiet sobbing from inside, children’s voices protesting quietly and fraught adults trying to quieten them. Gabriel rapped his knuckles on the door which silenced the space beyond.

“C’est moi,” he explained, quietly, “le gars avec la femme en fauteuil roulant.” The door cracked open, and he stepped aside to let Caerys and Sophie enter first. Christophe dashed forward to wrap his arms around her leg, and Gabriel stepped to the side to where a slumped figure lolled in a wheelchair, but Sophie followed the creche assistant’s gaze to the far corner of the room.

“Nice knife, Dr Barthez,” Ramage offered, stepping forward and overtly tucking the pistol back into the holster beneath his armpit.

“Your mystery gunman?” Gabriel asked, standing tensely. Sophie nodded, surprised to see tear-tracks on his face, but focussing on Ramage.

“I presume they were headed for your office? What were they after?”

“A sample I took from the body in Ouistrehave,” she explained. “We threw it out to distract them, and they left with it.”

“And their dead and wounded.” Gabriel added. Ramage turned to look at him, a wry smile on his face. “The gentlemen who killed Admiral Donner, I presume?”

“That was me, actually.” Caerys interrupted, stepping away to Sophie’s right a little, spreading the three of them in a loose arc. Ramage raised his arms and took a step back.

“I’m not your enemy, here,” he assured them.

“You’ve not exactly been our friend,” Sophie pointed out. “Until today ... thank you, for your assistance.” He nodded, still keeping his hands out wide and open.

“Sophie,” Gabriel called her, and she turned her attention away from Ramage again. “Can you help her?”

Gabriel turned the wheelchair around, and Sophie understood the tear-tracks; the woman slumped in the chair, drooling down her own dress, was slumped limply over to one side. There was enough muscle tone and control to hold herself up, but not enough control to maintain balance, and no apparent awareness of the surroundings. Forgetting Ramage, forgetting the daemonettes, she leant over Giselle, testing a few automatic responses were working.

“What happened?”

“She came back like this,” he explained. “On the other side she was ... her. Tired, perhaps, but her. Awake, talking, moving ... the moment we came back she was like this.”

“Back from where?” Ramage interjected, and Caerys warded him back.

“None of your business,” she told him, not threateningly but firmly.

“It’s almost like an extended absence seizure,” Sophie muttered, half to herself. There were any number of tests she could run, but that would require time and putting Giselle onto their system at least in some capacity, which she didn’t think Gabriel would want.

“Can you fix it?” Gabriel almost pleaded.

“Use the Shifter’s Knife.” Ramage said, pre-emptively holding his arms out as Caerys advanced on him.

“You know?” Sophie didn’t look, realising that she wasn’t interested in the answer. Or, rather, that if he was referring to it, he already knew the answer. Or thought he did.

Reaching out with the knife she laid the flat of the bottom of the handle on the crown of Giselle’s head and reached through it, seeking answers. Physically she was weak; undernourished, signs of exhaustion and a few minor injuries probably as a result of being manhandled by Gabriel. It was a matter of moments to repair the damage, it didn’t seem to need to be raised with him.

Moving her awareness up, she probed the brain structure, finding nothing physical out of place, just a range of areas where the activity was constant, level, a background noise where there should be the hustle and bustle of neurons firing off and quietening in response to each other, to stimuli from the nerves. Acting out of desperation as much as anything else, Sophie calmed them all, flattened the noise out until nothing was active, feeling the muscle tone holding Giselle up start to fade away as she slumped further.

Reaching down further into the brain, into the brain-stem, she nudged the primitive emotion centre, where the most powerful instincts originated, and with a gasped intake of breath, Giselle’s eyes widened and flashed around the room, settling after a moment on Gabriel’s quivering jaw.

“You damned fool...” she whispered, trying to reach up and brush his cheek as he buried his head in her lap and wept.

Le Havre, February 23^rd

“I just need to know how you got in touch with them?” Ramage explained, not quite pinning Sophie into the corner. Christophe clung to her leg, eyeing the suited man warily.

“And she told you that she didn’t.” Caerys muttered, an inch from his ear, getting the slightly startled flinch she’d hoped for. “It’s not like Sophie made a secret of where she worked, after all.”

“And you just happened to come visit as these things turned up?” Caerys looked out the door at the scratches in the carpet.

“Looks like,” she nodded.

“Convenient, wouldn’t you say?”

“Fucking annoying, I’d say.”

“S’il vous plait, il y a des enfant ici!” the creche attendant called at them.

“Enfants,” Caerys muttered to herself. “Children?” Sophie and Christophe both nodded. “Oh, there are ... the language, right.” She turned to raise an apologetic hand to the attendant, with a quiet “Sorry!” Ramage took the opportunity to step sideways slightly, repositioning himself so that Caerys and Sophie were both half-constrained to the corner.

“You expect me to believe that your arrival and their arrival are not related?” Sophie started to answer, but Caerys laid a hand on her arm.

“Why don’t you go and help Giselle,” she pointed to where Gabriel sat back against the wall, cradling the sleeping woman’s head in his lap. Sophie used the arm as a barrier, keeping it between her and Ramage, and slipped out, and as Ramage made to follow, Caerys stepped in front of him, pinning him into the corner. “I don’t expect anything,” she clarified for him. “I don’t care what you think, I gave up caring what anyone else thought a long time ago. It wasn’t planned, whether you care to believe that or not. Now go away.”

“Miss?”

“That’ll do.”

“I see. I have responsibilities, it’s my job to investigate what’s going on here, this isn’t personal.”

“I don’t care,” she shrugged, which was not a response it appeared Ramage had been expecting. “Who do you work for?”

“It’s a pan-European task force operating...”

“Boring.” He appeared confused, and Caerys traced a quick rune in front of him. “Who do you really work for?”

“As I was saying, we’re a group operating under the Council of Europe’s...”

“Oh,” she interrupted again, “that was what you really believe? Wow. OK.” she turned away to walk over to where Sophie was sat, and Ramage reached a hand out to tug at her arm. Before she could finish turning to tell him off, Gabriel’s hand clamped under his jaw and hoisted him off his feet against the wall in the corner.

“G-Man, it’s OK.” she assured him.

“G-Man?” He turned a faintly offended look her way.

“You want him to know your name?” He acknowledged the intent with a nod.

“Ok ... but ‘G-Man’? You know that’s the FBI, right?”

“I was thinking more of the guy out of ‘Half-Life’.”

“Film?”

“Video game.”

“Ah, not my thing.”

“Are you going to let him go so that he can speak?” She nodded towards Ramage who was attempting to maintain his composure. It was apparent he could breathe, if restricted, but the contemptuous ease with which Gabriel was holding him against the wall had rattled him.

“Fine.” The control in slowly lowering Ramage to his feet was obviously more discomforting than merely dropping him the foot or so, but she was impressed to see him take it in his stride, straightening his tie as he gathered his thoughts.

“Not your first time at this, is it?” she asked, taking him off-guard again.

“He was smart enough not to struggle.” Gabriel noted. “FN Five-Seven in the holster is a fairly standard NATO issue handgun, but the holster looks like it’s sized for an HK45, which suggests they’re low down the food chain and scrabbling for whatever resources they can get at the time.”

“There’s working for the man, and then there’s working for the man?” Caerys asked, as much at Ramage as Gabriel.

“I think you misunderstand, I’m not here to answer your questions.” Ramage began, and Gabriel just snorted his amusement as he casually folded his arms.

“I think you’re dreaming if you think we’re going to answer yours.” Caerys explained.

“I am a representative of the designated European authority on...”

“I’m not European.” She interrupted, looking to Gabriel.

“Officially, I’m dead.” he deadpanned.

“We don’t care.” She summarised, and they turned and walked away.

“Was that wise?” she wondered.

“We have a name, he’s not going to be hard to find if we need to get in touch,” Gabriel assured her. “Let’s do that on our terms if we need to.”

“Maybe he really can help?”

“Maybe. Help usually comes with a price.”

“Did your help come with a price?” She joked, and he pointed at first Ramage, then the scratches out in the corridor.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe that would have happened anyway.” He shrugged, and she studied him a moment, something about his stance cluing her in that he was uncomfortable in a different way to the usual. “You don’t seem yourself, this must have all shaken your world up a bit.”

“Could you take a look?” he asked, nodding towards Giselle.

“At Giselle? Sophie’s the doctor, what can I...”

“This isn’t ... it’s ... is it just medical? She was there, but she was fading, and there was nothing for her to come back to, but you were right. When I pulled her through ... she was there.”

“Ok, sure, but I’m not sure what to even look for.” She was more worried about him. He was rattled, understandably, but his usual laser-focuse appeared to have been dented. She realised, as much as she didn’t like it, that she’d taken confidence from that solidity; it might not be gone forever, but it wasn’t there right now.

Sophie stood as they approached, tousling Christophe’s hair as she did, and turned to face them, stepping away from Giselle a little. Behind her, Christophe pulled the blanket a little higher up under Giselle’s chin, and got a smile and a nod from Caerys for his work.

“Everything seems fine, as far as I can tell,” she whispered, sparing Gabriel a tight smile. “She’s... sous-alimentee... ”

“Malnourished?” Gabriel offered.

“No, not the wrong food, just not enough.”

“Undernourished ... I’ve been trying,” he assured her, “she’d swallow but...” Sophie grasped his hands.

“I know.” Sophie tried to reassure him She’s fine, really. She’ll sleep, she’ll eat, she’ll be back on her feet.” Caerys took the opportunity to stare past them, letting her gaze shift as her talent bled in, filtering the images with auras and for a brief moment a stream of flickering images.

She blinked, and Giselle’s eyes were open, staring at her intently. The aura settled, a sickly brown, seeming somehow oily, but buried under the surface of it a pale cerulean blue flickering in a thin shell around her.

“Caerys?” She shook her head as Sophie stepped between them.

“Sorry, Soph, I was ... doesn’t matter. Did you say something to me?”

“I asked if you were well?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She nodded. “Just ... checking out the new girl.” she nodded. Giselle was still awake, although she looked weak, and Gabriel was once more nestled down next to her, with Christophe alongside.

“Did you see anything?”

“Afterimages, I think,” Caerys shrugged, uncertain. She’d unlocked more of the powers, had learnt more about what to look for and how to look for it, but she knew she still lacked the experience to interpret what she was seeing reliably. “There’s a ... the best thing I can think to call it is a stain, a taint on her aura. Under it, though, there’s something bright and clean.”

“Hmm.”

“You? I heard what you said to him, but ... is she OK?”

“I don’t know,” Sophie admitted, after a moment, pulling Caerys away a little. “I’m not sure what I did, exactly ... she was ... she wasn’t there. Her brain was white noise, just everything on a full volume. What I did ... it felt right, but nothing in my study of neurology explains how it worked.”

“But it did?”

“It seems so.”

“You don’t trust it?”

“It doesn’t seem like you do, either?”

“I’m not sure ... there’s that stain ... I’ll keep an eye on it.”

“How will you tell him?”

“I’m hoping I don’t have to.”

“Dr Barthez?” They both turned to look at Ramage as he approached them, phone in hand; Caerys noted the tell-tale trace of a concealment charm flickering over the surface, but couldn’t quite focus on it as Ramage gesticulated gently with it. Sophie merely arched an eyebrow at him. “I’ve been in contact with my superiors, and I’ve been instructed to ask - I stress, ask - if you’d like to meet with us formally and consider co-operating on this operation.”

“What operation?” Sophie asked, dismissively.

“Just her?” Caerys wondered, aloud, and Sophie flicked a glance her way in understanding.

“It does seem a sudden change of tactic, doesn’t it.” She realised, turning back to Ramage. “Just me?”

“I have been authorised to have discussions with your ... associates?”

“Nice phone.” Caerys derailed his train of thought, nodding at it. “I presume the concealment charm is to prevent anyone hacking the signal rather than to hide the actual handset.”

Ramage simply stared at her a moment, then hurriedly put the phone away in an inside pocket.

“But then the jacket has a glamour to hide the charm ... oh, that’s nice...” She leant forward, and he edged away slightly, but Gabriel was behind him. “Is it ... I can’t see anything on the outside, it must be in the lining ... it’s nice work. Makes me wonder what else is hidden away in there.”

“Should I find out?” Gabriel asked, and Ramage began to find he still had some sort of spine.

“I have a few bits and pieces of standard kit, nothing I suspect that would rival your own belongings. I’ve extended my agency’s offer, Dr Barthez already has my card unless you’d like another,” they all demurred, “in which case I shall be on my way. I’ll just say we aren’t your enemy, I don’t think. I don’t know your history, I don’t know how you figure in to everything that’s going on, but you’ve been at odds with both Admiral Donner’s creations and the American, Michaeleson, in the past and now with these new creatures. So have we. I think we may be able to help each other, or at least learn enough to keep out of each other’s way to avoid any unfortunate cross-fire - that’s not a threat, at least it’s not meant as one. We are behind on this - a long way behind, and with so little information and so much to try and catch up on there are going to be mistakes. I genuinely would not like you to suffer because of one of them.”

“You know, that actually sounded sincere,” Caerys nodded.

“Was it? Gabriel asked, and Ramage just shook his head, gently with a wry smile for the cynicism.

“I actually think it was, I’ll check later.” She tapped her bag where her Tarot pack rested; whether he understood or not Gabriel nodded his acceptance and stepped aside to let Ramage past.

“Please, consider the invitation.” he offered, then headed on his way.

Le Havre, February 24^th

Gabriel leant against the pillar in the hospital room, watching the sun-rise over the harbour. Giselle’s even, slow breathing behind him was reassuring, even if the occasional quiet noise of the various monitoring equipment wasn’t. Slumped in the visitor’s chair on the other side of the bed, Caerys slept as soundly as Giselle. Trickling his power out, Gabriel silenced the noise of his shoes on the linoleum flooring and stepped to the door again. A quick check each way up the corridor and he slipped out for a loop of the floor, patrolling for signs of trouble.

Two thirds of the way round he heard the lift doors opening and picked up his pace to round the corner as Sophie and Christophe emerged.

“You’re up early,” he noted, quietly, but still startling them. “Sorry.”

“I thought you’d be keeping an eye on Giselle.” Sophie nodded towards the private room.

“I am.”

“Patrolling for danger?” He nodded, coming alongside them. “Do you think they’ll come back?”

“Them. Ramage. Who knows who else is out there.” Sophie wrapped her coat tighter around herself and ushered the bleary-eyed boy ahead of her. Gabriel held her shoulder as they rounded the corner, spying the door open, and sprinted ahead just as Caerys emerged from the room opposite.

“Little girl’s room...” she pointed, by way of explanation, and Gabriel just gave her a flat glance as he slipped through the door to check. “Paranoid much?”

“Given everything that’s happened, do you blame him?” Sophie asked, letting Christophe follow him into the room.

“Guess not.” Caerys shrugged, running her hands through her hair to pull the worst of the knots out. “Wouldn’t hurt him to be paranoid politely, though.”

“That was polite,” Sophie suggested with a slight smile. “He didn’t stab you.” Caerys laughed, quietly, and pushed the door open further to see Gabriel and Christophe sat side-by-side watching the bed intently.

“Did the identities work, then?” Sophie asked, hanging her coat on the back of the door and her beret alongside it.

“Seems like it,” Caerys shrugged. “Booking in didn’t seem to throw anything up.”

“Good.”

“Got me thinking, actually,” Caerys pulled her back a little. “Seeing as you now have a patient, and someone with deep pockets who might not object to paying for them, you might be able to order your tests on that sample.”

“Maybe,” Sophie agreed, “but how would we get them out of that pouch you have them in without attracting another horde of daemonettes?”

“I can probably ward the laboratory if you let me know which one it is, wouldn’t take more than a few hours.”

“Are we interested?”

“Yes,” Gabriel answered quietly but firmly. “At least, I am. I’ll understand if you’re not.”

“Why?” Sophie asked, a fraction before Caerys could.

“I’m not sure you’ll want to know,” he looked away from Giselle briefly to glance at them. “But I think you deserve to. You might want to take a seat.” Caerys settled into the hard-seated chair the nurses used when taking records or sorting medicines, whilst Sophie lifted Christophe and sat him in her lap as she took the chair next to Gabriel.

“Go on,” she told him. He gnawed at the inside of his cheek gently for a moment, trying to decide how best to phrase it, but nothing he could come up with was going to soften the blow.

“Camael’s alive.” Christophe shifted as Sophie tensed, and she forced herself to relax, patting his arms gently to settle him.

“Are you sure?” she asked, voice trembling slightly.

“Pretty sure.” He nodded. “I mean ... when I was in the Ukraine, getting Giselle out, Roffmai was there. I’m not sure if he was tracking them, or herding them, or in charge, but I’m sure it was him.”

“And so far as we know, he was Camael.” Caerys added.

“But he died.” Sophie tried to hold back the tears. “He ... I... “ She lifted her hands to cover Christophe’s ears. “I killed him. You saw what that knife did to him.”

“To that body,” Caerys pointed out, as Christophe started to fret, and Sophie took her hands away. “We know that he can move between bodies, somehow.”