Still a brother resonated in Ghastly's ears long after the reassurance that Darquesse had been dealt with. Did murder erase three hundred and some-odd years of companionship-- did those three hundred years just make the murder all that much worse-- could their history speak to forgiveness?

It felt like far, far too much all at once. Even the realization that China, too, was in this city and had been playing her typical mind games with Anton-- it paled beside the magnitude of everything else, though it needed to be dealt with just like the rest.

Ghastly felt un-grounded, adrift, like the world beneath his feet might spin on without him, and he put a hand out to steady himself on the nearest wall. He really should have actually sat down when they came into the office.