Trevellian twisted his knife delicately between his fingers and smiled. 'How repulsively melodramatic. Your fumbling attempts at manipulation are like watching a child try to lie.' 

Kessler looked at him like he was a strange species of butterfly knocking against the side of the killing jar, and Sarafina felt a moment of familiarity. This woman reminded her of Regan in many ways, but where Regan seemed to have a seething cauldron of rage burning inside her, this woman was a void. There was no anger in the way she looked at Trevellian. Instead, her eyes had a cold intensity that made Sarafina feel like a weight was being pressed into her chest. 

'I know the weakness inside you, Trevellian. All of the illusions that used to cover your inadequacies were stripped bare when Regan broke you.' 

Trevellian's smile didn't waver, but he clenched his fingers around the handle of his knife. 

Kessler lifted her chin and looked down at him. 'I know the truth of your betrayal. You knew your freedom came with a price, but you took it anyway. It was an act of cowardice in line with your character.' 

Trevellian's face was drawn in the darkness. His smile was gone now. 'You talk as if your part in that was inevitable.' 

'It was up to you to leave your girl behind. She always thought you'd come back to save her, even at the end. Given what she was, her understanding of other people was surprisingly under-developed. She should have known what you were.' 

Trevellian looked like he was slowly being overtaken by a creeping, virulent disease. The colour was gone from his cheeks, and his lips were pale. 'She didn't deserve to be punished.' 

Kessler brushed a lock of white hair behind her ear and looked over her shoulder. 'There was always something about her that lacked substance. People like that don't deserve the lives they're given.' 

Sarafina followed Kessler's eyes. She could see a shape moving in the darkness of the petrol station. 

'There's someone there,' said Forester. 

Sarafina looked into the darkness and listened. She heard footsteps. They seemed slow and unsteady, like a person carrying a heavy load. She felt a cold tightening in her stomach. 

As she watched, the person in the darkness walked out from the shadows. Sarafina clamped a hand over her mouth. 

In life, he had been a man with heavy limbs and thick muscle, but now he simply looked like a corpse that had been left in a fridge and forgotten. The skin hung from his flesh like an oversized wetsuit and his lips had shrivelled back to expose his teeth. There was something wrapped in bandages growing out of his stomach that looked like a large, ungainly sports bag. 

As the man got closer, Sarafina saw the thing in bandages twitch. It turned to face her, and she realised it was a person -- the armless torso of a girl. Her entire body had been wrapped in bandages, leaving only her face exposed. 

'Oh god,' said Forester. 'I think she's alive.' 

'This is sick, Kessler,' said Trevellian. 'It's wrong.' 

The girl's head moved to follow the sound, like a plant turning to face the sun. There was a film across her eyes like frozen milk. Her empty gaze rested on Trevellian and didn't move. 

Trevellian ran his hand through his hair. 'What has she been made into? And what about him? He was dead. I saw what Regan did to him.' 

'Even when he was alive, Pyotr was little more than a collection of base instincts. Death has made the outlet for his talents more focused.' 

The living corpse moved and Sarafina saw where his arms met the girl. His hands were buried in the girl's back, as if he'd plunged them into her body and left them there. Her flesh had grown up around his wrists in a mess of tangled scar tissue and skin that made it hard to tell where her body ended and his began. 

Next to Sarafina, Trevellian retched and bit the back of his hand. 'Jordan would have done what you wanted. All you had to do was ask.' 

'Your approach was always too indirect, Trevellian. Tools shouldn't have a say in how they're used. You expended too much energy trying to get her to like you.' 

'What kind of craft could make these things?' said Bennet. 

Trevellian looked away. 'You don't understand people, Kessler. If she'd been alive, perhaps you would have had a hold on me, but they're just empty shells now. It doesn't matter if they're moving somehow; they're both dead.' 

'Not entirely dead. I understand you better than you think, infiltrator. She can still feel pain.' 

Sarafina saw the living corpse's fingers move under the girl's flesh. They writhed beneath her skin like a nest of worms, and she started to contort and strain against the bandages around her. She gasped, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. 

As the girl's mouth opened, Sarafina started to feel like swarms of ants were crawling over her body. She rubbed her hands on her face, but the feeling wouldn't go away. She looked at the girl. 'What's happening?' 

'My skin feels strange,' said Forester. 

'It's her,' said Bennet. 'She's doing something to us.' 

Sarafina began to itch, as if there was something burrowing under her skin. She started to scratch, but the itching became worse. After a few moments, she looked at her arm and realised she'd drawn blood. As the feeling began to become unbearable, she looked across at the others and saw Bennet scratching at her neck as if she was trying to peel the skin away. 

The itching spread under Sarafina's skin and into her brain, like the tendrils of a fungus. She dug her fingers into her skull. Her brain was itching. The feeling intensified until it felt like it was buzzing in her mind. Words began to rise as if she'd thought them herself, but the voice belonged to someone else. 

'You never came for me. Did you ever love me? Did you ever even notice me? Did you ever think about me the way I thought about you?' 

Sarafina clenched her teeth together fought back the bitter taste of bile that rose in the back of her throat. 'I don't know what you're talking about.' 

'You never spoke to me unless you wanted something. I just wanted you to smile at me. I just wanted to be near you.' 

Sarafina concentrated on breathing deeply. The voice was a constant stream in her head, but she could feel her own thoughts running beneath it. She focused on pulling her thoughts to the surface. 

'I saw the way you looked at me. Was that a lie? Were you just using me? Did I matter at all to you? Was I garbage to you?' 

With concentration, Sarafina felt herself regaining control. The voice started to fade, but she could still hear the echoes in the back of her mind. She looked up and realised that she had been digging her fingernails into the palms of her hands. 

She could hear screaming. 

She looked across at Trevellian. His arms were folded across his stomach, and he was letting out a scream that seemed to well up from his gut. There were red furrows running down his cheeks where he had scoured his face with his fingers. Sarafina realised that the words she had been hearing were an echo of the ones in Trevellian's head. 

The bandaged girl still twitched and shuddered as the man twisted his hands inside her back. With every movement, Trevellian's screams seemed to intensify. 

Bennet and Forester looked like they were recovering now. It was as if the bandaged girl's focus had started on all of them, but was narrowing onto Trevellian. 

Sarafina still felt like her head was full of cotton wool, but she reached into a pouch on her belt and withdrew an extendible aluminium baton. She flicked it out with a snap. 

Kessler watched her with the indifferent expression of a falcon watching a field-mouse. She made no move to draw her sword. The spider-like conjoined creature was skittering from side to side like an insect on a hotplate. Sarafina tried to keep them both in her field of vision. Next to her, she heard Forester draw his sword. 

'You're about a million years too early to face me,' said Kessler. 'The only reason you're still alive is to tell me where Regan is.' 

'Are you supposed to be Regan's teacher or something?' said Bennet. 

Kessler's brow creased. She looked at Bennet like she was a smear of grease on the concrete. 

Bennet ignored her. 'You talk like her. You have the same snooty attitude. You can drop it. It didn't intimidate me when she did it, and it sure as hell won't work for you either.' 

'The fact that Regan didn't kill you instantly is a sign of her weakness.' 

Bennet lifted her spear and pointed it at Kessler. 'Don't shrug us off so easily. Silverwater isn't a pushover.' 

Kessler gripped the handle of her sword. 'I hadn't intended to kill you yet. I had intended to find out about Regan, but perhaps I was allowing myself to be impatient. Over time, she will come to me.' 

The sound of Kessler drawing her sword was like silk. Sarafina watched the moonlight slide along the blade as it came free of the sheath. 

'That leaves me without a use for you.' 

'I don't intend to go that easily,' said Bennet. 'If you want my life, you're going to have to pay in blood.' 

'Your intentions make no difference,' said Kessler. 'I'm going to show you the unassailable heights you've tried to challenge.'