The grey city was still.
The fog at the horizon had thickened while they talked. Sari could see it from the corner of her eye.
“The symbol,” she said. “The snake. You said you've seen it before.”
He nodded. “Viktor uses it. On documents, on buildings.”
“That's not what I asked.”
He looked at her. His face was clearer now—the grey-blue of his eyes, the small scar on his chin.
“You asked where I've seen it before.”
“Yes.”
He was quiet for a moment. The fog pressed closer.
“Eastern Europe,” he said. “There's a region—old, poor, forgotten. Viktor has operations there too. Factories, mines. The people there are sick. The water is poison. The same pattern.”
“The same symbol?”
“The same symbol. Carved into gates, painted on walls.”
Sari stepped closer. “You said the symbol is older th
