WAIT, DO NOT ENTER, projected Jasper even as Kill-sin came into view around the half-opened office door. It’s Satyena, and she’s in trouble. It was too late. Kill-sin had already looked up—forcing Jeremiah to push the door the rest of the way open and to level his musket.
Do not fire, I say! I repeat: Satyena is in trouble.
“Well, well,” said Kill-sin at length, and exhaled. “I would say that this doesn’t make any sense ... but in fact it’s the only thing that does. And now you wait. Why?”
Jeremiah ...
A voice, not Jasper’s, sounding as though it were a million miles away.
Jeremiah ... help me. See me.
Satyena. I hear you, he projected, keeping a close eye on Kill-sin. But I cannot see you.
“Jeremiah,” crooned Kill-sin—calmly, mellifluously. “It is you, isn’t it? You have survived.”
