He crept forward. “So?”
“So I don’t remember.” He frowned. “But I wouldn’t harm a child.”
Bren grinned, as if he thought it all a joke, and went back to the wall. A scraping sound followed. “This one says ‘down with the Shields’ and has no name. I wonder how many people have been here before us, eh Notch?”
“Maybe just you, Bren,” he muttered, rubbing at his temples.
Bren prattled on. “I could deal with the Mascare too, you know. They aren’t so powerful. It’s just their precious bone masks. And their robes. All that crimson. They scare people, the faces. And the eyes too. Did you ever meet any, Notch, before you murdered that girl?”
He ignored the last bit. “I’ve seen the Mascare plenty of times.”
“And were they protecting ‘the city, the people and its history’ as they love to claim?”
