The sun was just dimming into a burnt orange smear. Tomasz kicked at a bloody rag on the floor and a human servant scuttled over to clean the grisly mess. Bicycle spokes littered the ground, clotted with gore, along with several sets of pliers that were used to extract them. Who'd have thought they'd get stuck so well?
      "So, he didn't know anything." Francesca said dryly.
      "Apparently not." Tomasz shrugged with a hint of whimsy. Demetri had gathered up the bundle of ruined boy to dress and care for, leaving smears of blood around the corner and out the hall.
      "Honestly, this was just a waste of time, wasn't it? How would that kid hide some great conspiracy without us knowing?" Fran wasn't especially moved by the scene, just irritated at spending the day standing around.
      "You never know. What about that Leighton? He was once a young one too."
Fran shook her head. "If that's what happens to 'young ones,' I'd just love to see where Demy's little boy ends up in a century or so. The world will be in flames."
      "Haha, you think he'll live a century?"