Fullbrite's father had offered him a chair, but Crocken had declined to sit in it.

Fullbrite cowered on the middle of a floral-patterned sofa. Her knees were tucked up against her chest, and her right hand, the one with the bandages, was clenched by her heart. Her maskless face seemed full of anger and determination, but did not make eye contact..

Crocken held two axes, one in each hand. His own, and Fullbrite's.

"Yes, it...