Rook

and Myfanwy felt him dying. All the delicate systems that the Grafters had stitched into him were failing, the fragile balance destroyed completely.
Not yet,
she thought. Under her command, his heart kept beating, and his legs held him up. His tongue, with all its fibers, retracted into his mouth, but their lips were still locked.
Don’t want to give the game away just yet
.
    First things first.
    The little girl raised her gun and, against her will, fired at the Gestalt siblings. Alex was hit in the shoulder and fell to the floor with a startled cry; Eliza was struck in the head and neck, and she stumbled back against the glass. Cracks spiderwebbed out around her, and then she was gone, falling back through the glass and into the night. A low horrible wail rose up from her brother, who was flailing on the ground.
    The little girl was staring stupidly at the gun in her hand when Gestalt’s remaining free body, screaming with rage, clawed his wayup the desk. He drew a gun and emptied the clip into the little girl. She crumpled to the ground. Gestalt scrabbled weakly at the desk but seemed to be going into shock and fell back. Myfanwy made sure he couldn’t stand up, and then turned her attention to the next matter at hand.
    Okay, now you can die,
she thought, and let Norman’s heart stop beating.
    “Oh,” she sighed, and there was a hint of a moan in that sound as the body of Norman fell away from her. She rubbed the back of her hand against her mouth, and it came away with traces of blood. She could feel the skin around her eyes swelling and bruising.
This is familiar,
she thought wearily, and leaned against Grantchester’s desk, gasping.
    “You bitch” came a despairing voice, and Myfanwy looked around at the floor behind the desk.
    “Oh, hey, Gestalt,” she said wearily.
    “You fucking bitch—do you realize what you’ve done?” he asked. “She was the only one who could bear a new child, and now I’ll die.”
    “What?” she asked, dully, taking deep breaths.
    “I can’t get any new bodies! For a new child to be part of me, both parents have to be my bodies, and now…” He started to weep brokenly. “Now, the only body that could carry a child is dead, and I’m going to
die!
” Myfanwy stared at him in horror at the implications of Gestalt’s words. Her eyes fell to a Grantchester family photo on the desk. It had been bad enough knowing that the blond baby held Gestalt’s mind, but that it was a product of incest, with one mind forming both parents and the new child—her stomach turned at the thought.
My God, Gestalt could have been immortal—an army.
She stared down at the weeping, bleeding individual on the floor and didn’t know what to feel.
    I’ll have to bring the baby in and let the Court decide what to do with it. And Gestalt doesn’t know about the amnesia… But fuck! Grantchester!
She picked up Norman’s gun and eyed the portraits before picking up the phone to call for help.
    “Myfanwy” came Grantchester’s voice over the line.
    “Conrad,” she breathed.
    “I was watching on the camera,” said the Bishop. “I’m very impressed—you are clearly far more capable than your predecessor. I don’t suppose you would care to join me?” His effrontery took her breath away, and Myfanwy didn’t trust herself to reply. “No? Well, I suppose I should have expected that. But in any case, it is evident that I have been beaten in this particular battle. Accordingly, I am withdrawing from the Apex and heading for a slightly more relaxing clime. I made plans for such a possibility long ago.”
Looks like Thomas wasn’t the only one who liked to be prepared,
thought Myfanwy.
    “But rest assured, Rook Myfanwy Thomas or whoever you think you are”—and here his voice became hard—“I have spent years within the Checquy paving the way for the coming of the Grafters. They will come, and they will triumph, and then you and I shall have words.” There was a click at the other end of the line, and he was gone.
    Myfanwy put the phone down with weak fingers. In a minute, she would alert security and have Gestalt (or what remained of Gestalt) arrested. She would find out how Eckhart’s raid had gone, and summon the Court to hear what had happened. She would check on Bronwyn, and call Shantay with the news. And she would mourn for Ingrid and Li’l Pawn Alan.
    She would do all those things, but first she needed a minute to collect the thoughts she’d come so close to