, Liverpool, London and Prescot. Come. A lucky escape. The bridge was open. Rhea’s head exploded into a spray of blood, brain, and bone. She thought of them as fools, but had been sorry to see them go. “I see nothing of my sister,” she said. Gosse had moved forward, his pistol arm out straight, his aim true, the gun cocked. The slim knife was wrested from her grasp, and she was flung backwards, towards the bookcases. Over one of the pinnacles of the tower a speck of pallid light marked the position of the moon, then newly born and newly risen. So was I, in fact.
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