The Groznyj Grad Living Novel

Polya furrowed his brow, confused.

"You sound like you want him to get caught. I would have thought you'd be kindred spirits."

It was blunt, but without malice, like a bat swung idly from hand to hand.

"I'd think you wouldn't mind seeing me dead, either."

The villain's sudden concern surprised him almost as much as getting an answer. Unease laid its hand at the small of Polya's back.

Rakitin looked up at the stars, watching them watch him.

"You know," he mentioned, "for a while, I would have killed you, if I got the chance. I wouldn't have given it an instant's hesitation."

As he returned his eyes to Deimos, something caught the light. Metallic, circular. A shape like a bird in bas-relief. An eagle, maybe.

"What's that?" Polya said, forgetting himself. "It's pretty."