*Belasarius*

I had no right still being conscious after all that, but my brain was stuck in survival mode, dedicating everything it had towards keeping me conscious and aware. As such, I was treated to the sight of my father’s limp, bloody corpse standing straight up like a puppet being lifted onto its feet by its strings.

The White Eye was here. We had failed.

He chuckled at Gravestone’s terrified face, how he held me tighter, protectively against his chest. “Why ...