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It was now Hide’s turn to lean upon the Red Dream, as
his wounds would have proven fatal otherwise. I continued
to cast words at him through the bleeding vision we shared.
“We could be brothers, you and I. Twins, even. And now,
having established such a connection, you know how I use
the bones of my family, yes?”
I lunged forward, placing the mass of broken ribs in my
hands back into Hide’s chest. Once they had achieved the
proper depth, I used the makeshift handles to lift my howling
opponent from the ground. It was a long walk to Hide’s art
exhibit, but I’d always enjoyed brisk strolls through the
underground, especially in such wonderful company. Hide’s
violent protests came to a sudden stop when I slammed his
body down atop a large steel shaft anchoring one end of the
canopy of skins. His grip upon the Red Dream was fading,
his swan song near completion.
With one last effort, Hide clawed out at me. I allowed his
hand to close over his lost face, reclaiming it—and with it,
the fate he attempted to impart me. I looked down almost
shamefully before meeting the eyes of the skinner. “I would
have enjoyed nothing more than spiting such a creature as
fate,” I whispered, “a mindless brute rusted into ancient
habits. But if it should occasionally align with my needs, I
must wish it well.” Hide’s eyes had shed their fury, the face
he’d stolen from me placid and near blank. “I’d like to think
that I bring all of you with me,” I continued, “our mighty
pack of Wolves, ever-growing, preparing for the final battle.”
He only looked up and smiled with my lips, murmuring,
“I’d like that, too.” I watched the great skin-switcher’s fire
sink into the ashes of his dark eyes, and I reckoned yet
another awful deed performed in service to the Shepherd’s
terrible Game.
For quite some time, I slept in the gathered silence
beneath the lunatics’ conjoined skins, regrowing my lost
flesh. I was host to many wonderful dreams there, happy
for the excuse to do nothing but drowse. But I was clearly
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