“I said,” Rhys intoned with such horrible calm, “apologize.” The Steward groaned. And when another heartbeat passed— Bone cracked. Keir screamed. And I watched—I watched as his arm fractured into not two, not three, but four different pieces, the skin going taut and loose in all the wrong spots— Another crack. His elbow disintegrated. My stomach churned. Keir began sobbing, the tears half from rage, judging by the hatred in his eyes as he looked at me, then Rhys. But his lips formed the words, I’m sorry. The bones of his other arm splintered, and it was an effort not to cringe. Rhys smiled as
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