They looked over at Manus. The man was heading their way from fifty feet off, the dripping Espada still gripped in his right hand. It looked like someone had tossed an entire bucket of blood onto him. Which, as Dox considered, was more or less what had happened. Neither of them said anything as Manus approached. Dox, who had planned to holster the Wilson, found himself keeping it in a retracted low ready position. As it happened, Larison was doing the same. Manus reached their position. He glanced at their pistols. Then he closed the Espada, and for the first time, Dox saw him smile. “Don’t
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