It was then that the Body emerged from behind the Lyctor’s shoulder, squatting somewhere close to the doors. Her sweet dead face floated a little behind the Lyctor’s. She looked at you with her heavy-lidded, yellow-gold eyes, and she said, quite clearly, with the voice of Aiglamene and your mother commingled: “Lie, Harrow. Now.” “Fifteen,” you said immediately, hoping your own meat would not betray you. She pressed, “Counting from conception, or from birth?” “Birth.”
