"And when I manipulate your orbital sockets to send needles of bone through your eyeballs, you won't be able to see anything at all," Harrow mutters, but the ominous weight of the threat isn't quite there. Gideon's smile is too bright and too delighted for that. Harrow looks upwards, squinting despite herself, and sighs.

"Home," she says. "We can start the next one in that absurd series you found the other day." Whether they finish it or not is the open question, Harrow knows--but the answer to that isn't quite clear yet.