"Neither God nor the three remaining of his Lyctors were known to me then," she retorts. "Not at a level I could trust. Nor was Ianthe, I admit that freely, but she was a...manageable quantity." She turns to look back at Palamedes, black eyes taking in the expression on his face and the scissors in his hand. "Had you been an option, Sextus, and had I thought you'd assist if you were, I'd have chosen you. Ianthe is nowhere near your caliber. Even at full Lyctoral strength."

Gideon had asked why too, with a level of shock and anger backing the word that demanded an answer. It's a harder one to give, and Harrow turns back to her slowly, delaying the inevitable need for her response. "I asked her," she says at last, voice low and slightly halting, "because she knew what it was to be...fractured. To have lost."

Harrow lets that linger in the air for a moment, then gives Palamedes a nod. "I can unravel the new bone growth, when necessary. It should allow you to lever out the necessary panels and expose the brain again."