"You're next. Follow."
Gray Hand had a gift for ruining relief before it had time to sit down.
The five of them were pulled away from their separate holding sections and driven through an inner corridor of black stone and iron lamps set too far apart, so that every stretch between them looked longer and meaner than it really was. Neo ended up at the front without choosing it. Alice fell in beside him with her usual spare quiet. Snot drifted just behind, which, in his case, was almost saintly restraint. Copper-hair came after with his hands in his pockets, shoulders loose, as if being thrown into a group with strangers halfway through an exam was merely another inconvenience in a long and distinguished career of being unimpressed. Helena Rook walked last, broad-backed and steady, carrying the same brutal weight she had shown in the Black Route.
For a while, nobody spoke.
Snot broke first. As he always did.
