It hurt to open his eyes. Or at least his remaining eye. Redmond Venter didn’t need a mirror or even need to reach up to feel the bandages to know that his right eye was gone. He remembered the knife in Stray’s hand, the arc of the swing, the force of the impact against his skull. He was lucky to have just lost the eye. Lucky… Venter grimaced and turned away from his comrade. Former comrade. “You shot me,” he muttered. A statement, not an accusation. “I got you out.” Gavin folded his hands; they were trembling. “For old time’s sake.” “Why are you still here?” he murmured.