master! Not the needles. Not the strings. It burns in our chest, the stone. Not his legs! Give him back his legs. I don't want them. Not his arms, please. I don't want his arms. I killed him for silver, not arms. Where are my legs? Where are my arms? The needle burns!"
Gloriae stared at the weeping, trembling, bloody creature. Was this what Dies Irae planned for her too? To kill her and sew others' parts onto her?
"How many were you?" she said.
"Three. Rot Gang. Rot. We deal in death and silver. Not needles. No, please not needles, and not stones that burn."
She shook the head. "Animating Stones. Where are they from? Where is he finding them?"
"I must serve him. I must kill for him. I must never betray him. He will hurt us, Arms. He will cut us. He will burn us, Legs. We must not tell her. We must never speak of the stones."
"You will speak," Gloriae said. "You will tell me everything."
It cackled, spraying saliva. "You cannot hurt us like he did."
Gloriae shook her head. "No. I cannot. But I can end your pain, Teeth. I can free you. I can separate you from Legs and Arms."
It froze.
Its breath died.
For a long moment, it stared at her with narrowed eyes.
"We... we were Teeth once. We do not want his legs. We do not want his arms. They scream inside me. They still burn! I hear their voices in my skull. Free them from me. Cut them off me! Cut them off. I will speak to you then."
Gloriae glared. "First you will speak to me. Then I will end your pain. Then you will be a boy again, only Teeth. No more mimic."
It wept like a child. "Only Teeth. No Legs. No Arms. No silver. No rot. Just Teeth. Only Teeth, Rot Gang, yes."
"Will you speak?"
It nodded, seeming to wilt in her hands. "We will speak of stones, yes. Animating Stones. Things that burn. Stones of fire; they bind us, they move us. They serve him. Oh, they serve him, Arms. They do not stop. We cannot stop it inside us, clawing us, moving us."
Gloriae narrowed her eyes. "Where did Dies Irae find them?"
The bloody tears kept flowing; Gloriae could not believe it had so much blood. "I have seen them, Arms. Yes, I have. A wagon driving through the city. A wagon that glowed red. Animating Stones were there! They took them into his dungeon, Legs. He took one. He put it inside us. He took my legs. He took my arms. He used yours, he sewed us together, Rot Gang, no silver, only mimic. Only mimic."
"Where did the wagon come from?"
"A mine! A mine in a burned forest. A mine where Animating Stones glow. A mine of mimics, yes. A mine of stones. A mine of pain, and death, and rot. Rot Gang. Free them! Cut them off me. Cut off his legs. Cut off his arms."
Gloriae dug her fingers into the head. "Not yet. Where is the mine?"
It bared its bloody teeth. "Master would laugh of it. The same forest, he said, where the weredragon king once hid. He mined for Animating Stones in a crater, a crater where no trees could grow, and where the earth sank. And he laughed, Arms. Yes, how he laughed."
"The weredragon king? Do you mean Benedictus? Is the mine in Hostias Forest, where Benedictus once hid?"
The head coughed and trembled. "We don't know, Legs, do we? We don't know, Arms. Hostias Forest, he called it, yes, right under the crater where King Weredragon hid. And he laughed. But we only screamed. Our stone burns. It burns us. He hurt us. He laughed and sewed us. Free us!"
Gloriae tossed the head aside. She turned to leave.
Hostias Forest. The crater. Gloriae clenched her jaw. The place she had burned when hunting Benedictus and Kyrie. She would have to return there.
"You promised!" the head screamed behind her. "She promised to free us, Legs. She promised to make us Teeth again, to make us Rot Gang."
Gloriae drew an arrow and lit it with her tinderbox. She nocked the arrow in her bow.
"You lied!" the head shrieked, eyes blazing. "You swore to free them, to cut them off!"
Gloriae shut one eye, drew, and aimed.
"Yes," she whispered. "I lied."
She loosed her arrow. It shot like a comet and hit the severed head. It burst into flame.
"You will burn with us!" it screamed from the fire. "You will burn too, Gloriae. You will burn forever. You