Oh, lord, it reeks in here.” Alistair covered his nose and mouth with his hand. “We should have left him a bucket.”
Heaven followed him into the room. She didn’t say anything, but Matheus noticed she didn’t breathe, either. She stopped in front of Quin. He sat cross-legged on the sleeping bag, staring straight ahead, taking no notice of any of them. Heaven stooped slightly, peering into his face. She tilted her head from side to side, then circled him, returning to her original position. Drawing her hand back, she slapped him.
Quin rocked, letting out a soft whimper, but made no other response. He continued to stare through Heaven as though she’d been made of glass.
“Hey!” Matheus grabbed Heaven’s arm, dragging her away from Quin.
“That is interesting,” said Heaven. “He is neither one thing nor the other. The universe does not approve of such things.”
“I’m with the universe on this one,” said Alistair. He knelt in front of Quin, murmuring as he checked the bandages. His hands moved with quick, sure movements, experience bringing a gentleness to his fingers. “Nothing seems infected, but I supposed that hardly matters.”