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“
Too
bad
,
”
the
Baron
muttered
.
He
pushed
himself
back
from
the
table
,
stood
up
lightly
in
his
suspensors
and
hesitated
,
seeing
a
change
come
over
the
Duke
.
He
saw
the
man
draw
in
a
deep
breath
,
the
jawline
stiffen
,
the
ripple
of
a
muscle
there
as
the
Duke
clamped
his
mouth
shut
.
How
he
fears
me
!
the
Baron
thought
.
Shocked
by
fear
that
the
Baron
might
escape
him
,
Leto
bit
sharply
on
the
capsule
tooth
,
felt
it
break
.
He
opened
his
mouth
,
expelled
the
biting
vapor
he
could
taste
as
it
formed
on
his
tongue
.
The
Baron
grew
smaller
,
a
figure
seen
in
a
tightening
tunnel
.
Leto
heard
a
gasp
beside
his
ear
—
the
silky
-
voiced
one
:
Piter
.
It
got
him
,
too
!
“
Piter
!
What
’
s
wrong
?
”
The
rumbling
voice
was
far
away
.
Leto
sensed
memories
rolling
in
his
mind
—
the
old
toothless
mutterings
of
hags
.
The
room
,
the
table
,
the
Baron
,
a
pair
of
terrified
eyes
—
blue
within
blue
,
the
eyes
—
all
compressed
around
him
in
ruined
symmetry
.
There
was
a
man
with
a
boot
-
toe
chin
,
a
toy
man
falling
.
The
toy
man
had
a
broken
nose
slanted
to
the
left
:
an
offbeat
metronome
caught
forever
at
the
start
of
an
upward
stroke
.
Leto
heard
the
crash
of
crockery
—
so
distant
—
a
roaring
in
his
ears
.
His
mind
was
a
bin
without
end
,
catching
everything
.
Everything
that
had
ever
been
:
every
shout
,
every
whisper
,
every
.
.
.
silence
.
One
thought
remained
to
him
.
Leto
saw
it
in
formless
light
on
rays
of
black
:
The
day
the
flesh
shapes
and
the
flesh
the
day
shapes
.
The
thought
struck
him
with
a
sense
of
fullness
he
knew
he
could
never
explain
.
