Kichlan turned, slowly. Devich stood behind him. With his limbs lengthened, he had grown impossibly tall, and loomed several heads above Kichlan. But his awkward body was not stable, and he swayed and stumbled, even as he stood in one spot, struggling just to maintain his balance. “How?” Kichlan whispered. Devich’s mouth moved again. His metallic teeth were too large for his jaw, he drooled as he attempted to speak. “—is—” Kichlan backed against the street sign. He held up his metal-capped arm, and struggled to extend it into a short, ugly-looking sword. He did a pretty bad job of it too, ending up with something notched, and at an angle. Voices whispered in the back of his head, and his stomach clenched with an exhausted ache. But Devich did not attack. He just stood, wobbling, drooling and said “—ana? Wh—? Where…is…she?” Slowly, Kichlan lowered his arm.
