Dead Mans Hand

10:00 P.M.

Sometimes, Brennan thought, duty was never ending. He and Jennifer had left Atlanta immediately. They retrieved Brennan's van from the airport parking lot and drove to where the Crystal Palace used to be. Brennan got out and walked over to the ruins.

It was dark. There were few pedestrians on the street. There was nothing to bring them here now that the crystal lady was dead and her palace was gone. Brennan stared at the wreckage for a long moment. The stench of burning was still in the air, the tide of memories still flowed in his mind. He turned and stood before one of the piles of debris that had been around since the Jokertown riot. He waited until he saw eyes blinking inside it.

"How are you?" he asked.

"Sad. Our lady is gone and our home is burned."

"I didn't want that to happen," Brennan said. "But it did," the voice replied accusingly.

"Yes," Brennan said, "it did. Have you found anyplace else to go?"

The tiny head shook no.

"Yes, you have," Brennan said softly.