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kill you right now."
    Opal held his breath for a moment, wondering if he would. "Yes, I suppose you could," he said raggedly. "Not very sporting of you, though."
    Jules tilted his head to one side, a sardonic smile spreading across his face. "Like I care."
    The dandy waited for a moment. If Jules did kill him, then perhaps the pain of living would be over, so there was that to look forward to. But then nothing happened. He felt the point twirling around against his skin. "Look, if you're not going to murder me—"
    "What? What is it Opal? What can I do for you?" Jules snapped, tossing the sword off to one side. It clattered against another wall that was much closer than Opal imagined it to be.
    "Do you have any pain killer on you?"
    Jules emitted a huff of amusement. "No. I don't."
    "Alcohol?"
    The assassin sighed and leaned back into the dirty wall behind him. "No."
    Opal bit his lip. "All right ... that's all right...."
    "Who are you reassuring?"
    The dandy looked down at the splints on his arms. The one on the right hand was broken, and then he began to remember the fight with the soldiers. "Where's Cameo?"
    Jules pointed just behind Opal.
    She was asleep on the cold floor. He knew she had alcohol, and probably the pain killer, too.
    He turned back to Jules.
    The assassin was staring at the ceiling.
    "Jules?"
    Jules looked at Opal contemptuously. "So you're Francois Mond."
    "Uh ...." Opal wished Cameo was awake. He was in too much pain to deal with this idiot. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
    "Enjoying what?" Jules perked up. "Your agony?"
    "Yes."
    "Of course not. That would be wrong...."
    "Ah, yes. Well, dear boy, perhaps you could take the flask out of the top of Cameo's boot and give it to me?"
    Jules smirked. "And why would I do that?"
    "Perhaps you were for the revolution?"
    "I wasn't very aware of it. I was three."
    "Right. I should've guessed that." He glanced down at his shoulder and noticed the dried blood on his sleeve. He didn't even feel the pain of it until he became aware that he'd been cut.
    Jules turned away. "Besides, she'd wake up."
    Opal struggled over to where she lay. "Cameo."
    Annoyed, Jules rearranged his cloak about himself.
    "Hmm?"
    "Wake up," Opal whispered against her hair.
    "Opal?"
    "I need a swallow of the tincture."
    She sat up, rubbed her face briskly with the palm of her hand, and then rummaged in her shoulder-pack until she found the ceramic flask.
    Jules watched in disgust as she fed it to Opal.
    "Where are we?" the dandy asked as he leaned back against a coffin. The drug was already beginning to lessen the pain. He felt sleepy.
    "In a cemetery," Jules said cuttingly.
    Cameo turned toward him. "I see you two haven't killed each other yet. That's reassuring."
    Opal smiled, a faint little smile, eyes closed. "Oh yes, very."
    Jules' eyes flicked from Opal and then back at Cameo. "I didn't save your life so that I could kill you later."
    "I'm not Black Opal."
    Jules studied Opal, who was now falling into a drug-induced stupor. "It wouldn't be very sporting of me."
    Cameo raised an eyebrow.
    "I had an opportunity, and I didn't kill him, all right?"
    "Let's keep it that way, Jules."
    "Or what?"
    "Or I'll kill you."
    Jules lowered his eyes to the dirty floor. "You don't have to threaten me. I'm not going to hurt you, or ... him. You spared my life. I'm not going to take yours now."
    "Opal didn't spare your life."
    "No," he hissed. "I'm just being nice about that."
    Cameo took a drink from her flask. "Yeah, you're a real good guy, Jules."
    He folded his arms.
    "Why don't you try to get some sleep?"
    "It smells like death in here."
    "Does it?" She sniffed one of the coffins, and then her own hair. "I didn't notice."
    He met her corpse-like eyes, knowing full well what she was thinking as she was looking into his. That they, very possibly, were the reason for the stench of death in the mausoleum, rather than the long-dead occupants ... if there even was anything left of these two in the stone