"Five judges," she says. "Five minus one—Hunter—and two—Smith. That’s right, isn’t it? You’re a Fire Judge. Is there a little medal on your watch chain? It doesn’t seem very you. Not very Jack." Bless the pharmaceutical company, bless the experimenting doctors, bless her own endocrine system for this benefice of strange abandon, and bless Diana Hunter, too, because without Athenais she would never dare, even now. She can feel the alchemist moving in her mind, a tool ready at hand.