“Yes, you did,” Olivia said, twisting all the way around to face Salvadore and his guards. “Now that you can see it hasn’t done anything, care to reconsider? You can still take the deal, Salvadore. I’ve decided we don’t need your cleanup service—we’ll be taking the ponies with us. And you’ll be getting out of our way.” She reached up, pulling off the mask covering her helmet. Then she twitched, and the helmet retracted from around her face. The smell hit her at once, harder than the “anti-magic” machine he was holding. Blood, and death, and feces, and so much worse.