Artemis wrenched Catskill’s head to one side. “Y’know, it’s weird,” she said. “Stuff like this?” She wiggled a knife in Catskill’s face, runes inscribed down the fuller. “Ain’t no good ’gainst the livin’, ’cept how it’s already a knife. ’Gainst the dead, like you? Prime paralytic. It’s complicated, y’wouldn’t unnerstand it.” She grinned. “Magic’s a funny thin’, ain’t it?”