By the end of it Pyotr has removed his coat altogether and stretched it on the floor in front of Gaeta as a place to catch and contain the silver that pours from his mouth (and also, as the process continues, from his mouth and eyes, silver tears that do not sting but may feel strangely heavy before Pyotr carefully wipes them from his face). He smiles, looking at Gaeta with something very close to admiration.

"Well done," he says quietly. "I'll make something beautiful from all of this."