Dex shook his head. "Not especially. But who knows. Maybe I can give it a try." He shrugged. "I am good with my hands. Hand," he corrected after a moment. He held up his left hand, and sighed.
"Speaking of. That's what I wanted to talk to you about." He tugged the glove off his left hand, the sudden rush of air on the stumps of his missing fingers creating a phantom itch that about drove him mad.
"Do you know anything about the Denarian called Lasciel?"