He is dead. Marethyn smiled. In the mountains they have honored Neyyore, Rada said to Marethyn as if translating the youths'silence, with fire and prayer. Its surface wasa uniform matte black, and there was a curious silver cord, thin as a hair, holding it together.
She cleaned it completely and held it up, turning it slowly between her fingertips. She had always hated this armoras a symbol of male dominance and Khagggun arrogance. And how do you propose we do that? Fortunately for you the triggering mechanism has already been set in motion. But I will get it out of you.
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