
than meets the eye, I suspect.”
“And less to you, I’d say,” shot back Kalinda. Si Cwan had detected some slight trembling in her hands
earlier as she held the scythe, but now it was rock steady.
She abruptly took a step toward Anubis, thrusting the scythe forward. The jackal-headed god did not
flinch, but his eyes narrowed in what now seemed annoyance. It appeared that Kalinda’s amusement
value to him was wearing thin.
“You have potential, child. But not as much as you think.” Then Lodec’s whimpering from nearby
distracted him, and Anubis turned his attention to the injured Danteri with poorly disguised annoyance.
“Cease your carrying-on. Pick up the hand. Hold it against your wrist.”
Lodec did as he was instructed. He did so very tentatively, however, apparently appalled by the notion
of touching his own severed hand. Anubis, seeming for all the world as if he’d forgotten that Kalinda was
standing there—or perhaps he simply no longer cared—strode over toward the fallen Lodec and
produced a small vial from the belt of his kilt. A thick, viscous green liquid was within, and he upended it
so that it poured down upon the separation between hand and arm. Lodec let out another scream then,
and this one made the earlier seem a mild squeak in comparison. There was a loud sizzling, like meat
being cooked up, and the aroma almost triggered Cwan’s gag reflex. He was relieved he was able to
squelch it in time; vomiting before one’s enemies was never a good idea.
“Stop your yowling,” commanded Anubis, and Lodec did the best he could. He sank his teeth into his
lower lip and once again confined his pain to whimpering noises. As he did so, however, he was staring
fixedly and with amazement at the point where he had pressed his hand against his arm. The tissue
appeared to be reknitting, and there was already some movement visible at the ends of his fingers. “You
see? You see how we take care of those who treat us properly?” continued Anubis, and Lodec managed
a nod. “Good. I do not suggest you forget.”
“I will not, High One,” stammered Lodec in gratitude.
But Anubis had already forgotten about him, instead turning his attention once more to Kalinda. He cast
a brief glance at Si Cwan as if trying to determine whether the Thallonian nobleman was worth further
time, and obviously decided he wasn’t. “You trade in the ways of the dead, as I do. That gives us some
common ground,” he growled. “And you did catch me unawares. You tricked me. I do appreciate a
good trick, more than any others who live might. But do not, however, think that it gives us so much
commonality that I will hesitate to treat you as anything other than an enemy.”
“Nor we, you,” Si Cwan said, rallying. He moved to Kalinda’s side, keeping a wary eye on the other
senators. Cowed they might be by current circumstances, but Si Cwan had not forgotten for a moment
the inordinate strength that had flowed through Lodec’s limbs.
Nearby was a fountain with a statue of a Danteri warrior wielding a sword. Si Cwan did not hesitate. He
lashed out with a powerful thrust of his right foot and slammed into the base of the stone sword where it
was held by the warrior. The stone cracked under the impact and shattered, and Si Cwan caught the
stone sword with one deft grab. It was far weightier than any real blade, of course, but that was all to
Cwan’s liking. If he swung it, anything of flesh and bone that it came into contact with would instantly be
crushed by it. Water gurgled out of the broken-open hole.
“Very impressive,” commented Anubis, although he did not sound especially impressed. He was still
watching Kalinda warily. “It is a pity. You could have been a most useful ally.”