By Ann Maxwell
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Extra resources for A Dead God Dancing
I’ll brew something for her. ” He looked after the retreating Kaffi and felt more addled than Syza. Sister! Sacred Xantha’s Hand. Was Kaffi always so impulsive with her trust? Then he sighed at his own churlishness; Kaffi was a psi whether trained or not. She would be accustomed to making quick, accurate judgments. Or mainly accurate. More accurate, surely, that the average, psi-blind person could even hope for. Or even .... With an effort Lhar gathered his random thoughts. ” Silence. ” When Syza neither answered nor moved, Lhar reached into her mind.
But we can’t fairly count me. ” “Don’t. I don’t want—” He barely heard her voice, imploring. “No. This time you’ll listen. You won’t let me help you, so you’ll have to do the integration alone. You’ll need information. I don’t give one cold turd for the dead on Bjmsk. They were a cruel lot. ” “He was insane,” said Lhar savagely, guessing but feeling certain. “You saved his flesh but not his mind. How could you? You would have become as mad as he if you had probed his slinking malevolence. And his mad cunning.
Dreaming. Ready to walk now? Kaffi’s waiting for you by the fire. ” “She called me ... ” Syza paused and the last splinters of mindlessness vanished from her eyes. “I see. Then Tal-Lithens don’t normally travel as though fleeing Hell. ” “We move normally,” said Lhar. ” Her eyes slid away from his, returned, evaded again. ” Lhar tried to see her eyes but they were hidden behind the curving shadows of her eyelashes. He was afraid that she would slip away again, back to that horror which would someday claim her.
A Dead God Dancing by Ann Maxwell