His creatures bustled through the village, dragging women out of homes. They all seemed crude compared to the beauties of Eteer; these northern women were taller and wider, their hair lighter, their garments made of fur, leather, and homespun. Yet he would find a suitable one among them. A few were screaming, others weeping; all tried to flee, but the demons held them fast with constricting tongues and coiling claws. A few of their menfolk tried to save the women, staging some heroic assault; they fell fast, their blood feeding the soil. Finally a score of young women stood in a line, clutched in the grip of the demons.

"Come, Ciana!" Raem said. "Come see them. Is there one you favor?"

Ciana stepped forward hesitantly. "Raem, what . . . I know these women. I know them all by name." She tilted her head. "What will you do to them?"

He turned toward her, smiling. Her bronze mask was beautiful, but behind it her face was gone, and that was an insult to his god, an insult he must erase. "Who among them is prettiest, do you think? Which face do you like?"

Her hand crept toward the hilt of her dagger. "Raem, what—"

"I like this one," he said, interrupting her. He pointed at a tall, lovely woman with full red lips, pale cheeks, and long eyelashes. "She will suit our purpose. Stitchmark!" He coned his palm around his mouth. "Stitchmark, to me!"

Rancid wings buzzed. A demon landed and clattered toward him on many hooked feet. Stitchmark looked like a great gray beetle, its shell spiked. Long arms grew from its body, and each hand sprouted metal tools as fingers. There were needles, scalpels, spools of thread, bone saws, and more. A series of glass lenses on hinges covered its eyes. When the demon reached Raem, one lens left its eye, replaced with another. The demon bowed.

"Stitchmark, I like this young woman's face." He pointed at the villager; she was weeping and screaming, trying to escape the creature that held her, looking lovelier than ever. "Give Ciana her face."

The woman wept.

Ciana took a step back, gasping.

Stitchmark leaped forth and began to work.

"Hush, Ciana," Raem said as the young huntress trembled. "Here, lay down in the grass. Close your eyes. Let Stitchmark do his work and soon it will all be over."

Blood flowed across the village. The demons crowded around, licking their chops, admiring the work in progress. Raem stood among them, a smile stretching across his lips. Scalpels cut and spools turned and needles raced.

When Ciana rose to her feet, blood trickling down her neck and forehead, Raem approached her. He touched her pale cheek, and he kissed her full red lips. The demons feasted behind them.

"You are beautiful, my Ciana, my sweet killer of dragons."

They left the village full of blood, bones, and a discarded bronze mask.

LAIRA

 
LAIRA

She stood in her tent, remembering the day her mother had died.