Lulah pressed her sword across the side of Ramin's neck. He was a head taller than her and the weapon rested at an angle, but it was still obvious that she could inflict a terrible injury with just a flick of her wrist.

“We shan't fight,” Ramin said.

“No,” said Lulah, “and so you shan't fight him.”

Ramin glared at Ramus, then turned and knelt beside the writhing Serian. “Konrad,” he said gently. But he could only look on hopelessly as the man suffered.

“This is what Nomi wants so much,” Ramus said. He tried to inject venom into his voice but he felt suddenly wretched, looking down at the man he had doomed. Konrad's eyeballs were turning pale. I did that, Ramus thought. A bout of queasiness hit him and he closed his eyes, pain thumping down his spine.

“Help me with him,” Ramin said, but he was no longer talking to Ramus.

Lulah helped Ramin lift Konrad to his feet, the stricken man screaming as his joints ground and popped. The Serians dragged him across to his horse, moving carefully but still unable to prevent the pain. Together they helped him up onto his mount. Ramus was excluded now, the cause of this pain and yet not allowed to help.

And can I? he thought. Perhaps if I translate more of the parchments I'll find a cure? But unlikely as that seemed right now, some deeper part of him—the new part that hearkened to the Sleeping God, perhaps—knew that this was an example that needed to be made. When Nomi discovered what he could do she would pursue him no longer. She would fear him.

I did that, Ramus thought again.

Lulah stepped back with a startled cry when two of Konrad's fingers snapped off in her hand.

LULAH HELPED SECURE the dying man to his saddle.

“Is there a cure?” Ramin asked, looking to Ramus. His voice was quiet, and in that hopelessness he already knew the answer.

Ramus shook his head.

For a few beats, Ramus thought that Lulah would mount up and ride away with the Serians. If that happened, he would not call her back, because Lulah could make up her own mind. He hoped that she would stay.

She stood beside Konrad's horse for a while, touching the slumped man on the cheek and snatching her hand back. She said something to Ramin, but Ramus could not hear her words through the rain.

Konrad's right arm looked gray and dead. His face was pale. His right hand was cracked and crazed, and it bore stumps instead of fingers.

Ramin mounted up and grabbed Konrad's reins, riding away without another word. He threw Ramus one final glance. There was hate there, and something else besides. Fear, Ramus thought. It was a new experience for him.

Lulah returned to the fire, keeping it between her and Ramus. “You did that?” she asked. “You did that with words?”