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Where Shan stood, watching her, his face etched with heartache. Let him go! Jeren yelled the words, marching towards Gilliad, as if unafraid. She couldnt let him see her fear. Couldnt let him see her hesitate or give him a single moment of power over her. Where was the sword? If he had her knife he wouldnt have left the sword, no matter how much he hated it. She went with Ariah. To the Vision Rock. What do you mean, give Jeren to the Fellna? She caught you, she changed you, and then she put you back, right in my path, said Jeren and all the world turned silent and still. Everything listened to her words. Not just the Shistra-Phail and Naul, not just those things he knew could listen to her. The world itself listened. The rocks and the stones, the grass and the river. Her words bounced off them and echoed back to him, to mock him and brand themselves on his mind. She brought you back to me. Why? D. I. Russell Vicki was sitting before her own masterpiece, her back to the canvas as she chatted with three other girls. The blonde artist had done very little in the way of art over the last hour, instead gossiping with her friends in hushed chatter. Some comments were apparently too fun to keep restrained, and occasionally the volume spiked, followed by laughter. Samara had gritted her teeth against the intrusion, trying to stay focussed, wishing she hadnt left her portable CD player at home. Some Metallica would easily drown those fuckers out. You cant blame yourself for this, Dakota. Max shook his head. Salyer did this, and we both know it. Browne met us at the front desk, and we followed him down a long hallway to a typical detectives office. Boxes of files lined the wall behind his chipped and battered desk. The chairs he waved us to were also of chipped wood. Everything in the office had seen better days. She glanced around, checking the shadowed corners of her room.Where are they? Brandishing two sets of fully protruding claws, Samara raised a lethal fingertip and tapped her bottom lip, contemplating her decision. Her friend had no idea of the grotesque changes taking place in the darkness of the archway. Just as Lily had changed, trying to keep it in the dark, away from Samara. Just as the golden lights of The Scholar had led her to the deception like a beacon, so too would the welcoming glints from her blades offer Lily the same revelation. Now, he said. What have we here? Theyre here! Marcus dropped the gun inside his desk drawer then pushed a legal pad across the desk.Draw me a map of exactly where you dropped the body in the bay and then where the car is. What are you doing? she asks, trying to make it sound funny but clearly keen for an answer. He takes her in. Pretty, heart-shaped face. Brown eyes. A nice smile. Shes wearing flip-flops and messy dungarees: paintbrushes sticking out of the pocket on her front. Her shoulders are bare, the raindrops adding a sheen to tattoos of Flamenco dangers and delicate arum lilies. The thing on her hip looks like a Galapagos tortoise without its shell. Its floppy and damp and looking distinctly unimpressed. It grips the lady like a gargoyle clinging to a cathedral roof. Ive got it. Go play with the others. She stared at him, her eyes liquid, her mouth trembling. No sacred leader of the Feyna race. No being imbued with divine magic. Just a young woman, who so wanted what she thought she heard to be true, but couldnt quite believe it, or trust it enough to risk having her heart shattered if it was a lie. He was only a god. Reaching her brothers side, she knelt down. He tried to speak, but his voice failed him. He was dying. I glanced back at the crowd, which was slinging questions at the pretty blonde.I was nice..