He dared say no more to Father Sifans, hearing the distaste in the old priest’s voice. To himself, he said over and over again, “Those evil brutes. Those evil brutes. Akha should have no part of them.” But the phagors were all over the Holies, padding patiently along with the militia, their noctilucent eyes peering here and there under their craggy brows.
One day Yuli tried to explain to his charge-father how his father had been caught and killed by phagors in the wild.
“You do not know for sure they killed him. Phagors are not always entirely evil. Sometimes Akha subdues their spirit.”
“I’m sure he’s dead by now. There’s no way of being certain, though?”
He heard the father lick his lips as he hesitated, and then leaned towards Yuli in the blackness.
“There is a way of being sure, my son.”