burnt sienna. Nice, nice. Her eyes leaped, flickered in fear when he flipped the
knife to catch it by its leather-wrapped tang. It had no hilt, to keep that end
light behind the weighted blade.
‘You see?’ he said, showing teeth. ‘I have no desire for your blood, understand
me? Only this bauble.’
The bracelet remained cold in his palm and when it moved he jerked his hand
instinctively. Fast as he was he was only human, not a striking serpent; the
bracelet, suddenly become a living snake, drove its fangs into the meaty part of
his hand that was the inner part of his thumb. It clung, and it hurt. Oh it
hurt.
The thief’s smile vanished with his outcry of pain. Yet he saw her smile, and
even as he felt the horror within him he raised the throwing knife to stab the
filthy bitch who had trapped him.
That is, he tried to raise the knife, tried to shake his bitten hand to which
the serpent clung. He failed. Almost instantly, the bite of that unnatural snake
ossified every bone and bit of cartilage in his body and, stiffly, Gath the
thief fell down dead.
His victim, still smiling, squatted to retrieve her property. She was shivering
in excitement. She slipped the cold hard bracelet of gold onto her wrist. Its
eyes, cold hard stones, scintillated. And a tremor ran all through the woman.
Her eyes glittered and sparkled.
‘Oooohh,’ she murmured with a shiver, all trembly and tingly with excitement and
delight. ‘It was worth every piece of silver I paid, this lovely bauble from
that lovely shop. I’m really glad it was destroyed. Those of us who bought these