turned the hand as if it had suddenly interested her as much as Stilcho. The
fingers ran up the fabric of Stilcho’s sleeve. And he stared back with a hard,
revolted stare. Of a sudden Tasfalen’s face broke into Tas-falen’s grin, and a
small short laugh came out. “Well.” Then the hand dropped and the face turned to
them again with the eyes aglitter. “You hold onto that globe so tightly-cousin.
You’re young, you’re handling something you’re only half able to use, and you’re
vulnerable, my young friend. This house is Ischade’s property. Anything she’s
ever handled is a focus she can use; and this is a place she owns, you
understand me. I felt your wards when I came through them, a nice little bit of
work for what they are, but that streetwalking whore isn’t what she was, either.
Now do we put something around this house she’ll have trouble breaking, or do we
just stand here playing power games? Because she’s on her way here, you can
believe me that she is.”
Haught tucked the pottery globe the more tightly in his arms, then slowly
reached out and set it in the air between them. It spun and glowed and Moria
flinched away, her arm flung up between herself and that thing. It hummed and
throbbed and hung there defying reason; it beat like a heart as it spun, and her
own hurt in her chest; her tangled hair lifted on its own with a prickling eerie
life, her silken, muddy-hemmed petticoats crackled and stood away from her body
with a life of their own. All their hair stood up like that, Tasfalen’s,
Stilcho’s, Haught’s, as blue sparks leapt from Tasfalen’s outstretched hand,