---
The dagger fell. Silvershadow's fingers had already become a fist. Azhara's hand was white on the leash. Skyweaver held her breath high over the camp. Alka rode a cold layer of air above the cloud line, waiting for one word that had not come.
Mardek was holding himself; he didn't show any fear.
He changed his grip at the last blink, snatched Miryam by the back of her neck and lifted her up with one hand as if she weighed nothing. He stepped backward from the bar and swung her out into the open like a trophy, blood still streaked in her hair and across her cheek from the Friend. The dagger showed in his other hand. The grin wasn't on his mouth now, but he held his face like a man who wants others to think he is calm.
"White hair!" he called, voice carrying across the tents. "Look at what I hold."
Kai stopped moving. He had been two steps from the last bodies between him and the dome. He froze because he could not make his eyes go anywhere but the child in that man's hand.
