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No trace of the Holy One remained within the stone loom Her owl, too, had vanished

"Co her hands with pal will hars had not ed, hands cupped modestly over his lap To show that she was a huolden antlers and unbound the bronze waistband, setting them to one side He watched her with a wary respect but without the fear that dogged every glance thrown her way by the villagers she had grown up with and lived beside for the whole of her life Either he was still confused, or he was simply not afraid Yet if he had walked the path that leads into the land of the dead, then perhaps he no longer feared any fate that

The sarht-red heart’s blood, just now beginning to dry and darken The dogs showed no sign of injury, and although he bore a fresh pink scar under his ribs, quite a nasty wound, it was cleanly healed and wasn’t weeping

Where had the blood co to you?" she asked, cautiously reaching out to touch the closest garold, and when she shook it out, she recognized under the bloody stain the iarment: a lean and powerful lion woven of black threads set into the gold

He jerked away froht His face was so expressive, as if his soul per froed in some deep recess, as was true for most people Perhaps he wasn’t a person at all but the actual soul, manifest on the physical plane, of the warrior who had once worn these garments and who had died in them Perhaps he had killed the man who had worn them, and now recoiled froarment of undyed wool, bloodier even than the lion cloth, that lay crumpled to one side Beneath it lay a leather belt incised with smaller lions, fastened by a bronze buckle also fashioned in the ily ths of cloth and strips of leather that were, she realized, fine leggings

Where had his people learned such craft? Why had they not joined the alliance of huainst the Cursed Ones?

Beneath the clothing lay a gars, pale in color, yet not silver, or tin, or bronze, or copper It was heavy The rings sang in a thousand voices as she lifted the sarment had holes that would accoh to fall to the knees Perhaps it was not ical spell of protection made physical, curled and dense, to protect the body Her shoulders ached fro it as she set it down and picked up the knife that lay hidden underneath

Not stone, not copper, not bronze: the metallic substance of this knife had none of the implacable fire of the bronze sword she had taken from the corpse of the Cursed One It was blind, with a heartless soul as cold as the winter snows, as ruthless as the great serpents rithed in the depths of the sea and shole the curraghs in which the fisherfolk plied their trade: having hunger, it feasted, and then settled back in quiet satiation to wait until it hungered again

Magic was the blood of these garments Was it any surprise that blood stained the, even fearing, to find an answer in his expression But in the way of any young wo without pleasure, she only noticed his body

He was quite obviously not a child, to run naked in the suestures to show hio and return

As she rose, her string skirt slid revealingly around her thighs, and he blushed, everywhere, easy to see on his fair skin She looked away quickly, to hide her hope Did he find her attractive? Had the Holy One truly brought her a alia and hurried away to her shelter, storing antlers and waistband in the chest and returning to him with the linen shirt draped over her ared but with his head bowed and resting on his cupped hands Hearing her, he lifted his head Tears ran down his face Truly, then, he wasn’t actually dead, because the dead could not weep

She set the garround in front of hi her back so that if he had any secret rituals he had to perfor the threshold of nakedness into civilization, she would not disturb him There was silence, except for the wind and the rustle and scrape of hishis throat, and she turned around