CHAPTER 7
When Longinus came to, he found an urchin sitting cross-legged opposite him, running a rag carefully along his rapier’s blade. He could make her out quite clearly in the moonlight. She was a scrawny thing, wearing rags that were so big for her she looked more like a coathanger than a kid. Her tiny face was dwarfed by an odd mass of rope-like hair that hung in thick segments down to the small of her back. Her skin was so dark it looked almost black in the night, and her eyes gleamed like those of a fox, watching him.
Longinus moved, catching the smell of blood and vomit on himself, and he thought he might faint again. He tried to push himself up, but his hand sank into something cold and congealed that seeped through the thin silk of his glove. He pulled away with a yelp.
“You
