19
Over the course of the next two days, the Artisan killed two more warriors, both Vasylli. Adelaida’s connection to his presence had grown stronger, and so both times she had managed to come before they died. The terror of the first was so pervasive that she could do little but hold him down physically, trying to will some measure of calm, which she didn’t feel, into his body. It was all in vain. He died in agony, his mouth frozen in mid-scream. She closed his mouth, but his teeth remained protruding and horrible.
The Artisan hadn’t come out to gloat the first time.
He did the second time. His second quarry was hardly out of his childhood, probably no older than seventeen. Adelaida had been tending the wounded after a long day of marching, and so she was close when she felt something
