Naaiko did not have a reply at first. She could only stare at his impossible eyes. When he finally blinked, she tore her gaze away to study the battle once again. Already the two warbands were disengaging, each side having lost more than half its numbers to the chasm. The last few men dropped into the deep darkness even as she watched. The beautiful stranger did not seem to hear them. His glimmering eyes studied only Naaiko. She felt the need to meet his attention with polite words at least.
“I…I should be dead,” she said.
He laughed, a pleasant sound.
“Now that would be a tragedy,” he said. “You’re far too beautiful to die.”
She examined the rug again, floating above the Well of Death on a soft wind, drifting slowly toward the far side of the fissure. “No,” she said, looking at the Sm
