From this proximity and without all the smoke—although wisps of fog were everywhere—she could clearly see the slightly distended profile of his death mask, which appeared to be made of thin bronze beneath its chipped and cracked pigment (itself the greenish-blue pallor of the dead) and also a single steely eye, which was recessed amidst the blackened eyelet and whose yellow iris caught the light from the bow lantern and gleamed.
He was like an apparition, and there were at least three things in addition to his mask that she had difficulty looking away from. The first were his arms and shoulders, again, clearly visible now that he’d swept his cloak back, which were enormous for such a tall and otherwise lanky man— especially his dead-blue arms, which were so muscular and ropey and vascular
