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earth. The same searchlight bathed her in radiance; she couldn't see much detail of the square below, but
she saw enough to know that townsmen and Jaguar Knights alike had fallen on their faces.
Bethany Martins raised both hands, fists clenched, her body spattered with blood and bone and brains.
She remembered treachery, and Wong screaming. One word, and everyone in ten miles' space would
die.
She remembered famine and bandits, and bodies in ditches gnawed by rats or their own kinfolk.
"They do need a guardian they can believe in," she muttered to herself. "A sane one." Whether she was
still entirely sane was another matter, but she had more to think of.
A statue stood at the base of the stairs, squat and hideous. Her right fist stabbed at it, and stone
fragments flew across the square, trailing sparks. It was important to know when to stop. The rest of the
Company wouldn't take much talking around and it was best to get things straight with the locals right
from the beginning. Hit 'em hard and let 'em up easy, as her father had always said.
"Amplify."
"YOU HAVE FOLLOWED FALSE GODS," her voice bellowed out, relayed at an intensity enough to
stun. "BUT THERE WILL BE MERCY."
The people of Cacaxtla shuddered and pressed their heads to the ground, and knew that a god a
godess stronger than the Lord of the Mountain had come.
He had brought fire from the stone. She had made stone walk.
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