THE CRY OF A WOMAN

methodical patience, her breath coming in short, controlled bursts. Adanna watched the corridor, her ears st

nk of mortar gave way. Moonlight sliced th

ht air hit her face like a blessing - until the stench of the palace's waste trench made her gag. She cr

mped over

ng cold into her palm. It was a broken shard of pottery, its e

r festival feasts, but never a man. The soldier stood with his back to them, p

age," Imani breathe

d, her shard found the soft hollow beneath his jaw. His eyes bulged as she sawed upward, the hot gush of blood co

g the corpse of its dagger and b

lared to

cond guard from groin to sternum. His intestines spilled onto the dirt with a

e quiet ones." She pried the spear from Adanna's frozen fingers. "Lesson two? The

ht soil collectors' tracks. As dawn painted the palace walls gold, two more bodies would be

ad claimed its