“You are now my servant, my lowly servant. I will be in different guises, but you will always recognize me and obey my commands.”
She lifted a pear shaped crystal from between her breasts.
It was blood, of course, he recognized the smell, although she’d cleverly concealed the source.
“I’m never accurately predicted the reactions of the frightened or stupid, and you appear to be both.”
“I’ll have you flayed alive for surprising me like this!”
This, Quellen knew, was the beginning of a nightmare. “I have not loaded the dice,” he said.
Elymas knew the blind seer but refused to acknowledge him. What did that mean?
Drask. Now there was a god he could understand. A god of the belly, a god who listened to everyday worries and cares.
Of course, Oren Whitehair had been telling the truth.
Dementia often occurred in the final stages of Lud Sellum poisoning, and Elymas wondered if this was happening now.