The Ripper Affair (Bannon And Clare) - Plot & Excerpts
The knife cleaved flesh, yes, and there was a hot jet of salt-crimson blood. Then… droplets hung in midair, and the blooming within her was a sweet pain. Her Discipline roared, needing no chant to shape it. No, when a Discipline spoke, the entire sorcerer was the throat it passed through. It required only the strength to submit. As long as that strength lasted, wonders could be worked. What had she done? Turned inward, yes, and found… what? Not m’pence, Marta Tebrem whispered. Needs it for my doss, I do. They spun around her, sad women and merry, dead on a knife or by a strangle, in childbed or by fever, by gin or misadventure, in hatred or in desperation, by folly or chance. She was of the Endor, but even more importantly, she was of their number, and the spark that rose within her was both negation and acceptance. Some of them had wished for release from the miserable drudgery and endless pain. There was the acceptance. Yet even louder, and containing the acceptance as a shell contains a nut, the denial.
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