“You, of all people, will refrain from lecturing me,” said Irian. “I want to be clear, Madam Trevasse, that I called because I couldn’t think of anybody else who might have the power to help. Otherwise I would strike you, now, into the ocean.” “And you think that saying this is going to help you, somehow? To charm me?” “No,” said Irian to Anja. “But you’ll either help while knowing you’re loathed, for Nighthand’s sake, or not help at all. I won’t pretend that you’re forgiven. Your kind are excused so much, so often, so easily—a flash of money and all’s well. I won’t play that game. Nighthand
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