That night, while she ranted and raved and sweated, Meas sat with her, a knife in her hand. And at the last, when Meas put the blade to the woman’s neck Mekrin had a moment of lucidity, the pain vanished from her eyes and she met Meas’s gaze. “Do it, Shipwife,” she said, “and I’ll thank you at the Hag’s fire.”
