He saw the woman leading the attack, and his voice went from him. “Tsuni el-tsun,” he whispered: god of gods. And you could see why men would call on gods to stop her. She skipped down the slope like a thistle, all points and no center, obsidian-tipped spears bundled on her back. Bounding from stone to black smooth stone as the atlatl in her hand bobbed to a secret rhythm.
tain shir the Thing that you are
