“I suspect that is where we will find the altar upon which you will be sacrificed,” he replied. Islington overheard, for he glanced at Pierce. “Is Miss Lion being sacrificed on our behalf?” “For queen and country,” drawled Pierce. “The gods might wish for a more contrite soul,” Islington added. “Then you should climb atop yourself, Islington. I’m certain the gods would be most willing to take you.” This produced an unexpected smile.
