“The Nyka I know would have fed him bits of his own woman himself,” I said. “That Nyka you know. I don’t know this Nyka. And I do not know you.” “I am—” “Tracker. Yes, I know your name. Even witchmen and devils know it. They even whisper, Watch the Tracker. He has turned from red to black. Do you know what they mean? There is trouble all around you. I look at you and see a man darker than me.” “All men are darker than you.” “I see death as well.” “What a deep thinker you have become, Nyka, now that you eat women’s hearts.” He laughed, looking at me as if just seeing me. Then he laughed again,
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