She gave him his flask back, and paused for a moment, looking at the majo. “Very valuable, you said?” It blinked large silvery eyes. “That’s right. Also of some sentimental value, if you care.” “Oh, well, in that case,” said Kyr. She drained the last gulp of liquor, held up the little shining glass so it caught the light and its silver traceries sent strange shadow-patterns spiraling across the floor. Then she tossed it into the air, caught it, and smashed it against the pleasure ship’s painted hull. “Cleo!”
Kyr is wild and true to the cause
