Daddy Pa picked up the knife and touched the tip of it against one edge of the devil fish face, between it and Yenderil’s skin. His hand was shaking. “Anything?” “Nothing.” Daddy Pa gulped and pushed in a little deeper. Yenderil wanted to shut her y’eye-them, but she wanted to see, too. Daddy Pa said, “Lord help me, I never do anything like this before. Lance a boil, yes. Sometimes even stitch up a deep cut. This is something else.”
