She wasan artist, and light was the one commodity she could not do without. From her makeshift perch,she could see the handlers' sweat-streaked faces as they continued to ply their beat-sticks to guide thekuomeshals, use their voices to soothe them. It was as if the small, inconsolable sounds she made had wokenhim from his unnatural open-eyed slumber. An evil daemon had invaded her, and if Konara Inggrescould do something—anything!—to free her from its influence, she knew she had to try it.
For instance, she had discoveredthat possession of a Ramahan was possible only by a daemon, and possessio When it reached the outer sac ofher brain a sorcerous light flared, falling upon the three carved Ja-Gaar, awakening them to life. Abruptly dizzy, she lay back down. He slammed the side of her head against the cobbles.
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