Chapter 28 The Deception of the Moon

She was not brought back to her body by the throbbing pain from the wound on her leg. Nor was she shaken from her reverie by the comforting pleasure of the snow that she placed on the still-festering lesion. What brought her back from the world of her memories was the odor of burnt flesh fouling the dry desert air.

"The sun has set. I can see again."

Amaris Dahia wheeled around and saw the demon—his face concealed behind a black veil. "I have been expecting you, Louar."

"And I you, 'dearest daughter'," replied the Jackal in a rasping, satisfied voice.

"You're no longer masquerading as my father. Why do you insist on calling me that?" she demanded with a sense of foreboding.

He looked at her for what seemed an interminable amount of time and said, "It is my pleasure."

"Monster! All you desire is the destruction of the living. But your evil can come to nothing, as long as I wear the Xámza—as long as I am alive."

The Jackal coughed and sputtered and laughed and muttered, "...as long as I am alive."