All she saw was the glint of moonlight in a straight, sharp line flashing into the man beside her. He groaned and slipped to his knees, falling sideways onto the ground. "By the Eight," Lormingga whispered in horror. A scaled hand clamped across her mouth, preventing her from saying anything more. "It's over," a voice rasped softly. A soft cloud of ash filled the air and she coughed, wondering why the assassin hadn't killed her, too. "Kyne, my goddess and guide, I thank you for saving me from the lizard-folk," she said softly. "We must return them to their masters." "And for that, you must pay."