What do you think?
Rate this book


384 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2005
"I launched myself toward the wheaten-haired person draped in porphyry and emerald silks upon the overstuffed carriage seats within. He turned in a miasma of alcohol and perfume and grilled meat, and as his eyes widened and his mouth opened, my machete slashed forward, across his long, golden neck, but my shroud, my makmaki shroud that had protected me and camouflaged me thus far, hindered my wild slash, and my blade slashed not across his throat but across one smooth, rounded shoulder, and as the momentum of my strike carried me forward and I fell against the person I would have killed, I realized it was not Kratt, was not even a man."
"'Lookit the thize of that one!' he bellowed. 'That'th a cock, hey-o!' He tugged on his own little thing beneath his dirty loincloth. A venom cock, they're called. I'd heard the words grunted respectfully among pottery clan men. I'd also heard the words mentioned by women wearing a carefully blank expression cultivated to hide opinion. Understand, women do not revere the venom cock as men do. They see it for what it is: an uncontrollable reaction to an impending event, and a slightly foolish reaction at that. Dono's reverence was a mystery to me back then, made all the more mysterious by his assertions about what a venom cock could do: slay a woman! Cripple a baby! Turn pleasurers into deaf, blind, barren idiots!"