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the
wrist. The man with the deep voice stood and looked down on her. He
examined the wrist and the hand, turning it over, peering between
the fingers, making sure he could get a good look at it in the
torchlight.
    “No scales. No sores. I see no webbing or
imperfections.”
    He jerked off her knit cap. An errant braid
uncoiled, landing on her shoulder and sliding down to her waist.
The men grew quiet. The gloved hand wiped itself across her jacket,
pausing over her breasts.
    “A girl? ” the third man asked
incredulously.
    The deep-voiced man reached through the hair,
rubbing the scalp, searching for any outward sign of abnormalities.
Finding none, he leaned over and peer intently into Atty’s
face.
    “Tell me the truth if you wish to live. Are
you the sole person responsible for killing sixteen of my men?”
    Unable to speak, she nodded. In the uncertain
flicker of light and dark they hadn’t noticed the color of her
hair. It was a small comfort.
    “Is the bow your only weapon?”
    Again, a nod.
    The man leaned back, sighing deeply.
“Amazing. Horeth?”
    “Sir?”
    “Get MaGrath to look after her. See to her
wounds.”
    “Yulen!”
    “Are you objecting, Karv?”
    The man named Karv stepped forward, giving
Atty a decent chance to size him up. He was short and stocky but
extremely muscular. He wore his hair long and loose, and his beard
and moustache were equally scraggly. His body armor looked almost
golden in the dim light.
    “She’s a Mutah, Yulen. Why don’t you kill her
and get it over with?”
    “She doesn’t show any symptoms,” the
deep-voiced man, the one called Yulen, replied.
    “And we know that sometimes Normals have
taken up residence in Mutah camps,” the one who’d spoken fourth
said.
    “Maybe you can’t see her Mutah signs right
now. Remember that Mutah whore we picked up outside of Yungaree?
You never knew what she really was until she took off her clothes
and you saw those extra rows of teats under her arms-”
    “Karv, I have my reasons.” Yulen turned to
face the shorter man, and Karv took a step back automatically. It
was clear who was in charge, and whose word would not be
challenged.
    “What about the others?”
    “Kill them,” he responded, as if ordering
someone to do his laundry.
    Atty struggled against her captors. Despite
the unrelenting pain in her head, the man’s callousness was the
last straw. “You bastard,” she hissed, trying to lunge for him.
    Yulen turned toward her. A chuckle bubbled in
his throat. “The Mutah is still feisty?”
    One of the men holding her arms spoke out.
“Want us to knock her out? Would make her easier to handle.”
    “No. I want her tended here. Put her in one
of the buildings. I’ll decide later if I want to burden us down
with any prisoners. Uh, Karv, don’t kill the prisoners... just
yet.”
    He gave a shrill whistle between his teeth.
One of the Cleaners by the pit stood up and waited for
instructions. Yulen waved him in and the man trotted over. In the
meantime Atty was set back on the ground and her arms bound behind
her. One of her captors left but the other remained to keep a heavy
hand pressed down on her shoulder.
    “Yes, sir!”
    “What’s in the pit?” Yulen asked.
    “Can’t quite tell, but it’s a big one. Packed
down with potatoes, too, I think.”
    “Is it ready to eat? I’m almost hungry enough
to puke a bowl of Mutah stew.”
    Several Cleaners laughed. Atty assumed it was
an old joke. Yet the mental image she got from the comment turned
her stomach.
    Karv spoke up. Again, Atty was getting the
distinct impression that the squat little man was either a close
confidant, or the right hand of the man called Yulen.
    “Can it be safe enough to eat? After all, we
know Mutah will eat their own feces if they have to.”
    “Where do you get such ghastly ideas?” Atty
managed. Enough was enough. And even if her mouth meant her death
sentence, she couldn’t bear the thought of dying under such false
allegations.
    For