It was clear the room had not been used. The little things—vases and paintings and delicate sculptures—had been removed now that no one was here to amuse herself by destroying them. The curtains had been taken down and the furniture covered in white cloth. The flayed pikemen who had been her punishment for allowing Lan to be presented in Azrael’s dining hall were still here, stacked together in the tall wardrobe that used to hold Batuuli’s fine gowns, still bound to their crossed poles and covered over so they wouldn’t get dusty in their neglect. Lan peeked in at one. His skin had dried, shriveling on his bones and even cracking in places. When he rolled his eye to look at her, she could hear it scraping in its socket. It took some time to pick the knot loose so she could untie him, but he was easy enough to lift down. He weighed less than a sack of grain. His skin crackled in her hands. She left both pikemen crumpled on the bedroom floor and went into the washroom.
What do You think about Land Of The Beautiful Dead?
