Looking at the so-called witch, Alanka let out a sigh of helplessness and shock.
He knew the woman. She had some reputation in Votradnoi's high society and was known as a female Mage because of her skillful magic tricks. She could conceal all sorts of small objects on her person, then make them appear in her hands when least expected.
Her most celebrated act was her card trick, performed with astonishing mastery. But ultimately, it was all sleight of hand, with no magic or witchcraft involved.
Now she had been arrested. Seeing her lying motionless and covered in blood, Alanka knew she had already been tortured to death. He knew, too, that the holy war he had launched had spiraled completely out of control.
Alanka's sigh echoed through the gloomy church. He crouched down and gently brushed his fingers over the woman's eyes, frozen in terror.
This woman, who had once sent cards fluttering like butterflies through aristocratic salons, now lay on a stretcher like a discarded rag. Her fingers had been broken one by one; evidently, her torturers had wanted to find where she hid those "magic props."
It was then that the Earth Mother Goddess's high priest noticed how unusually emaciated the performer's corpse was.
In Alanka's memory, she had been voluptuous, with full breasts and rounded hips, a luscious beauty like a ripe peach.
But now she resembled dried fruit, her body shriveled until scarcely anything remained but her skeleton. Her skin clung to her bones, and her ribs were clearly visible... Having spent time at Bolas Fortress, Alanka knew very well that this was the result of prolonged starvation.
Alanka raised his head. The three believers were still watching him expectantly with crazed eyes. They were just as thin, their nearly fleshless faces flushed an unnatural