missed the sack of Sibili. From Volya, who came every evening to check on her, she learned some of what she'd forgotten: which night they'd assaulted 車査定 the wall, which day the paladin had repelled a black cloud near them, which day the citadel had been taken. Volya's tale was incredible—it didn't seem possible that she could have forgotten such fighting, just from a knock on the head. She worried at her mind, trying to force the memories to return, but nothing worked. She had fought beside a paladin—he had come later and tried to heal her—and she could not remember.
Volya's reports of the city's sack were almost as strange, but not as disturbing; it bothered Paks less to have missed something completely than to have been there and forgotten. Volya told of rich treasure in the palace:
"Gold," she said. "I never imagined so much. Even a gold mirror. And most of the rooms had pictures on the floor, made of little bits of rock laid in patterns: all colors. And in one room, the walls and floor were all white stone, carved in patterns of vines and leaves. When the light came in the window, it glowed. We just stood and stared; it was wonderful. But underneath—" Volya paused, and went on to describe the horrors that Sibili had concealed. Both Siniava's palace and the temple of Liart overlay dungeons and torture chambers. They had found victims still alive, but hopelessly crippled, and on the high altar in Liart's temple a child's body, still warm. Paks thought at once of the girl in Cha who had feared for her little brother—was that what she'd expected?
"How many days did I miss?" Paks finally asked, when Volya had run down.
"You were out for more than a day—but from what you say, you don't remember much from the day or so before that."
"Huh. Not doing the Company much good."
"No, the fighting was almost over when you went down. Oh, and Paks—you should have seen the servants in the palace—"
"Why?"
"They all had marks on their faces—t 保険 attoos," Stammel said. "Seems Siniava marks all his own household—his personal bodyguard, too: blue or black tattoos all over the face. It should make them easy to recognize."
Paks nodded. "It should indeed. Makes it hard for them to run away, too."
Volya grinned. "I hadn't thought of that." After she left Paks realized that she'd have to quit thinking of Volya as a recruit: she and the others had come a long way since the winter. ls