Valley of Gold dolor y sangre

distance kept meant the words were heard; silvertongue swallowed the taste of crimson in her mouth and kept her stalk firm and lethal, cutting through the sands of the lowlands as if she had always known them. neither howl nor shriek nor word cast from her lips again; she was inexorable, terrible. it had been long years since their meeting, but silvertongue had been a frightened girl then. she was none of those things now, and the spectre along her cracked mind whispered that a draught from his jugular would be the only wine to at last soothe her sleep.