Two Eyes Cenote might & meat

while meseba glowered, khusobek watched machiavelli with a strangely observant air. detached, perhaps, as if better to understand the shape of the pearled hips and the soft, unhurried smile on the servant's mouth.

"enough," he muttered at last, cutting in after meseba. a heavy paw lifted. "the hebsut has asked for this. we will allow you to prepare what she has requested. be quick."

turning away from them, he turned his eyes over the glowing stone and the counterparts to the greenery, this garden nurtured inside the cenote by a man he still did not understand.

once more he found himself wanting to watch machiavelli; he did not, only slowly circled, facing the walls, exploring with his eyes their framing as the work proceeded. "what is it?" he said at last of the poisons themselves. "we should know what we bring, if only for our own knowledge."