She crouched before the sleeping giant, holding her weapon over him. Her hand trembled. It seemed so ... unnecessary. Cowardly. She was no killer.

Isla trembled before she plunged her dagger into his neck.

'Guard the door for me.' It was done. Isla fished Pepper from her pocket and onto the wall, right beside Nagendra's door.

Right beside his men's bodies; still guarding him, even in death. It was a mercy, at least, that she had taken Gorlem in his sleep.

Isla wiped her eyes.

No time to dwell.

She crept into the room, a trail of light falling over Nagendra's sleeping form. Darkness returned once she shut the door. She stood beside him, watching the rise and fall of his chest. How could a man sleep so well, knowing all the evils he had done?

Isla crashed into his mind and jolted him awake.

Nagendra sat with a gasp. Instantly, his still-dazed consciousness fought against her. It was pathetic; a drunk man stumbling in circles.

'Enough of that.' Isla revelled in the fear shining through his eyes. 'You answer my questions, and I'll make this as quick and painless as possible.'

She gave him control of his voice and he stuttered, 'Who ... how did you get in here?'

'I ask the questions, now.' Had she not played this song before? The scene flashed before her – Haana, chained to a chair, bruised and bloodied. When did Isla make a habit of such an objectionable pursuit?

She hurled the thought away.

Haana's dead. Perhaps it's just as she deserved. 'How long have you been snatching?'

'I-I don't ...'

'How – long?'

'Twenty years. At least. Maybe more.' She could see him fighting the urges in his head. 'What ... what are you doing to me?'

'I hear you've taken a liking to Ang Kur. Are there other snatchers working the area?'

Nagendra pressed his lips together. His resistance triggered the same effect as it did Gorlem; a break of sweat, a tremor through his body ...

'The more you resist me, the more it will hurt.'

'No! There weren't other snatchers! Just me and my group!'

'Just as I thought. So eleven years ago, it would have been you, in the Woods of Ang Kur. You took my sister.'

'Eleven years – you're mad!'

'My father went after you. What happened to him?'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'You ambushed our carriage and took my younger sister.' Isla forced calmness on her voice. 'A six year-old girl. What happened to the man who went after her?'

'Please – I don't – do you know how many coaches we've ambushed? How many children we've took? How many fathers gone after them?'

'Pity for you.' Isla flared her coercion.

Nagendra gripped his head. 'I don't know! They mostly die – we mostly kill them!'

The air left Isla's lungs.

She had always known her father was dead, but it was another thing to have it confirmed.

He had promised. Isla could see his face as though it had been painted beneath her eyelids. The room spun around her. He promised to meet us in Elingar.

Nagendra jumped off the bed. One hand grabbed Isla by the hair, the other turned on her neck. Isla choked, her theurgy slipping. Her core wavered, she grasped at it, struggling for focus ... but the pain ...

Nagendra squeezed.

She remembered the dagger in her hand and stabbed repeatedly at his side. He cried out, his hold on her loosened.

He was too well-built for her to physically subdue. Isla went in for the one place she knew could hurt him. She brought her knee to his groin as hard as she could.

Nagendra groaned at the impact; his hand released her head enough for Isla to jump back and retreat as far as the door. She practiced her breathing. There was not much time. Nagendra was already stumbling towards her, his hand nursing the shallow cuts on his hip.

He gave a sudden yelp and frantically reached for his back. The smell of cooked meat filled the room. Pepper! Again coming to her rescue. The distraction gave Isla enough time to reignite her core and blast into Nagendra.

There was a wall this time, but she launched off her anger and shattered through it.

Nagendra swayed back onto the bed and sat, defeated.

'Get out of there, Pep.' Pepper scampered out of Nagendra's shirt. The element found a safe place higher up on the wall where it clung, glowing in its own flame.

For a few seconds Isla stood, catching her breath and securing her control over Nagendra. When she finally moved back towards the snatcher, she left a fair distance between herself and the bed

'Do that again, and I'll make sure you die painfully.'

'You talk big for a small girl with a small lizard.'

'I have only one last question. Your end will depend on how you answer it.'

'I fucked your sister! Took her every way I could. And when I was done with her, I let my men fuck her as well.'

Isla grimaced at the spittle flying out of his mouth. But she will not be provoked, this time. 'Where is she?'

'Probably impaled on some village chief's cock.'

'Don't make me ask again.' Isla pressed deeper into his mind. She did not like the feel of the place; a musty pit, jumbled and rotting. 'Who did you sell her to?'

Nagendra's head twitched. 'I don't ... know!'

'Think ... harder ...' Isla fired up her coercion. Nagendra's mind lit up in a series of flashing light and images. She followed it deep into the centre of his pit and below, where the under-chamber of his mind was sparking to life.

'Stop! Stop ... I ...' His lips froze into a silent cry, his body started to convulse.

Still Isla pressed on, willing him to remember. Decades of snatching ... how many children had he taken?

Thousands of them, as young and defenceless as Tam Mai had been. Nagendra's eyes rolled back into his head, the veins in its whites pulsing deep red. Thousands of mothers. Thousands of fathers, dying to protect his family.

A croak escaped Nagendra's mouth. His mind was crumbling; slowly seeping and expanding into hollowness. How was he still resisting her? She had him completely under her will.

Isla pulled out, leaving a slither of his mind in tact. He was not resisting her coercion, he simply could not comply. She was asking him to recall things he had long forgotten; perhaps never even had fully known. She may as well ask a pig to fly.

Now the man in front of her was reduced to an unresponsive stupor. His eyes had returned to normal, though his gaze absent.

Eshe never warned me of this.

And a million other perils, the Ligueri's voice chided her.

Isla stumbled away from what was once Nagendra; and as her bubble of guilt and horror welled up, her core gently died, leaving her with a sharp pain in the back of her head.

'Pep ... we have to go.' She made for the window, wincing as she climbed out.

She could feel it even as she ran down the deserted street; an emerging ringing in her ears, a searing hotness in her head. It was like nothing she had ever felt before. Isla held it in for as long as she could.

Her vision blurred, but she recognised the shape of the markets at the edge of the street.

A little longer. She could not feel her legs, but she knew she was running. All she could feel was the fire in her skull.

Isla could not even tell when her face hit the ground.    
       

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