“Her voice was true, her fingers clever on string, stick or pipe, and she knew the Deathsong. For all Yanus could be certain, the aggravating child had been practicing that song ever since old Petiron started burning with his fatal fever.”
“Petiron had been her friend, her ally and mentor. She had sung from the heart as he’d taught her: from the heart and the gut. Had he heard her song where he had gone?”