'She blazed, blinding white. A sword flickering like lightning in one hand. In the other, a double-bladed axe that dripped something molten in its wake. The horse— Naught but bones, bound by fire...The woman was masked in flat, featureless gold. A headdress of arching, gilt scales rose like hackles about her head...Daughter Dawn. Menandore—...When she spoke, her voice was like the hissing of a thousand snakes.'(MT, UK Trade, p.79-80)


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