Voshak's hair, a pale blond braid, which he bleached, was his trademark. It made him memorable. That's how the slavers operated. They adopted costumes and personas, trying to make themselves larger-than-life and hoping to inspire fear. They counted on that fear. One could fight a man, but nobody could fight a nightmare.

Why had I wasted all my time pretending to be someone I wasn't? I was tired, so very, very tired of standing on my own brakes. I felt...right. I felt free.

Very well." He sat cross-legged on the floor of the cage. "You haven't run off so you want to talk. I will hear your explanation now." "Really, Your Majesty? So good of you to condescend. I'll try to use small words and go slow." "You're wasting my time. I know Jim betrayed me and you're covering for him. This is your chance to dazzle me wih your brillance or baffle me with your bullshit. You won't get another. When I get out, I won't be in the mood to listen.

You don't cause problems. You cause catastrophes.

In the whole world, there was no better place than being wrapped in him.

The rabbis paled. I’d managed to terrify holy men. Maybe I could beat up a nun for an encore.

Aunt B walked out onto the helipad wearing loose yoga pants. “I’m just here to stretch. Kate, want to help?” “Sure.” Thirty seconds later, as I was flying through the air, I decided that this wasn’t the best idea.