Then Tressa smiled, drew his head down, looked into his face till the clear blue splendour of her gaze stilled the tumult in his brain.
“I alone know how to deal with Prince Sanang,” she said quietly. “And if John Recklow, or you, or Mr. Benton or Mr. Selden should kill him with your pistols, it would be only his body you slay, not the evil thing that would escape you and return to Erlik.”
“Must you do this thing, Tressa?”
“Yes, I must do it.”
“But—if our pistols cannot kill this sorcerer, how are you going to deal with him?”
“I know how.”
“Have you the strength?”
“Yes—the bodily and the spiritual. Don’t you know that I am already part of you?”
“We shall be nearer still,” he murmured.
She flushed but met his gaze.