decided to deal with them the civilized way.” “Civilized?” Tress screamed as another shot sounded outside. This one appeared to miss, fortunately. “Takes a civilization to build a cannon. What? You think there are forests out there growing them spontaneously?”

She turned her gaze to the sky. It was so blue out here, away from the mining smog. That felt immoral somehow, as if she were seeing the sky without its clothing.

It was delivered by Hoid the cabin boy. (Yes, that’s me. What tipped you off? Was it perhaps the name?)

Oh, and have I mentioned the deadly spores?

The girl had been given the unfortunate name of Glorf upon her birth (don’t judge; it was a family name), but her wild hair earned her the name everyone knew her by: Tress. That moniker was, in Tress’s estimation, her most interesting feature.

The girl wondered why men so often used food to describe women’s features. There was a hunger to such men that was best avoided.

The very journey she’d taken to find what she wanted had transformed her into a person who could no longer enjoy that victory.

ensorcelled

deific.