[b]Alexa![/b]

"So firstly, it's not like I did anything wrong," said Beljani. "And the letter should say that. But it also should say how terrible it feels to have done nothing wrong and have everything [i]be[/i] wrong anyway. Do you know what I mean? When you can't do better and still not have it be enough?" 

There is an eerie unity as she walks across the battlefield, cradling your head in her arms. All around her there is peace. Kaeri, Alcedi and stranger things grind to a halt and join a phalanx around her, a mongrel formation with a harmony strangely reminiscent of the Coherent.

"So it should be that feeling," said Beljani quietly. "But in words that make the reader feel that feeling. They need to be able to cut through armour. And they also... need to say that she didn't do anything wrong either. That she was perfect too. And that I respect that even if it didn't solve anything either. Can you write that?"

She doesn't say who she wants to write it to. Maybe to many people.

[b]Vasilia and Dolce![/b]

A wind swept Sahar's airless moon. Regolith like mountains of paperwork swirled and blew through the stars, every one signed in red.

"That is a sacred blade," whispered Artemis in the click of abacai. "This is a sacred hunt. This is a sacred prophecy. The husband will murder his wife. Aphrodite's will be done. Demeter's will be done..."

You are outside yourself. Your hand moves, frictionless. There's nowhere you can go other than Vasilia. There's no one you can hurt other than Vasilia. The Anathema, invoked in the presence of Artemis, in the presence of Demeter, in the presence of Vasilia must perform its function. You are the executioner and you know in your bones that it was always going to end this way.

You can taste her blood already.

"Stop! I revoke the contract!"

And you stop, the blade a centimeter beneath Vasilia's skin.

"You," said Artemis in the silence of broken oaths, "what?"

"Away with you, ridiculous girl," said Demeter. "You have [i]failed[/i] and I no longer have need of you. Coming to steal [i]my[/i] kill once I am finally positioned to do it myself? To grant mercy to [i]my[/i] captive with death? You have failed, Artemis, and I will not grant you the satisfaction of pretending you have fulfilled your oath."

You turn your head shakingly to the side. You see the Goddess of the Hunt.

You see crazed eyes. Terrible fangs. Wild hair. Deadly talons. Flowing hair and armour of bone and skin carved with ten trillion names and red, red, red.

She might be Bella's sister. 

You close your eyes as hard and as fast as you can and look away. Greater heroes than you have suffered far worse punishments for daring to look at Artemis when they ought not to.

"I understand," you hear her voice still so close to your ear, still so calm and measured, hardly any blood and flesh on her teeth. "I apologize for failing you, Lady Demeter."

You feel the knife in your hands break and crumble to dust, but you wisely keep your eyes shut until the moon disappears behind the clouds again.