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.
But there was nothing to attack. Chane and Chess
gathered there, staring in wonder.
Jilian was a spinning top, just beginning to run
down -- a flashing, tilting, dancing blur spewing blood
from the point of an extended sword. Cloven carnage
was just collapsing, almost at her twirling feet. The head
and shoulders of an ogre thudded down on top of a tan-
gled pile of bloody parts, just as the dwarven girl's sword
flashed around again and took off the top of its skull,
above its eyes.
"By the Hammer of Kharas," Chane swore.
"Yuk," Chestal Thicketsway said.
"What in the name of all the gods?" Wingover's voice
came from just upslope. "Jilian? Are you... are you all
right?"
Jilian pivoted a few more times, then got her balance.
Wordlessly the girl lowered the point of her sword and
rested on its hilt as she tried to catch her breath. She
stared at the pile of sliced ogre, then turned away, wrin-
kling her nose. At the sight of Chane, she ran to him. "I
knew you'd come," she puffed, "but that... he didn't
give me any time to wait for you."
Chane simply stared at the dismembered ogre, speech-
less.
"He was rude," Jilian explained. "He wasn't behaving
well at all."
Chane began to shake his head, slowly.
"That's Cleft," Jilian introduced, pointing at the stack
of ogre parts.
"That's one way to put it," Chess noted. "Although
'sliced' would be a better word. Wow! Look at that! Feet
...shins
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