Chapter one
From the Ochre LimitsThe woman prostrate on the desert sand moved with the lax tremble of imminent death under the vulture’s outspread wings. The bird inclined his stiff black wings, circling in the air, and regarded the woman with unhurried patience, awaiting the moment of her death.
She rolled sluggishly onto her side and Rippasch the vulture curved above her, his twin shadows flickering across the sand. The woman opened her eyes.
The bird lifted and the polished beak, sharp and hooked, caught the radiance of the suns and glittered. The woman’s eyes half-closed. Watchfully, Rippasch dropped lower. Now she lay still, sprawled and supine, a last quiver of her limbs signal enough.
The ochre sand stretched to the horizon unbroken except for the line of footprints, faltering a
