Dævara should have asked more questions before she first set up shop as a whore…
Dævara should have asked more questions before she first set up shop as a whore…
Amber sat on the mattress just outside her tent and, for the fifteenth dawn, watched the death of the sky…
Amber finds the ruins of Samarkand, passing between diorite sphynges, down to the underworld. Things are going to get much worse.
…a kind of writing which simply makes you feel very strange; the way that living in the twentieth century makes you feel, if you are a person of a certain sensibility.