Another strike landed across Vanya's back. The whip made a terrible sound, and Vanya's body arched, then sagged, then steadied. She laughed aloud after that one, higher and deranged, as if the pain were a drum that kept time for her. The rogues watched with the devotion of those who had found a theater for their hatred.
"Is this what you wanted?" Vanya asked, voice thick. "Is this the peace? Is this the end of it? Because I know the truth, your soul will not rest until the world itself bleeds clean." She glanced at Liora with something like pity. "And there's nothing you can do to stop it."
