Her voice was low, dangerous, with an edge sharper than any knife. "The demon that killed my brother."

Another knife appeared in her hands, balanced and spun in a flashy bit of showmanship. Because really, what else was there to say? If Ishiah knew thing one about Tricksters, he'd understand what that meant. Death, and not a pleasant one.

You just don't mess with family. Getting the Light had been a nifty bonus prize, like the toy in what had been the last box of your favorite cereal.