"I want my knife back."

"You returned." The Exciser said from where she lay. She hadn't gone far, only a couple hundred meters. She'd bundled her cloak to serve as a pillow, though she still wore armor and had her hands crossed over her sword. Without her cloak I could see a set of belts with pouches and knick-knacks; dangerous metal knick-knacks.

"Refusing seems like a good way to get my fucking head cut off." I spat to the side. "So, which god is it? The one who commands you kill anything that doesn't look like you?"

The Exciser's eyes narrowed, glinting dangerously. "Goddess, and have some respect. It's only by her Grace you survive."

"Fuck that." I plopped down and held out my hand. "My knife."

"You will temper your blasphemies. Or you will die." The Exciser said evenly. "Without the words of the Goddess there is no hope for you."

"Goddess of thieves." I shook my hand. "My knife."

Her hand flashed out and steel flashed. My knife buried itself to the hilt in the ground. Right between my legs. It took every ounce of self-control not to jump or curse; it helped that I was scared stiff. "Thank you. Praise be to the Goddess."

She frowned at my blasé tone but didn't pursue the issue.

It was nearly dawn but since the Exciser didn't seem inclined to move, I curled up to sleep.

For the first time in a very long while, I slept without crippling hunger pangs and I slept well.