GOT2: Terryon's Gun

VIII

Pretty and deadly, Anya Stark stomped her booted girl-leg on the bow of the boat she had commandeered to take her back home to America, gazing out across the ocean with defiance and black beauty. Now that the Man Without a Face was finally dead, she could assassinate at will across the Seven Veils and the police couldn't touch her because she was a dead girl as far as they knew, and way faster than those slow shits.

Her path was clear and her hit-list was burned into her keen Starch mind, good as she was: Princess Shirley, Johhny Lanater, the Old Dog, Brian Talbot, the others. From Kings Cross to the Old Northern Line, her pointed needle sword would prick and wreck with impunity.

'Now I am the big hitter' she whispered into the wind, 'and I will strip flesh from every back'.

She wondered if any of her kin were still living, as it had been 20 years since she had lain her young eyes on any of them and in this Midevil world that was a lifetime of disease and rot. Was Jron still her brother? Was Theo ever her brother? How much did she even hear about Robbie's war as that was a long time ago and she was being shuttled about as a boy, I don't recall? She wiped a tear away as she remembered old Rod and his neck.

But that was then, and this was her today. And family did not matter as much as cutting bad pricks right up and down.