Naya swings the bronze heel high above her head and strikes at the cracked earth before her feet. With each blow, she imagines herself not standing on a stony field, but on Hilas' bare back, and the point of her heel not piercing the ground, but his warm flesh. As soon as that fiery hatred is extinguished, she is lost. Then her spirit will fade, and she will be indistinguishable from Hilas' human male and female slaves. If it ever comes to that for her, the path to her old life is forever closed. That thought almost takes Naya's breath away.