gaze travels from the gleaming gold on my boot to where it tethers around a stone pillar. It then travels over to my other ankle, another pillar, and back behind me. As my head slowly lifts, I become aware that I am hanging in the middle of a round stone room. There are more stone pillars scattered around the space, and the shimmering plait is draped and stretched between them like vines on a tree. I am uncertain if it is the pain deceiving me or if the plait itself is undulating as if breathing. My head droops again, and that’s when I notice the blood splattered beneath me. Another drop falls from my hairline to meet the puddle forming below. My insides churn, and then I am violently retching. Every convulsion causes my joints to twist and stretch. Once the gagging dissipates, my vision blurs again, and I am on the brink of unconsciousness when the source of the soft song steps into view. Veiled in a thin white dress, she slowly makes her way out of the shadows and crosses the room toward me. The end of her plait is razor sharp and slithering along beside her. Once in front of me, she reaches out a pale hand, and a dagger-like claw extends from her 昀椀ngertip. She drags it down my torso, splitting both fabric and skin. For the 昀椀rst time in all my life, I scream in terror. She looks up, and this time she truly does smile at me, revealing two rows of razor-sharp teeth. PLAINS PARADOX ■ 82