dead

the deed. The

hand between thumb and finger smashed into the priest's throat like a sledge.
The priest was almost dead already, from a snapped spine as well as a collapsed windpipe, but the Wind was in full fury now. The monsoon, by its nature, heaps havoc onto ruin. The terrible hands did their work. The left seized the priest's hair, positioned him; the right, iron palm-heel to the fore, shattered his nose and drove the broken bone into the brain. All in an instant.
The Wind raged across the domed hall, down a corridor.
The end of that short corridor ended in another. Down the left, a short distance, stood the door to the princess' suite. Before that door stood three mahamimamsa. (He had only stationed two; three were too many for the narrow space, simply impeding each other.)
The Wind raced down the corridor. The time for silent wafting was over. A guard had but to look around the bend. (He had stationed one of his two guards at the bend itself, always watching the hall;