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Surely the gods must hear us, she thought. Sansa knew most of the hymns, and followed along on those she did not know as best she could. She sang along with grizzled old serving men and anxious young wives, with serving girls and soldiers, cooks and falconers, knights and knaves, squires and spit boys and nursing mothers.
Oriana thought this the funniest remark she'd heard all night. The women! Dwoskin declared, raising his glass. But nobody was listening. Emily, who had been lamblike so far, had suddenly taken it into her head to strip off.
For one, Tesla's car was not so hot, and it had taken quite a beating on the way down it was now much the worse for wear. For another, though she had been raised from near death by the touch of the Nuncio, it had left her with side-effects the full extent of which she didnt really grasp until they were over the border.
So what happened to his assassins? Knowing Kissoon he probably let them die in the Loop, trying to find their way out. That sort of thing would amuse him.