...She came in the third hour of darkness, when the victim had already called out to gentler powers and received no answer. The injustice had been complete, the crime unpunished, the guilty walking free and smiling. Vengeance did not ask whether this was justified or righteous by abstract standard, she simply balanced the scales. The guilty would know what it was like to be hunted as they had hunted. They would lose what they had stolen. They would stand before what they had destroyed. It would not bring peace. It would not heal the wound. But it would settle the debt, and sometimes that was all the owed could ask for. She moved through the night like smoke, like memory made terrible and purposeful, and everything she touched burned with cold fire until the accounts balanced and she could move on to the next unopened wound crying out for the only witness who would not look away...