Excerpt from TERRA

Again a wave of homesickness came over me. I shouldn't be here, wearing this stupid robe, lying in this uncomfortable bed.
Like the night before, I must have fallen asleep eventually. And like the night before, I awoke to see someone standing in the doorway.
But this time it wasn't Palta staring at me. This time it was Gratius, and he was holding a gun.
"Don't be afraid," he whispered. "We must rescue Affron and Valleia."
I poked Carmody, who was instantly awake.
Gratius repeated what he had said. He motioned with the gun. "We must go. Now."
"Where are they?" Carmody asked him.
"In prison. In the palatium. Come."
"I suggest we obey him, Larry," Carmody said. "What have we got to lose?"
We quickly got out of bed and put on our sandals. In the moonlight coming in through our small window I got a better look at the gun. It was strange—the shape wasn't quite right. It didn't seem to have a trigger, and the barrel was a little too thin. And the metal glowed a soft blue in the moonlight.
Was this the weapon Valleia had told Carmody about?
When we had our sandals on, Gratius led us out into the atrium.
...just in time to see a lamp come on in Hypatius's cubiculum. He appeared in the doorway a moment later. His hair was messy; his robe was rumpled; his eyes were bloodshot. He set the lamp down on a table in the atrium and stared at Gratius—stared at the gun.
"Oh dear," he said. "Oh my."
He and Gratius started talking to each other in Latin. Gratius gestured with the gun; Hypatius shook his head.
"I forbid it, my friend," Hypatius said finally in English. "It cannot be done. It isn't right. I know that this business with Affron is not proceeding the way you would like, but you will destroy us all."
It was at this point that I noticed Palta, her arms folded, standing in the shadows of the atrium just outside her cubiculum. Gratius had his back to her, and Hypatius didn't notice her because Gratius was in the way. She was listening intently to their conversation.
And then she started walking slowly forward, towards Gratius.
I stared at her. Should I say something? Should I try to stop her? She glanced at me, and then looked back towards Gratius.
She was staring at the gun in his hand. In her own hand was a small knife.
The argument between Gratius and Hypatius lapsed back into Latin and continued. Gratius looked upset. Hypatius looked frightened. Gratius began to speak...
And then Palta leaped forward and stabbed his hand. Gratius yelped in pain and dropped the gun. She grabbed it and scampered back away from him, brandishing it at us. She said something to Gratius and motioned to him to move aside. He did as he was told.
She aimed the gun at Hypatius.
Hypatius extended his hands and spoke to her in Latin—gently, as if explaining to her the mistake she was making. His face was sweating; his hands were shaking.
"Diabolus," she hissed. And then there was a brief low hum, an even briefer flash of light from the barrel of the gun, which turned a deep blue. Hypatius's body glowed a brilliant white for a moment, hands outstretched, mouth open to reply....
And then his body disappeared.
There was a bitter smell in the air. On the tiled floor of the atrium where Hypatius had stood was a small heap of ashes.
He was gone. Totally gone.