Eden by Keith; Korman

the woman’s scent filled Eden’s head. The smell of disgrace clung to her skin as though she lived among refuse, spoiled fish heads and moldy cloth—along with the stench of abandon, the stink of men waiting at her dwelling either in shame or lust or just because they knew she was there. For all travelers crossed her threshold, her doorway open to all comers.
    Eden could see the place, a room of squalor, harsh perfume, stained curtains and threadbare pillows. A place where candle wax pooled on the tables, spilled wine on the floor and sweat filled the air. But that was just a scent that clung to a person, not her insides.
    The woman herself did not smell of evil, just desperation and loneliness. Come to grovel and beg for her life. Eden did not clearly understand the woman’s sin, but in her own way Eden understood why the crowd was angry. The woman had sinned against the pack and now the pack had turned on her.
    Eden faced the mob. The dog bared her teeth, her fur bristled and she growled low.
    â€œNo closer! None of you!”
    Eden spied their Adversary slyly grinning at her from behind two caravan slaves. Oh, yes, he remembered her well .
    The first stone hit Eden as she stood over the broken woman, making her yelp. But she didn’t run. The Hollow Man sneered, and picked up another stone. The woman cowered at their master’s feet; she clasped his muddy ankles. Her frantic fingers picked at his worn sandal, as if the thin leather thongs might save her as she waited for the next blow. Any moment there’d be another stone, and then another, and then a dozen.
    Eden growled again and stood her ground.
    The mob’s wrath caught in its throat. They held their stinking breath.
    And no stone flew. Instead they shuffled back.
    Because of a growling dog? Or because Eden’s master refused to leave the woman’s side, standing over them both? He reached down to the woman picking at his feet, took her hands from his sandals and then raised her up as she clutched his mud-splattered robe. He wiped the tears from her streaked face with the hem of her sleeve. But in total defeat, the woman sank to her knees, clutching a length of his cloak simply to steady herself.
    A man in the front of the crowd raised a fist with a stone inside.
    Eden could see their Adversary breathing words at the back of his head.
    Yet something in her master’s manner made the man pause. The rock weighed his hand down to his side. Eden pushed up against the woman, sheltering her. The dog could feel her body tremble. Their master stood his ground and reached into his purse. Searched for a moment and brought forth the two small stones: the black stone, white inside—and the white stone, its insides black.
    He held the two small stones in his open palm; presenting them before the arc of ugly faces.
    As if to say, Take mine .
    As if to say, Use them first on me .
    The mob held back, afraid to move. But the Hollow Man was not through prodding them. The clever creature kept whispering from ear to ear, the angry crowd reacting with every word. Eden could feel him too, his false smiles and doubting frowns, whatever served his purpose, offering false courage like bad wine. And soon the wretched faces began to laugh. To sneer. What harm from two little pebbles? Let this muddy wanderer throw. Go ahead throw, Wise Man. There’s nothing you can do to us .
    As if in answer her master gently cast the two stones upon the muddy street.
    The two stones rolled beside a brown puddle. Rubbed together for so long you could plainly see the black inside the white stone and the white inside the black.
    Pick up mine , he seemed to say.
    Use my two stones .
    But no one moved to take them.
    The false courage in this pack of humans began to wither.
    â€œGo on!” the Hollow Man hissed from deep within the crowd. “What are you waiting for?”
    Eden’s master stood his ground.
    The rain began to lighten as rivulets ran down the