The robed demon shrugs. "Power she has, but not of that line. Surely you saw how easily she was disarmed? The weapon does not speak to her as it does to them." A flick of its blue-scaled hand in no particular direction indicates the zhirelin standing about the room.
"And the taste of her power is different. No trace of --"
no subject
"And the taste of her power is different. No trace of --"