Alizome raises her eyebrows at how quickly and eagerly Xarces goes down, though she doesn't suppose she should be that surprised. He probably, she concludes while staring at the barely-there bulge he makes in the priestess, has some plan that needed him in there, and anything she did but watch the swollen woman and enjoy the voyeuristic thrill of the show would just interfere. Best to wait to see if this ritual built to some crescendo and then interrupt it as spectacularly as she could, then run like hell; or wait for the others to make their usual herd-of-elephants-stampeding loud approach and draw off a few warriors before engaging. She was pretty sure Xarces would last that long.