The Ghost Tiger's Lament

Chapter Twenty-Three

Braksya grabbed her arm, wrenching her away from the scene.

“Well, that was interesting,” he said as they ran.

He could not have understood a single word the queen had spoken, but she did not doubt that the sentiment behind his remark held true, and it took some time before she could formulate a reply. “I thought you’d betrayed me again.”

He shrugged. “I wished to see if I could finally leave.” Perhaps out of some strange consideration for her, he continued his explanation without prompting. “Ever since I set my hands on that damned scabbard, I have been unable to pass the borders of Awat.”

“And so?” she asked, his words barely registering. “Can you, now?”

“Yes.”

That gave her pause. “Why did you return?”

“I do so dislike leaving behind unfinished business.” After a pause, he added, “And, after all, it was still my scabbard.”

“Not anymore.”

“No,” he agreed. “Not anymore.”

When she did not respond, he said, “I had always wanted to see the other world for myself. It is all I have wanted, ever since hearing of the sword Hazsam and its humble scabbard. When the scabbard fell into my hands...”

Still she said nothing.

“The spirit paths brush against both worlds, but just barely,” he murmured then. “They exist only in the spaces in between... And no paths exist that lead to the dead.”

“The Night of Ghosts. You knew they would take action tonight.” The night the realms drew near.

She did not ask if he had found what he was looking for.

“I suspected,” he admitted, and then, to her surprise, said, “I’m sorry. I should have told you, when I realized the princess was a sorceress.”

She stopped. “You what?”

He slowed to a stop beside her. “I did not think you would react well.”

“I would have refused to believe you,” she replied, as the last of the pieces fell into place. The insects. The fear. Laughter escaped from her mouth, sudden, desperate, gasping. “They all assumed the rumors pointed to a man, that he was not one of ours... When did you realize the truth?”

“I considered the possibility early on in my search, but dismissed it. This little one —” a small forked tongue flicked out from his sleeve “— found no traces of the trail, even with that jade comb you picked up. True, most of the deaths were in the vicinity of the capital at first, but not all of them were. And true, it has always been said that the southern kings possessed some ability to communicate with the other world. But it is not an ability that has surfaced in many generations.”

“Then...”

“On the return journey. When she grabbed the sword during the chaos by the lake — in that moment, I realized. The call of residual power within your wound was strong, but in her it was stronger. Hazsam responded to her, as it had responded to the prince. On the way back, she tried to hide it, but knowing now of the truth, I could sense it regardless.” He barely hesitated before continuing, mild distaste entering his voice for the first time. “She is powerful. So powerful that her lifestreams are interwoven into the very fabric of our world, or I should have noticed it sooner. I do not know if it is due to her blood or to the nature of her contract, or both. Frankly speaking, I do not even know if she is contracted. It seemed far more likely that she were but an innocent victim, barely aware of her own strength, rather than actively cooperating with that tiger mercenary of yours. Else I doubt your little war with Nua would have lasted so long.” He exhaled. “I assumed, at any rate, that she posed no more threat after what transpired at Gokho Lake. And I must confess, I was too disappointed in the results of my personal search to consider the matter of importance any longer. I was mistaken.”