The Ghost Tiger's Lament

Chapter Three

She looked up. Zsaran’s eyes were grave, despite the irreverence in her words. Ashne knew she must have arrived at the same conclusion.

The queen. They must go to the queen. Ashne should not have left her with the king unattended, safer though she might be outside the palace grounds, so far from the site of this attack. Zsaran could not have known; perhaps even Shranai did not. Only Ashne had. Yet she had panicked, and in a single moment, unthinking, come flying here to face the unknown instead.

“We have to go back,” she said. “Now. The lady —”

But before she could finish, shouts of alarm sounded nearby. All three of them tensed, swords and staff at the ready.

Two familiar figures tore into the clearing, blue robes fluttering behind them like wings, faces pale with fright.

“The princess!”

“She’s gone!”

“She was right there —”

“We were right there —”

“She was having nightmares, she said. Told us take her out for some fresh air —”

“Then the bells —”

“I told her to wait with Lum while I investigated —”

“But then something attacked us —”

“We tried to fight back —”

“It all happened so fast —”

“Stop!” barked Shranai, glaring from one twin to the other. “You foolish children!”

She ran off in an unbalanced lope, in the direction of the princess’s quarters.

Zsaran said, voice lowered, expression focused but calm, “You said something attacked you. Do you mean your assailant was not human?”

Ashne turned, startled.

Nalum, whose hair flew about in greater disarray than her sister’s, replied meekly, “I don’t know.”

“We couldn’t tell. We couldn’t see,” offered Jenhra. “It felt like something big and heavy held us in place. It was hard to breathe. Everything seemed so loud...”

Despite their training, the girls were inexperienced. Small wonder that they should freeze up now.

Ashne had no such excuse.

“We have to go,” she said again. She turned to Zsaran. “The lady — she went to see the Lord Speaker. I saw her when I was heading to the stables. I should have stayed with them. I —”

Zsaran silenced her with a firm but gentle grip on her shoulder. “It’s all right.” To the twins she said, “Go help Shranai!” before turning back to Ashne with a nod. “Let’s go.”

But even as she spoke, a pack of soldiers rushed in, spears clattering.

“What’s going on?” demanded the one at their head.

Zsaran gestured impatiently at the bodies. “Intruders.”

“We know that. But who —”

There was a disturbance among their ranks as another newcomer shoved past and strode out from the shadows.

Thin but wiry Minister Aorang, hair rumpled, robes askew under hastily-donned armor.

He took one sharp glance at the gathering, muttering, “Where is that useless son of mine when you need him?”

Then he swerved to face Ashne and Zsaran, eyes glinting dark gold, expression suddenly wild, frightening. “Where is the lady? Should you not be with her?!”