The Wandering God

54 Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon 2/2

Hmph. I did not see what he had to be amused about. "What do you have?"

"Fish?" He said. "And... fish?" My eyes narrowed at his poor joke. "Oh, and... fish."

Hah. I had forgotten what a fool my husband had been. No. I did not miss him at all.

Thinking back over my life, it was strange. It was like I felt regret, but I could not tell for what and when. For the mistakes I had made that had led to me becoming human? For agreeing to help Yan and Lu destroy the old gods, and becoming a hated monster in a process?

For coming on land, and meeting Lu in the first place?

Or perhaps the regret I felt was not for what I had done, but for what I had not managed to do. For what I had not managed to become. I had played so many roles, done so many things. I had held so many names, worn so many masks. Guardian, mercenary, friend, monster. Goddess, wife, wanderer.

And in the end, I was still not sure who I was. I was still not sure where I belonged.

I thought suddenly of Sanli's story, of he and his mother wandering in the dark of the empire, alone and without home. I knew how the little prince had felt. Forever traveling toward something that wasn't there.

But it did not matter now. There was no point in regret. In trying to find the one thing I still missed. It was all over. I was ending. I was dying. I knew Yan's seals were not absolute. There was only so much this body could survive.

At least I was lost in this blackness, and could not feel the pain. A blessing.

Quiet, dark, blackness. It would be just like slipping to sleep.

Then in the black, light flickered.

Firelight flickered on the ruined walls of the stables. The walls, soot smeared, disappeared into blackness.

I lay beside Zakhar, on our bed of hay. The words telling the story of my life hung between us, just finished. I looked away from Zakhar. I had not looked at him the whole time I had spoken. I did not want to see his face. I knew he loved me, so he would not show disgust, but I did not want to see pity or fear or—

"That was a bloody good story."

I looked up from where I had been staring at my hands, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"I mean it was a good story. The story of your life," Zakhar said. His smile was wide, honest. "Bit sad, but to be honest, I know of sadder."

Here he winked, and I knew he meant his own story. How could he laugh about it so easily? I couldn't.

Zakhar saw the unhappiness on my face and reached out a hand, taking my own. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? Sanli and Kageyama as well. You know Sanli is dying to hear it."

I pulled my hand back. "Were you not paying attention? How could I? I killed thousands of people. The whole empire 'reviles and hates' me, just as the stories say."

Zakhar shrugged. "Who cares what the empire thinks? I like you. And I know Sanli does too. Possibly Kageyama. And you don't seem proud of what you've done."

I thought perhaps Zakhar still didn't understand. "Zakhar, I'm Liu Zhua, the Six-clawed Dragon."

"You're Ao," said Zakhar, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "You think I don't know that, after all this time traveling together?"

I did not know why, but his words caused a sob to escape my lips.

Zakhar smiled gently. He took both my hands in his, and kissed each palm.