![]() ![]() But he could do things other than fight them. He’d just want to kill these would-be assassins and then he wouldn’t be able to do the least bit of harm. Ragan would be useless in a fight he’d never learned to temper his emotions. Her other hand found the cudgel at her belt. He’d grown to the size of a pony and looked quite intimidating now, but he still cowered around men. ![]() Better if the creature could calm down enough to help them. Lozhi pressed against her side and Nisong stroked the beast’s cheek absentmindedly. The command Lin had placed in him always stopped him. His intention was always to kill, never to injure – in this way he was so predictable. She’d only laughed he couldn’t do anything more than apply light pressure to her neck. Nisong could still feel his fingers around her throat as he’d threatened her after that first time, trying to force her to do what he’d asked. She knew by now how quickly he could turn from kindness to anger if she didn’t give him what he wanted. Still, she resisted removing the shard that Lin had placed into Ragan’s body. “Do you want to be responsible? How can I defend myself if I cannot kill those who would kill me?”īy then, she’d had to readjust her viewpoints. “They’ll come for me next,” he’d said, drunk, tears in his eyes, his hands held out to her. When they’d heard of the tenth Alanga death, he’d begged and pleaded. Admittedly, she’d at first dismissed his insistence that someone was hunting down the Alanga. They’d have sat in their little campsite in the Alanga ruins, the sky slowly going dark, blissfully unaware of the people sneaking up on them, arguing until their throats were slit. If it had been raining, she wouldn’t have heard that first cracking twig. ![]() For a moment, he was blessedly silent and then she heard it again – the soft brush of bodies slithering through underbrush. Nisong clenched her teeth until she felt they might crack. If you don’t take it out, we’ll both die here.” This was the only lever she held over him. There had been a few times she’d considered doing so, but each time she’d stopped. But she was the only one other than Lin who could remove the shard from his body and she dangled this knowledge like a fishing lure, teasing and pulling away, waiting for him to finally bite. He’d fought her every step of the way, convinced he didn’t need to rely on anyone, least of all a construct. It had taken a long time for them to come to an understanding. He hadn’t been wearing the monk’s robes anymore he’d traded those in for farmer’s clothes – all in brown and faded white, with a straw hat to hide his face. He’d smelled of sour sweat, his once-shorn hair grown over his ears. She’d tracked him to a drinking hall, though it had taken her a moment to recognize him. Several months of scraping by, of avoiding discovery, of frenzied searching in the midst of grief. She wanted to walk away and to keep walking until she had no idea where she was or where he was, no matter how hard she’d worked to find him after the battle at Gaelung. “Quiet.” Lozhi crouched on her other side in the ruins, a soft whine in his throat. She clutched his arm, pulling him close so she could whisper into his ear. “I told you they’d be after me,” Ragan hissed. But she hadn’t counted on it coming for her throat. She was even used to having death follow her from place to place, content as a pup on the heels of its master. ![]()
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