I looked down at the two humans under me, finding myself disappointed. “Not bandits, then?”

“No, no!” Tinir said frantically. “Adventurers, if anything. Just two friendly, harmless, trustworthy adventurers.” Her eyes pleaded with me to believe her.

My shadow moved restlessly back and forth, as though it was pacing, and I didn't bother reigning it in as I thought about what my senses had told me. There hadn't been any blood or fear in the air, no sign of a struggle at all. Just smoke, from a cooking fire, perhaps vomit — which was, Mercies help me, interesting rather than disgusting — and the very distinct smell of sex on the couple I’d considered killing.

I still hadn't made my mind up about that, either, though I did make some small adjustments: shifting to mostly take my weight off them, pulling my claws in, relaxing my grip on the woman Elem’s throat. Little things like that.

“Where are the others?”

“Away trading. Or in the longhouse sleeping off last night.” She laughed nervously. “Dar and Elem had some strong drink with them, you see, and… well.”

Trading? “You didn’t mention going to trade when I was here a few days ago.”

“It wasn't planned yet!” Her tone was frantically defensive. She was trying to talk me down. I knew that. But I didn’t want to be talked down. “When Dar and Elem found us, and offered to stay and help keep the children safe, we thought it was an excellent opportunity. Please, great lady, can you let them go?”

“Found you, huh?” I looked down at my prisoners. “How, and why, exactly, did that happen?”

The man, Darvellan, found his voice. I imagined that Elem was still a little nervous about moving her throat too much.

His voice was deep, quick and clipped. A little breathless, probably from the pressure. “You’re, ah… that was you, at the harbor, wasn't it?”

“I asked you a question,” I said, and flexed the claws holding his wife, making her give off a choked whine.

“Sorry! Please! I heard about the trouble in the north, and I was worried about my family. That’s all, I swear! I took the same way back north as I did south when I left, way back when and we just found them here!”

“That’s been going on for months! Why now?”

“You!” the woman, Elem, choked out, and I turned my attention to her, loosening my grip on her throat again. She had a slight accent, similar to the Terriallons’, marking her as Tavvanarian.

“Explain.”

“We saw you in the harbor! Scary, yeah, but we didn’t think too much of it. Or so I thought. Turns out this one’s been worrying about it for weeks. If there’s something that nasty — shit, sorry, didn’t mean anything by that. But if there was a creature like you in the city, what’s going on in the forest? That kinda thing. And he finally wore me down a week ago, we settled what we needed, and headed out a few days ago.”

I wasn’t sure if I believed them. It seemed too convenient. But it wasn’t like these were the only people ever to stumble onto the little village. Pretty much every week one or more wanderers would turn up, and either avoid the village or say hi and move on, trade, or stay the night. And if Tinir vouched for them, perhaps I should trust her. But I had to be sure.

“These two are a problem. You understand that, right, Tinir?”

“What! Why!?” she exclaimed, a look of near panic on her face as she took a step towards me. She stopped, visibly forcing herself to calm, but her voice still shook when she continued. “I mean… How so, great lady?”

“They’ve seen me here, talking to you. They’ve heard you speak to me with respect and deference. If they spread that around, if someone hears and tries to use you to get to me, you’re all in danger, yeah?”

“But… but he’s my cousin! She’s his wife! They’re family, they wouldn’t do that!”

“And if they’re careless? If they get drunk, and their tongues start wagging down at the Guild, or something like that?” I looked down at the two. “Convince me. Why shouldn’t I nip that problem in the bud and just get rid of them?”

Because of the line, Conscience reminded me. The line that we don’t want to cross. The one that we really shouldn’t cross even with Zabra and Kesra, no matter what we’ve decided. That line.

But they really were a potential problem. They could endanger the whole village. I should just kill them, I thought, and my shadow drew itself in, like it was preparing to pounce.

“Because— because…” Tinir stuttered to a halt, her eyes full of pleading, then rushed up and knelt beside me, head bowed and her baby still in her arms. Curious, frightened faces had appeared in the doorway behind her. “Please, great lady! Because they’re family, and we have lost so many already. And Dar was always a good boy, and I’ve only had him back for a few days but I’m sure that he’s as good a man as he seems, and though I’ve only known Elem since they came she’s been nothing but wonderful! I will vouch for them. I will take responsibility for them. They won’t do anything to put us or yourself in danger. I swear!”

Begging. My biggest weakness. She was even holding a baby. How was I supposed to be cruelly practical in front of a woman begging with her baby in her arms? And if that wasn’t bad enough, little Alda chose that moment to start crying.

I felt a flash of frustration, and suddenly things became crystal clear. I wanted to kill them. And not even them, specifically. I was searching for an excuse, anything good enough to convince myself just long enough to kill someone.

I stopped everything, holding myself completely still as I forced myself to analyze that. I didn’t even breathe. This was not a revelation I could put off for later. I needed to deal with this now.

It wasn't Instinct. Instinct did want to kill them, because that was the easiest solution, and long-term consequences rarely figured into what she wanted. But what I felt didn't come from her. I could always tell. Nor did it come from Conscience, who definitely and emphatically didn't want to kill them, because they hadn't done anything at all to deserve it. It came from me, the weird mish-mash brain baby that had grown out of my two halves being forced together into one head.

I’d never — since coming to Mallin — had a problem with killing, before or after the fact. I didn’t know how much of that was Instinct muting my horror and guilt. Probably a lot in the beginning, and less as time went on. But now I just wanted to kill someone. I didn’t much care who, and I didn’t like that. But I couldn’t think of any other way to relieve the frustration. I’d been fantasizing about killing Zabra for months, and now I’d been denied. Not that I couldn't just go and do it; no one would try to physically stop me. They might try to talk me out of it, but they wouldn’t get in my way. But I had promised myself and my sisters that I would trust their judgment, and Mak had said that Zabra should live if possible. Hell, Mak probably wanted to kill her worse than I did, and she still insisted on sparing the woman. Then there was the archer. After three attempts on my life I’d had him, I’d been gearing up to vent my displeasure on him, but nooo! Sempralia was right there, and I had to be reasonable and merciful and to think of my reputation.

And now I’d thought, hoped, even, that I had two new bastards in front of me, deserving of my wrath. And here Tinir was, telling me that they were family. That they were good people and could be trusted. Begging me on her knees to spare them.

I should have been relieved that all was well in the village. Instead I was just frustrated, again.

“I need an oath,” I choked out. I resisted the urge to use my shadows on them to really drive the point home. “I need you to swear that you will never speak to anyone about my relationship with this village, or do anything else that might put the people here at risk. If I even suspect the tiniest attempt to deceive me, if either of you so much as hesitates, I will kill you both, no matter who your family is. I’ve promised to do what I can to keep these people safe, and I take that promise extremely seriously. Do you understand?”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Darvellan was first to speak. I’d barely shut my mouth before he was talking. “I understand, ah, great lady! I swear, on my honor and on my life and on my love for Elem, that I won’t put my cousin or anyone else here in danger, through word or deed!”

I couldn’t tell if he was lying, of course. I wished that he would. I wished so badly that I had something similar to Mak, where I could tell what someone’s intentions were. Or even what Sempralia was rumored to have, where she could just straight up tell if someone was lying. I wished that I had something like that, and that it would tell me that he was lying through his teeth. But I didn’t, so I just had to assume that he was scared enough, and loved his cousin enough, to mean what he said. It wasn’t like I could change my mind if I acted on the alternative.

“And you, Elem?”

“Yeah, yeah, same!” As my silence and stare grew longer, she quickly added, “On my honor, and my life, and my love for Dar, I won’t do or say anything to anyone that might put these people in danger. Truly. I’d never want that anyway, but I swear it to you!”

“Fine.” I carefully transferred my weight fully to the limbs that weren’t on them, then stepped off. My shadow withdrew, turning away from me. I got the strangest feeling that it was sulking. “You can get up. Pick up your weapons if you want. They can’t hurt me anyway.”

“Gods and Mercies, thank you!” Elem said, first to scramble to her feet. She gave her hand to Darvellan, who took it and let her pull him up. They stood there, leaning on each other for support, watching me warily.

“Well?” I said as the silence began to bother me. “So you’re all hung over? That’s why you worried me enough to almost kill these two? What do you even have to get drunk on, here?”

“Ah, that, great lady, would be my fault,” Dar said, and Elem’s eyes flashed with fear and concern. “I didn’t want to arrive empty-handed. We could always provide for ourselves before I left but there was never anything stronger to drink than honey-wine, so…”

“So you brought some of Karakan’s finest, and these poor bastards never knew what hit them,” I finished for him.

“Ah, yeah, great lady. That is about the whole of it.”

“You don’t think that endangered the village? What if something happened while you were all drunk?”

“With respect, great lady,” Tinir said, “I did not drink, for the baby’s sake. And these two were quite sober when they went to… sleep. But I admit that Medalla and Sarhos may have been overly fond of the stuff.”

I looked at the two women who’d appeared in the doorway, who both looked exceedingly embarrassed.

“So it’s just you five and the kids here? Everyone else is away trading? No threats, nothing bad going on, just bad timing and unexpected visitors.”

“Yes, great lady.”

I sighed. “Fine. Whatever. Get a fire going. I brought meat to feed a village, so I hope you’re hungry.”

I didn’t bother waiting for a reply. I just walked over to my kill, taking my sweet time, and dragged it over to the fire before laying down behind the longhouse. The whole way I stewed in my own thoughts. I couldn’t deny what I’d just discovered about myself, and I didn’t like it. But the more I thought about it, the more I became convinced that there was at least one mitigating factor. I did not, in fact, just want to kill someone. When I imagined killing someone who wasn’t by any stretch of the definition an enemy, I recoiled. Even someone like Simdal, who’d been and possibly still was one of Zabra’s creatures, didn’t do it for me. I was convinced that he was permanently neutered, as far as I was concerned.

It had to be an enemy. That was the only conclusion that I could draw. I wanted someone in front of me, who was unarguably a threat to myself or those I loved, and I wanted the satisfaction of destroying them.

That felt better. It was easier to accept that some non-specific murderous need. But I still didn’t like it.

I stayed at the village for a few hours, and the people there left me to myself. But even if no one dared to approach me, I enjoyed listening to the few people holding down the fort go about their lives. On some level, I wanted to reassure myself that I could be around people. That I wouldn’t fly into a murderous rage just because someone made a loud noise and woke me from a nap, or something equally insane and ridiculous.

At least I got to enjoy being stared at by curious children. I hoped one of the two little ones would work up the courage to approach me one of these days.

Before I left I called for Darvellan and Elem. I made it very clear to them, making absolutely sure that they took me seriously, that if either of them gave me any reason at all to distrust them, I would kill them both, starting with the non-offending party. Telling them that crossing me meant that they would see the love of their life die in front of them seemed very effective. The fact that I felt like shit the whole way back to Karakan was just something I’d have to deal with.

I returned to the inn by the long way through the sewers. Herald opened an upstairs window for me, welcoming me back, telling me how worried she’d been when I didn’t come back immediately after the meeting. How Mak had reported the storm of emotions that she’d felt from me. Then she ran interference for me to let me sneak into the cellar.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” she asked, and I gave her a tired look.

“Later. Let’s deal with the Tesprils first. Could you get Mak down here?”

She didn’t need any of Mak’s advantages to pick up on my mood. “Yeah, sure. It is time to let Kesra out to talk to that Hardal guy, anyway.”

With Herald and Mak backing me up, and Kira waiting anxiously in the cellar — she realized that I was back, and she was a clever girl who knew what might happen — I stepped into the Tespril sisters’ makeshift cell. It was dark, and it smelled pretty bad, but Kesra had refused to leave her sister.

I didn’t bother with light, but they both shifted in their corner, each trying to protect the other. I guessed that they’d been sleeping. There wasn’t much else for them to do. Zabra was neither bound nor gagged, which I probably should have punished them for, but I didn’t care. I recognised the looks on their faces, the way they felt, or smelled, or however I should describe it. Zabra was done, her resolve shattered. Kesra wasn’t, but she was close, and terrified enough that she wasn’t a concern.

“Mak,” I said, and she knew what I wanted.

“Come on, Kesra,” she said. “Time to show you off to your people.”

Kesra reluctantly let go of her sister and got to her feet. She gave me a hard look, but she didn’t argue. She knew what would happen if she didn’t cooperate, and Hardal made good on his promise to attack. “I’ll be back,” she promised her sister, who watched her leave with silent desperation.

“Do you think she means it?” I asked Zabra. “Or will she take her opportunity to flee?”

“I hope she does.” Zabra’s voice was tired. “I hope she takes our money and runs as far from here as she can.”

“I could still find her.”

“Maybe. But I don’t think you will. Not if she’s no threat to you.”

“I’ve seen how much she loves you. She’ll always be a threat.”

Zabra didn’t respond. She just slumped back against the wall.

Kesra, of course, returned promptly. I would have been terribly surprised if she hadn’t. And despite her words, the relief in Zabra’s eyes when her sister came into the small room and joined her in the corner was a wonder to see.

“Now that that’s taken care of, let’s settle this.” I said. “Zabra. I want to kill you.”

They both tensed. It was the tension of two women who saw death coming and who knew that they could do nothing to stop it, but there was a subtle difference between them. Zabra looked like she just hoped that it would be over quickly. Kesra didn’t look any more hopeful but shifted to put herself between us, making herself, if not a shield, then at least a speed bump.

“I want to kill you in so many ways. I want to tear your throat out with my teeth. I want to spray your face full of my venom and watch you suffocate on the floor. I want to tear you open and spill your living guts on the forum for the crows to peck at. But I won’t do any of that. If anything, I’d give you to Mak, and it’s a coin toss whether she’d beat you to death or stab you in the belly and leave you like that until blood loss or infection got you. Understand that. I want to kill you. I want you to die.

“But we’re going to let you go.”

Zabra let out the breath that she’d been holding with a shudder. Kesra just stared at me, rapidly blinking away the silent tears of relief that started flowing.

“You are not forgiven. There will be consequences, and there will be conditions. Mak will tell you the details.”

Mak gave me a questioning look, but I had faith in her. There was no way that she hadn’t been thinking about this since the moment she decided Zabra should live.

“If you don’t accept Mak’s conditions, or if Mak tells me that you’re not being honest, or if you go back on whatever the two of you agree on at some later date, I will kill Kesra. I’ll kill her in front of you, so that she can see the person who threw her life away when I do it. I don’t want to. She’s innocent in this, but there need to be consequences, you understand? And when she is dead, when you know that the person you sacrificed your soul to protect is gone, then I’ll kill you.

“Kesra, I don’t expect you to do anything stupid enough to force me to kill you regardless of what your sister does. I honestly believe that you’re not a bad person. You just have a sister who loves you, and who doesn’t care who she hurts to protect you. But if you do, if you try to be some kind of hero, then the same applies to you. Zabra will die first. You will watch her die. Understood?”

“Yes,” Kesra whispered.

“Zabra, are you ready to listen to Mak?”

Zabra pulled her sister close. “Yeah.”

There had never been any doubt about her answer. I could feel it. Zabra was as broken as Mak or Ardek had ever been. I didn’t know if she knew that yet, but I doubted that she could, or could even want to, do anything against me now. The words were just a formality.

I turned to my sisters and switched to Tekereteki. “Deal with this. I beg you. I do not like to just drop this on you, but I am exhausted, and I think you can handle it better than I. I am going to the strongroom, and I do not want to see these two again for a long while unless it is because you need me to kill them. The key, please.”

Mak wordlessly removed the key to the strongroom from her keyring and handed it to me, and I left the four of them there, in the dark.