Tens grimace widened, and she let loose a roar to match Lirazs. They were eye-to-eye and hands to flesh, roaring their fury and agony right in each others faces until another set of hands seized Liraz and ripped her away, throwing her so hard into a stone wall that she blinked in and out of darkness and found herself flat on her back, gasping.
That was the end of her chance.
In and out of darkness, she felt hands seize her arms before she glimpsed the faces bent over herthe two Dracands. Their mouths were open and hissing, deeply red and reeking, as they muscled her upright once more, the fabric of her long sleeves making a poor barrier between their palms and her flesh.
Her inked flesh, her terrible hidden tally.
Once again she was eye-to-eye with Ten. The she-wolf had lost her grin and was spectacular with hatredher wolf muzzle ruched in a snarl that no human or seraph visage could ever match for viciousness. She said, Were not done with the game yet. So far Im winning, and if you dont have a turn, its hardly a game, is it? I remember you, angel, but do you remember me ?
Liraz didnt. All the kills shed sliced into her arms with campfire soot and a hot knifeat the best of times they were a blur, and now was not the best of times. How many wolf-aspect chimaera might Liraz have slain in the decades of her life? The godstars only knew. I never said Id be any good at the game, she choked out.
Ill give you a hint, said Ten. The hint was a single word, riding a snarl
of hate. It was a place.
Savvath.
The word sliced Lirazs memory open, and blood spilled out. Savvath. It was a long time ago, but she hadnt forgotten itnot the village, or what had happened just outside it. Shed just hidden it from herself, like a torn-out pageexcept that if it were a torn-out page, shed have burned it.
You couldnt burn memories.
There was the memory of what shed done to a dying enemy long ago, and there was the memory of how her brothers had looked at her after. For a long time after.
That was you? she heard herself ask, her voice hoarse. She hadnt meant to speak. It was the sickness. Her defenses were down. And it was Savvath. If the great bulk of the obscene hundreds of chimaera Liraz had slain in her life were a blur, that one wasnt, and the simple word, Savvath , brought it all back.
But something didnt match. It wasnt you, Liraz said, shaking her head to clear it. That soldier was
Fox aspect , she was going to say, but Ten cut her off. That soldier was me. It was my first death, did you know that? It was my natural flesh you desecrated, and this, of course, is just a vessel. Your game favors us , angel. How could you know who we are by looking? You dont stand a chance.
Youre right, agreed Liraz, and her head felt like a kaleidoscope of ground glasschurning, churning.
New game, said Ten, taunting. If you win, you keep your hands. All you have to do is tell me who every single one of your marks is for.
And Liraz imagined telling Hazael shed solved the puzzle of her recurring dream. How do you cut off both of your own arms?
Easy. Give a chimaera an ax.
Because there was no way she was winning this game.
Ten looked to the big beast with the ax and beckoned him forward as she said to the Dracands, Push up her sleeves.
They obeyed, and Liraz witnessed only the first gut-wrench of their staresTen actually flinched at the sight of her full tally revealedand the rest was lost to crashing darkness, like an avalanche of ash, when the Dracands seized her bare arms with their hands. Four hamsas full against her flesh. It almost meant mercy. Liraz saw the nothingness she was to become. She tipped toward it. No seraph could sustain this. She would miss her own death and that wasnt such a bad thing in the end
It cleared.
No mercy, then. Ten must have ordered the Dracands to keep her conscious, because the avalanche abated and Liraz found herself staring, up close, at the ruined skin of the handprint shed burned in the center of the she-wolfs chest. It was blistered black and seeping, the char beginning to slough off and reveal the red meat beneath. Hideous.
Go ahead, Ten commanded in a seethe of malevolence. Ill make it easier for you. Start at the end and go backward. Surely you remember the recent ones.
Lirazs answering whisper was pathetic. I dont want to play your game, she said. Something inside her was giving way. Her heartbeat felt like a childs helpless fists. She wanted to be rescued. She wanted to be safe.
I dont care what you want. And the stakes have changed. If you win, Ill have Rark make a clean cut. If you lose She bared and snapped her long yellow fangs in an exaggerated grimace that left no doubt as to her meaning. Less clean, she said. More fun. And she seized Lirazs hands and pulled her arms out taut. Lets start with me . Which one, pretty angel? Which mark is mine?
None of them, gasped Liraz.
Liar!
But it was true. If the Savvath kill were inked on her, it would be on her fingers, it was that long ago. But at the end of that day, Hazael had made a point of weighing the tattoo kit heavy in his hand and looking at hera look too long and too flat for Haz, like shed changed not just herself that day by what shed done, but him as welland then shoving it back into his pack before turning away from her.