“So there you have it, Flying-blade,” I tell the Pathwalker still glaring up at me from where my Bond is keeping her pinned in place. “None of those who know me far better than you do are remotely concerned about either the Bond or my future intentions towards your People.”

  My words are not only directed at the lead Pathwalker, but at all those she brought with her too. And they seem to be having an effect. I don’t know what she told this group of samurans who came with her, but they clearly seem to be feeling far more uncertain about it all now. I guess that it’s sobering enough to be defeated in battle and realise that their lives are in my hands; it’s even more so to recognise that the attack might have been based on a lie. Or an overreaction at least.

  Because, despite what Windy says, I can feel the sincerity with which Flying-blade speaks – she genuinely believes that I pose a threat to her people, even if she’s propelled more by rage and humiliation than rationality.

  You’re an abomination! she spits, apparently not creative enough to think of anything else to say.

  “I’m a Tamer,” I correct. “As I said before. Just because my Taming Skills happen to be different from those samuran beast tamers generally have access to doesn’t change the fact that my own Skills have the same roots. My Bindings touch the soul, yes, but they do not consume it. And only forcible breaking of a Bond does more than leave a light mark which will only take as long to fade as the longing for the person in question.”

  I’m guessing a little bit here, but I’m fairly sure that I’m right, based on what I’ve seen when I’ve released Bonds with my various Bound. Out of them all, River had the most damage when I released her from her Dominate Bond, which makes sense when Kalanthia’s concerns about leaving the Bond on Lathani are taken into account.

  Flying-blade doesn’t seem to be convinced. In fact, despite everything we’ve said, I’m pretty sure that she is still at least halfway certain that I’m somehow concealing and using one of these artifacts rather than my own Skills. I decide not to push it. I don’t need to.

  The fact is that as my anger cools, I’m unable to push away that pity I did my best to avoid earlier. In seeking to destroy me, Flying-blade has instead led to her own downfall. Because sure as anything, I’m not going to be letting her go back to her village and plot behind my back. Instead, even if I decide to let her live, she’ll be here, working for the good of my village to pay for the damage she’s done. And one day, whether or not I’m here to see it, she’ll come to realise how stupid she was to let her fear and anger rule her on this day.

  In fact, arguably, if I truly was the monster that she thought I was, she has just given me even more power – over twenty more Warriors and six more Pathwalkers for my ranks. Fortunately for her, I’m not a soul-stealing demon, planning on sweeping across the valley in a wave of conquest. But if I had been, her bungled plan would have just given me power.

  Perhaps she sees something of that in my eyes or feels it in the Bond between us as she’s unable to meet my eyes, no matter how much I feel that she wants to.

  Deciding that I’ve dug into her motivations as much as I need to, I redirect the interrogation down a different route.

  “Tell me, what exactly was your plan? Who helped you? And is there anyone else likely to attack us in the near future to your knowledge or best guess? And don’t even think about leaving anything out.” After all, time is marching on and my den isn’t the most comfortable of places for a whole village’s worth of people. But before I send anyone back down to the village, I want to be sure that it’s safe to do so.

  There is no one else, she replies, her tone an odd mixture of angry and mournful. You flaunted what you were at the Festival, daring to claim under tamer privileges a warband party where the Hunt should have been limited to you alone. Yet no one else was able to see that a humble tamer with an oddly-evolved ability was the last thing that you were. Only myself and my tribe’s leader. And, I will admit, only when I showed her what I had found in the Great beast’s lair.

  I frown and she seems to sense my confusion, flashing me an unreadable look. Yes, the ancestors which had blessed my search and led me to a lair which contained another Great beast’s Core, also led me to a clue which warned me of the threat that you posed to us all.

  I might not have thought of it myself had my leader not reminded me of that old, almost-forgotten tale – shared upon our sixth Festival and then never spoken of again. But when I realised, I knew I had to prevent you from becoming a threat who could sweep across the valley like the very life-devourer you dare to use.

  “And so what did you do?” I ask sharply, not wanting her to dissolve into pointless insults again or start ranting about me being a monster again. “Who did you tell? Did you show the artifact to anyone else?”

  Flying-blade laughs mirthlessly.

  Show it to anyone else, and risk them becoming corrupted by it in the way that you have corrupted others? No. Others may have caught a glimpse – that is inevitable – and I did discuss it in general terms with our allies in the village you attacked, but I did not show it to any more than my tribe’s leader. It was advice that was unnecessary for her to give – I already knew the importance of secrecy.

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  “I didn’t attack any village,” I remind her icily. “They attacked me on your orders!” I remind her. I calm myself. “Continue. What did you do next?” She clamps her teeth angrily together and then gives in when the Bond forces her to. I suddenly wonder if her previous jab was an intentional attempt to derail my questioning with anger. If so, I wonder what she’s trying to hide.

  My leader couldn’t openly attack you – doing so would have caused an inter-tribal war, something that neither of us wanted. It thus fell on me to somehow destroy your power base, discover the source of your corrupting power, and kill you without the outward support of my leader.

  A frown presses a line between my eyes. The actions of the leader of the red tribe all seem very…reasonable. And her desire not to instigate an inter-tribal war makes sense – my Pathwalkers all seemed very wary of that possibility. But I can’t help feeling that the red leader has come up far too many times in this tale so far for comfort. Maybe she truly was just an advisor. But then again, maybe not.

  Perhaps I need to think on this later when I’ve had some time to rest and get to a better mindset – now that my anger has cooled, I realise just how compromised by rage, grief, and fatigue my judgement has become. I suppose I should just be glad that I didn’t kill Flying-blade as I was very tempted to do earlier. I need to sleep on it before I can make such potentially vital decisions such as whether to risk keeping her alive so she can work to make up for her crimes, or be rid of her and the danger she poses.

  Flying-blade hasn’t realised that I was distracted and has continued talking, but I tune in quickly enough that I don’t think I’ve missed anything important.

  Despite my efforts I wasn’t able to convince anyone at the Festival to ally with me – the shame your efforts brought on me was too great. She glares at me again. I grin toothily back at her. I had to change my plans and settle for a village too weak to even make it to the Festival, their only advantages being that they were close to your village and weak enough that you might be willing to go to its aid – if they offered enough of a boon on the asking.

  And despite the fact that you fell for the trap, despite the scouts who watched every move your villagers made for cycles, despite the timing of our attack planned for when your village was at its weakest with almost all of its protectors far from home, despite our perfect slaughter of your scouts so that your village would have no warning…still, we were only able to take one hostage, and you reappeared before we could negotiate the rest of them into submission!

  She looks on the point of exploding to her feet from sheer spite until I twist the Bond wordlessly to keep her on the ground. I think grimly that at least I now know why the alarm wasn’t given – more deaths to add to Flying-blade’s tally. And to my conscience since it’s been very clear that this invasion is in direct response to my choices.

  But for now, I need to find out as much information as I can.

  “And in the event of your failure, what were the intentions? Did you leave any of your…warband in the forest to take word of the battle to your village? Or to your leader?”

  Flying-blade scoffs. I did not have the numbers for that. There were only a limited number of Warriors I could take from my village without leaving it completely defenceless – especially when I took almost half of my Pathwalkers, and the most combat-capable at that. My leader didn’t dare offer me Warriors either, for fear that they might be used to declare an inter-tribal war, though she allowed me to persuade two of her own Pathwalkers to join me.

  The red leader again. And looking at Healer, I wonder how much of it truly was persuasion – from Flying-blade’s side at least.

  “Then there are none waiting to take the word back to anyone about the failure of the battle?”

  No, she answers, her eyes flashing defiantly. Fortunately, the Bond tells me that she’s being honest.

  “And any backup plans?” I check, though I suspect I know her answer – for all the apparent scouting she did ahead of her attack, this seems to be almost as badly thought-out as her attempt to shame my village by calling for a Hunt was.

  I did not think they were necessary, she tells me, sounding almost proud of the fact. Either we would succeed, or we would die in the attempt.

  I shake my head, my remaining anger fading to a dull sort of disbelief that so many could have died to such an inconsistent sort of tactician. Had she not even considered the thought that she might be taken prisoner? Considering that she thought I used one of these control stones, she should have been aware of the possibility at the least.

  Still, I’m glad that we’re not facing an imminent attack. At least, not one of Flying-blade’s making. Something is telling me that this isn’t all over yet, though. Perhaps that’s just my desire not to draw a line under those who died and say that it’s finished, though, as if that would make them truly dead. As if it makes any difference.

  I don’t think I’m going to get much more out of Flying-blade and I have others to deal with – all my people crowded around the group; all the captured Warriors and Pathwalkers.

  “Stay there. Don’t move,” I order Flying-blade, using the Bond to enforce my order, pressing my intentions into it. If I didn’t do that, I might accidentally stop her from breathing. As it is, she will be able to shift a little bit, especially for necessary movements like breathing, but not stand up or move in the way of anyone else. I’ll figure out what to do with her later.

  “Pathwalkers,” I say to those subdued and on the ground, their mana still inhibited by the poisons they have been injected with. “I will give you the same choice I gave those of your sisters who your leader convinced to aid her in her schemes. You may surrender right now to me, and accept my Bond, swearing to work towards the benefit of the village you attacked.. Or you can die, the penalty your crimes against me and mine deserve.”

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