It was the first time Hazahnahkah had ever lost a fight.

  The Sword awoke to the taste of iron and dust. His body—or rather Hwayoung’s—was a map of ruin. The world swayed as if hung by a thread—each breath a fracture in his ribs, each pulse of his heart a drumming headache. His fingers twitched toward the hilt of his sword. His old blade body lay beside him, riddled with gaping holes. It was as if serpents had burrowed through him and took shelter in his corpse.

  Those terrible terrible holes.

  Mercy. The word curdled in Hazahnahkah’s throat. Better to have died than to live as proof of her victory, but that wouldn’t have just killed him. Hwayoung was now a hostage. He tried to rise. His limbs betrayed him, folding like wet parchment. Somewhere beyond the tent flaps, laughter rang out—a woman’s, but not Knife’s, bright and unburdened. Hazahnahkah closed his eyes and let the darkness take him again. He almost hoped it’d keep him.

  The world came back in fragments—the ache of his skull, the bloody mucus congealing on his tongue with every sloppy breath, the hot seep of blood between his fingers where they clutched his ribs. Yes, he could still grip, still move. This wasn’t over yet. He was injured but he could still find Ysan, or even better, Bankanzaku. Hazahnahkah didn’t need to reach Ysan, he just needed to be sure that she was safe. The problem was that this place seemed so far apart from where he had been just moments ago. It was tranquil. Everything was sleeping. Only circular springs stirred the valley fog with noise. Hazahnahkah whispered hoarsely.

  “Hwayoung, can you hear me?”

  Nothing. No feelings, thoughts, or worse arose from her body. Hazahnahkah was scared. His First Terror only seized control of the physical organism. It didn’t affect her mind or soul in any way. Knife had done something to more than just his Ramble. She had affected Hwayoung.

  Hazahnahkah crawled up, surveying the silence. No signs of Knife. Nor her dreamers. Bankanzaku had been heading towards the monolith but Hazahnahkah couldn’t even see the sky now. He never thought there’d be a time he wanted to.

  But even though it wasn’t there, things rained from it. Not water, tufts of fur, dipped in red. Perhaps they weren’t as far from the aftermath as he had thought. Hazahnahkah swept himself into the shadows, stilled his breath, and traveled only where the bamboo stalks groaned loudest. If he was careful not to bend them, nobody would find him here, and Bankanzaku’s carelessness was easy to follow. The stalks had a preference to lean away from each other in a long dark narrow path with a pool at the end of it. With a bowed head, bloodied arm, and nothing other than Lahahm’s spearpoint impaled through its back, was the White Tiger.

  Bankanzaku.

  Hazahnahkah should have realized many things sooner than he had. “It’s you.” He raised his sword, what was left of it was ruined, but it was still enough to cut the man’s throat, or the tiger’s, or whatever shape he misused to betray. “You dare attack me after what pain you’ve caused Ysan, Ul, and so many others. You should know your place!”

  The White Tiger barely reacted. It, after a long while, did that thing cats did when tired. Or sleepy. Or safe. Its eyes opened and closed with a silly slowness. It looked down into the pool it drank then back up again, and left, its tail rising high above a puckered butthole as if to say “screw you”.

  “Screw you!” Hazahnahkah snarled, managing to jog despite the limp. He could not use his Second Terror to reverse the damage, nor his Third Terror to transport himself. He was forced to use his legs, and right now they weren’t very good. He quickly lost against the tiger’s four and was left standing in the mist.

  There was no more bamboo to hide in. Everything was visible, but only white was there. It was a very naked feeling. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like that he had forced Hwayoung into this position, but what could he have done? Even now, Ysan could have been close, and Bankanzaku… Or even Knife. If Knife could not find him or Hwayoung, would she kill Ysan in their place? There had to be a way to barter with her. To give her the revenge she hungered for. Or maybe this was enough. Maybe she was appeased, and that was why they were alive now.

  Hazahnahkah was shoved from behind, he whipped at the air behind him but the figure was too low. Bankanzaku was smaller now, and behind him. Chuffing. Chuffing loudly. It was a sickeningly affable noise from a man who had done sickening things. Before Hazahnahkah could retaliate, Bankanzaku’s pale form submerged into the mist, rippling its white surface as his form emerged above a series of steep cliffs. Like a ghost. Could his Ramble do this too? No, there were more of him now. Or they weren’t him at all. Where there sat one massive, phantom feline, now stood three... then five... then more. Their forms blurred at the edges, as if the valley's perpetual fog couldn’t decide whether to conceal or reveal that they were actually there.

  Of course the one with the wound seemed more real than the others. Bankanzaku was among them. His eyes were closed now, but the sable gleam beneath where his paw raked across the earth were clear and open—tiger’s talon. They withdrew as he rumbled, as if he knew he’d lose that fight. “What do you want with me, Sword?”

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  It was ironic that within this pale realm of obscurity that Hazahnahkah could witness more of Bankanzaku than he ever had before:

  Health (source of vitality and abilities): 200,680,000

  Energy (source of stamina and abilities): 395,000,000

  Agility (speed of actions): 101,000

  Regeneration (rate of recovery per hour for Health and Energy): 500,000,000,000

  Tenacity (resistance to unwanted effects): 900,000

  Strength (physical or mental reality manipulation potency): 96,600

  [Bankanzaku’s Abilities]

  Fleshcoat: Cloaked in an unknown biological layer, masking its full potential. Damage dealt to Health may instead be absorbed by Energy.

  Shapeshifter: Can alter physical shape at will. Can transform into a [White Tiger].

  Devourer: Gains abilities or attributes from creatures it consumes.

  Anti-Incarnate: Triples Strength against Incarnates.

  Tiger Talon: Weaponless melee attacks steal Health equal to damage dealt.

  Seven Chances: When reduced to 0 Health, remains at 1 Health instead. Can trigger up to 7 times per hour; resets hourly.

  Poison of The Tenth God: Any attacks inflicted by this creature can spread a shadow across objects or targets. These stripes are closer to a curse than a poison, dealing damage up to 1% of its Strength per stack per minute. Damage varies widely. Caps at 10 stacks.

  [Bankanzaku’s Conditions]

  Misogynist: Bankanzaku deals and takes double damage from females.

  Orphanspawn Bane: Bankanzaku deals and takes double damage from humans.

  Hazahnahkah tried not to show disgust. He didn’t want to wrinkle Hwayoung’s face. “I should not be surprised you copied an animal as regal and numerous as this.”

  “These tigers accepted me for who I am, and so I betrayed myself to suit them… You didn’t answer my question, Sword.”

  “I’m here to kill you.”

  “After I saved your slave?” Bankanzaku reared his head towards a ledge along the cave. Lazul was resting inside the stone hollow, his cane against a stalagmites. He was surprisingly uninjured.

  “You were working with Knife. You think one good act erases an entire life of evil?”

  Bankanzaku purred. “I don’t believe in such a thing.”

  “What?”

  “Evil.”

  “It is easier to believe in what you want to believe when it’s about yourself.”

  “Spare me the philosophical rantings, Sword. If you want to kill me here and ignore my gesture of goodwill, fine. But know this. If you attack me I will bite Lazul’s neck. That much, I can do. Then you can decide whether two deaths are better than none, deathbringer.”

  “YOU CAUSE DEATH!” Hazahnahkah exploded, and the tigers scrambled. They panicked up walls, into water, and vanished past the pale shroud. “YOU CAUSED ALL OF THIS.”

  “Still blaming me for my children’s decisions, is that it?”

  Hazahnahkah surged forward at the tiger. “Ysan’s arm! Ul’s child! You had a deal and you abandoned them, just like you abandoned your kids! You turned your back as easily as you turned your swordcoat to Knife! You tricked us! You brought us to this place, and now this is your fault! Everything!”

  “I was threatened. I had no choice. Fighting Vrast or Yurreth is a fool’s errand.”

  Bankanzaku’s little story did not appease Hazahnahkah, but it was probably true. He winced at the thought this man was somehow a victim. Knife however, was the current problem now. “You say they take you hostage, then you must know how Yurreth is involved with my sister? Is this really all just for vengeance?”

  “Your sister? I do think you mean your wife.”

  It seemed like Knife had used her dreams to feed more than one lie. Everything always led back to Knife. All the legends, stories, gossip… who knew how far they all stretched back to her dreams… Hazahnahkah snarled at the thought. She didn’t speak to Hazahnahkah with the dreams. Not since that first one. Nor did she speak to him in waking. Mercilessly she had trapped him in this body without anything other than what seemed like pure unbridled hatred. Whatever Knife was slandering him about now would be a problem for the future him.

  “I don’t care for lies, tiger. Knife has brought you to her dreams and you have knelt your head to drink them. I chased you and her here, and who knows… maybe every single face I’ve ever seen along the way has already been possessed by Knife’s devisings… maybe my sister is feeding dreams to the entirety of Serpent’s Ramble.”

  “Now… you’re getting it.”

  “That Knife is utterly mad?”

  “... I don’t think she’s mad at all. In fact, I might think I hold the highest respect for her… more than any other person in Serpent’s Ramble. Your wife is good.”

  “Knife nearly had you slain. Lahahm’s face sits in your flesh even now.”

  “I like honest people.”

  A strange sputter slipped up Hazahnahkah’s throat. It was a kind of vibration he never would have been able to replicate, even if his Third Terror worked. Surprise. He didn’t understand the mechanics of how her organism could make a noise that mirrored his inner world so well.

  Hazahnahkah still believed the best thing to do here was to kill Bankanzaku. To end this spiraling tale. But the White Tiger had already shown the sword his back, his stripes the colors of all seasons, and Hazahnahkah refused to go down in history as a backstabbing blade.