“I know,” Migo said. He returned to her side and handed her the rings. “I trust you’ll make better use of these than he did.”
Katsi sighed. “I will try.”
Migo went back toward the wardrobe. “I’m going to try and get more appropriately clothed before we go out and address the Mazanib nobles.”
“I think we should leave that addressing to you.” She remained facing away from him as he went to the other side of the bed.
Migo smiled. “I can do that.” He swung the wardrobe back open, rifling through the clothes, thinking of how Katsi’s mother had been the one who killed his father directly. Did she truly have no idea? “Katsi, there’s something I should tell you.”
“I feel like there’s a multitude of things we should talk about.”
“That is true,” Migo said, tugging on a pair of pants that were somehow still a fraction too big for him. “But it’s about your mother. When I led the army against the bleeders, we lost. Horribly. The shamans took me captive as an exchange: I would go willingly if they let the rest of the army flee. They said they weren’t responsible for my father’s death. I gave them some of my blood to show me a vision regarding his assassination. I was able to see that the emperor issued the order to kill my father, and I also saw who it was that actually killed him.” He pulled a black shirt over his head, wondering what fabric could feel so impossibly smooth.
“What does that have to do with my mother?” Katsi said, whipping her head over at him, apparently forgetting that he was still getting dressed.
Migo tugged the shirt down, her eyes flicking back up from his stomach to match his gaze as her eyes widened with innocent embarrassment. She folded her arms and held her ground.
“Your mother was the one who killed my father. In the storm. She was the assassin.”
Katsi’s face blanked. She blinked at him with her mouth agape. “Impossible. Maybe you got it wrong. Am I to understand you even know what my mother looked like?”
“If you haven’t forgotten, I was there when your mother was executed. I was forced to watch. I will never forget the faces of your parents, Katsi.”
Katsi’s jaw clamped shut, and she turned her head away with a few quick blinks.
Migo kept his eyes on her as he shrugged into a gray cloak, one of the few things he could find that wasn’t completely black.
Katsi covered her mouth with a hand and shook her head as she continued to process the news. “My mother was an assassin pretending to be a pacifist.”
“Yes.”
Katsi laughed, shaking her head more.
Migo frowned, certainly not expecting such a reaction from her, but then again, she did have quite the talent for turning everything around. “What’s so funny?” he said, pulling on a pair of black boots.
“I always thought I was a lot like my mother. It seems we always had more in common than I thought.”
“Indeed,” he said. “I suppose she was strong, then.”
“Oh, yes.” She raised an eyebrow at him as he came around the bed, fully dressed in the clothes of a man he’d just killed.
“And optimistic?”
“Always.”
“And witty?”
“Very.”
“And stubborn?”
“I am her better in a few things, no doubt.” The edge of her lips curled into a tiny smile.
“With an uncanny ability to see the beauty in everything, no matter how dismal?”
Her smile widened. “Perhaps a little of that.” She plucked at the shoulder of his coat. “Like you, still looking sharp, even though these clothes are all black and a little too big.” The sparkle in her eyes could have eased an entire world of suffering. He took a deep breath, lungs filling with the air of her. Sands, it took all his strength not to lift his hand and touch her cheek.
Migo took in a sharp breath and turned to the door. Why did she have to toy with him? All he could think about was that cave in the Scorched Waste when her touch and her eyes had completely stolen him. The memory of her soft lips kept replaying in his mind.
“Let’s get on with it then,” he said, striding to the door, hoping to the movement would dispel whatever was coming over him.
“What about the sword?” Katsi said.
Migo paused, looking back at her. She was pointing to the far end of the battered room. Ranaz’s sword glimmered atop the rubble of the crumbled roof. Scales stood next to it, tilting his head back and forth at the reflection it cast. He shook his head at the lizard and made his way over the rubble, still surprised at the very notion that he and this creature were somehow now connected.
Scales blinked up at Migo as he came and stooped beside the weapon. He could still feel the sting of its metal as it had pierced his flesh earlier. Every sensation he’d experienced as Ashjagar had been this strange sense of sharp and dull at the same time. The fact that he could feel, see, taste, smell, and hear everything so keenly was not lost on him. Even now, he had a strange sense of awareness, despite looking just as… human… as ever. Scales too, was much larger. He could certainly see the similarities, though Scales still had those large eyes of his.
Migo reached out and grabbed the pommel of the sword, marveling at the perfect condition of the blade. The pommel itself was as intricate as he’d ever seen on a weapon, complete with steel inlays and a deep, purple amethyst embedded in the bottom of the hilt. It wasn’t just a weapon, it was a work of art, more beautiful than all the paintings or carvings he’d seen in the entire castle.
Katsi was holding the scabbard when he turned around, raising it to him with a smile on her face. “Done drooling?”
Migo grunted and snatched the scabbard, fitting it onto his belt as they walked toward the door. “It’s such a peculiar thing. I’m not even sure where the silver is. It’s almost like it’s fused into the essence of the sword. I remember feeling it as Ranaz struck me with it.”
“I did notice the cut on your face,” Katsi said, her face scrunching up as she looked at him. “Which is practically gone already. That’s amazing. Whatever the shamans did to you, it must have given you a regenerative quality.”
“Oh, it certainly did,” Migo said, instinctively flexing his muscles. He should have been exhausted. In fact, he should have been so tired that he wouldn’t be able to walk, but walk he did. “I could certainly use some food though, so I hope that party I destroyed wasn’t just serving drinks.”
“There should be plenty,” Katsi said, then called over her shoulder, “Scales, we’ll be back in here later.”
