The Power and the Glory

Book 3 Chapter XXII: Face to Face

Author's Note: Finally, the end of book three! It turned out very differently than I planned because someone *glares at Lian* barged in and tried to make the whole story about him. I have mixed feeling about the finished book, but hopefully it isn't too bad!

Sometimes a ghost is a ghost but other times a ghost is the prominent absence of a ghost. -- Unknown

The delegation from Saoridhlém was expected to arrive within the hour. Preparations were well underway to welcome them and escort them to their rooms. The funerals would be held tomorrow. In all likelihood Lian would barely get to see the visitors, much less talk to them. He wasn't invited to the funeral itself. He would be somewhere in the rear of the procession, far away from them.

Common sense told Lian he should avoid them. He would only open a can of worms that he could never close again. But for so many years he'd lived anonymously, moving from place to place and changing his name so many times he could hardly tell what his real name was. It was a lonely existence. And he had to admit he was curious. What stories were told about him back home? Was he remembered at all?

Zi Yao didn't go to the welcoming ceremony, so neither did Lian. Mirio and Lady Yuan did, which left Lian without anyone to talk to. He had nothing to do but think. So he thought. And thought. And thought.

Mainly he thought about Abihira. Was Mirio's description of her accurate? He must be exaggerating or she would never be allowed to go on a diplomatic mission. If Lian met her and talked to her, if he told her everything, what would she say? She probably wouldn't believe him. Why should she? She had no memory of him and he had only the faintest memory of her. No, it was better to leave well enough alone. He would do nothing but cause trouble for himself.

Lian's thoughts turned to the curse. Whoever was responsible for it had to pay. He didn't know who they were yet or if they really didn't intend to cast it again, but they had cursed Zi Yao. They could have killed every other prince if they wanted to and Lian wouldn't have cared. But not Zi Yao. Lian would hunt them down for that. Even if it took him a hundred years, five hundred, ten thousand, he would find them and make them suffer.

Zi Yao was fast asleep. Lian kept a much closer eye on him than usual to make sure he really was recovered. His temperature was normal and his spots had disappeared. But even so the slightest change in his breathing snapped Lian out of his thoughts instantly.

Yes, whoever had tried to kill Zi Yao would suffer for it. Lian usually killed people quickly. But when he got his hands on them he would make sure they had the slowest, most painful death he could invent.

~~~~

Normally Abi was curious when she arrived in a new place for the first time. She would explore everywhere she could and familiarise herself with where she was. Not this time. With Aunt Jiarlúr's looming presence beside her she didn't even dare look up. Abi tried to remember everything her aunt had yelled at her.

Bow ten times. Hold your hands in front of you with one placed on top of the other. Do not raise your head unless commanded to. Do not speak unless you are specifically addressed. And above all do not try to speak Gengxinese! The language is notoriously difficult for Saoridhians who haven't studied it for years. Speak Saoridhin and let the translator relay what you said.

Well, she was in no danger of breaking those last commands. She hadn't dared to open her mouth since they got off the ship. Aunt Jiarlúr had elbowed her -- very hard -- in the ribs the only time she tried.

Dimly Abi was aware there was a large crowd gathered in the throne room. She tried to ignore their existence. The fear of Aunt Jiarlúr's displeasure was bad enough without worrying about what a crowd of strangers thought of her.