Hello again! This is the end of O'otani's section. Next chapter we're back in Kama with Shira!

As always, thanks for reading

- Swpoet

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I react without thought. There is only impulse and action, and a mind blank save for the rage that consumes all rationality as flames consume kindling. Restraint turns to ash and I'm leaping over the desk that divides us, one hand going for his neck and the other for the butter knife. My muscles fall into old patterns of attack; my mind snaps into the killing place easily.

I'm dimly aware that I should stop. I should not be flying over the table, scattering the bread and jams, knocking over the steaming tea, and colliding with Sholu. I should not be pressing the knife to his throat and cursing his name over and over again through snarling lips. I should be a girl, not a wild animal.

But the voice of the girl is weak and easily silenced, and the wounded howls of the animal echo from hill to hill, demanding an audience.

I give myself over to visions of red. My mortal dress falls from me easily, leaving a goddess in its place. She unfurls herself, all flashing metal eyes and righteous anger, a goddess of retribution brought to claim what is hers by right.

He belongs to you, something inside of me whispers, and the truth of the statement envelopes me. He took from you, and now you will take back. A debt has to be repaid.

I think, for a moment, that it will work. The knife will find its mark, and whatever happens after be damned, the world will have lost one more monster.

But he slams my hand away easily, his grip hard enough to cause me to cry out. I think he breaks a finger. Then he uses his weight to throw me off of him, to throw us both onto the floor, because he isn't letting go of my wrist. His grip tightens, trying to force me to drop the knife.

We grapple on the ground, twisting and twining over one another like snakes. I wrap my legs around his hips and try to hold him still, I manage to wrest my hand free and get the knife close to his neck again, but he knees me in the stomach. I scream, and as pain blossoms from my midsection he grabs my arm and slams it down above my head.

"Stop it," he spits, all of his weight pressing me down into the thick Seramichen carpet. "Stop it, you can't win."

I try to wrench myself free but stop when his grip on my arm turns punishing. He pulls it in an unnatural angle, his eyes threatening a break if I keep fighting. I do, of course, too far gone to see self-preservation, too far gone to see anything but a vision of his viscera spread out on the floor before me. He applies more pressure, then more, until I'm panting and swearing at the pain.

"Fuck you," I spit. "Fuck you, you weak, goddess-damned son of a whore-ha-"

The grip tightens; my bone feels stretched. He's close to breaking it, to breaking me. Sinews threaten to snap and a haze of black creeps in from the edge of my vision. Unconsciousness threatens. I whimper, the animal in me kicked and cornered.

The pain finally overcomes the red haze of rage, the flickering edges of the red silk tent, and I know it's over. I relax my grip on the knife, and it falls aside, useless from the start. Never sharp enough to do the kind of damage I wanted.

It was over before it began, really. I might be a trained fighter, well-practiced, but he's almost twice my size and he fights like the street scum he is. Ruthless, lightning fast, yet precise. I can't beat him, certainly not with no plan in my head and a butter knife in my hand.

"My mother-" I gasp. "She wouldn't help you murder my family. She loved them- why- who would she do that? It makes no sense, you're a liar, it makes no sense!"

My words are vitriolic, yet there's a hollowness behind them. Sholu watches me for a moment before letting his grip relax, and I breathe out a sigh of mingled relief and pain as my muscles return to their natural places.

He answers me, but doesn't lift his weight from my body. "I didn't say she helped plan to kill the entire family, O'otani. She just wanted two dead."

He's silent, watching me too intently while I work over his words and try to avoid the unavoidable conclusion.

"Liar," I spit. "Liar, she would never. She would never, ever-"

"Somitu was in her way, Shira was in yours," he says simply, his face so close to mine I can feel his breath on my face.

"No," I pant, pressing back against him. "She disagreed with Somitu, but she'd never- she wouldn't kill them. That would be- evil."

"She loved you very much," he repeats. "She wanted you in power, she wanted power, so she convinced herself Somitu had to be stopped by any means or she'd destroy the family. And she couldn't let the heir live if she wanted you to be Izsai."

"No," I hiss. It's impossible. Impossible. She wouldn't- she couldn't have- could she?

I shouldn't be questioning it, questioning her. Impossible, I repeat. I shouldn't be shaking against him, possessed by waves of rage and helplessness. Of course it's impossible; I should put it out of my mind. He'd say anything to hurt me. He likes hurting me. He's a devil, even little children know not to listen to the words of devils-

"She wanted you to be the heir, and she wanted to use me to get rid of the opposition without dirtying her own hands."

Do not hear the words of devils...

"How else could we have gotten in that night? She showed us the palace blueprints, where the guards were stationed, at what time on the feast night we could sneak in and install ourselves in their rooms, to wait for them to stumble home drunkenly before a knife ended them in their own beds."

Do not let their barbs sting you...

"She resented Somitu, the golden child. So golden that even a bastard son couldn't ruin her reputation. Your mother lived in her half-sister's shadow all her life, and she watched you, the firstborn, the one who should have been the heir, live in Shira's."

"She- she knew I never wanted to lead," I stutter. "I was born first, but Shira was chosen. I wouldn't be a good leader and he's natural at it. I was always born to be a soldier."

"She wasn't thinking about you," he replies harshly. "She was rationalizing her own hatred. She saw Somitu come home from a trip abroad with a baby in her arms, and then she saw the family name that baby Izsai even though you were two months older. She saw, and she resented it, and resentment unchecked will warp anyone."

It should've been you, O'otani, my mother whispered to me quietly as we walked uncertainly towards that red tent. You know what has to be done. You aren't an old-fashioned idealist; you aren't like them. Yes, if all was right in the world it would have been you.

I'd gotten used to these remarks over the years. Used to her sneers at Somitu, her bristling when my love for Shira shone from me in ecstatic praise. But now, looking back on it, the words seem sinister.

Devils twist the truth-

Sometimes devils tell the truth plainly, I realize. Sometimes that's all they have to use to destroy us.

"Fuck you," I repeat, his words sticking like a barb in my brain. I'm unsure, vacillating between denial and acknowledging his claims have a ring close to truth. "Fuck you, you fucking- you monster-"

"You see, then," he tells me, suddenly sitting up. "You know I speak truth."

"You're a liar," I repeat, but I lack all conviction. I stay pressed against the carpet, pressed where he laid me. I can't move. She- could she have wanted Shira dead? How could she?! She knew what he was to me. If he had died, my soul would have been pulled from my body. Shredded. How could she- her own nephew- her own sister?!

It's a lie, I say, trying to convince myself. She's innocent.

But there was something in her voice as she begged- he wants me alive, I'm his ally- something stronger than a little agreement to look the other way. Something connecting them, something like a plan.

We do what we must do to survive, she told me. Was that her version of survival? Turning to a Vasayaste assassin to gain leadership of the family?

"I might have let her live, for your sake, if I didn't see how she was trying to use me for her own ends and discard me," Sholu says, again sitting placidly in Somitu's old chair.

I sit up and grab the knife, then I'm standing in front of him. "I don't care what you say she did. I don't care what she did. I only care that- you killed her- took her from me!"

He looks at me with those impassive grey eyes, the eyes of a statue carved of marble, not of flesh and bone. He looks unconcerned, and doesn't even raise a hand to block his face.

"I will kill you," I mutter. "I will drain your blood from your body slowly, and I will bathe in it. It will take hours, and you will suffer, and I will kill you."

"Put the knife down unless you're going to use it to butter something," he says dismissively. "And stop being so morbid."

I grip the knife tighter; I'm holding it by the dull blade. I know it's useless, I know I've lost, but it feels like a comfort object in my hand. "I will kill you, and I'll do it slowly," I repeat.

"Maybe you will," he admits with a small smile, "but it won't be today, so come and sit down. We have more to talk about."

"I'll stand," I hiss, gripping the knife tighter still. I start a little, realize it's broken skin. The blade is dull but my skin is soft and now little drops of blood flow down the handle, starting a steady drip, drip, drip onto the carpet beneath me. Sholu watches it with interest.

"That was unnecessary."

"Don't talk to me about unnecessary violence," I say, walking and taking my seat across from him. My stomach rumbles, so I grab a muffin and use the knife I'm already holding to spread fresh butter across it. I leave a soft red stain in the butter pot. My palm reddens the tablecloth, and I smear blood across my face as I stuff the muffin unceremoniously into my mouth.

It trickles down my chin and onto the beautiful grey dress, a dress not at all the color of my eyes. I'm ruining it, and it gives me some satisfaction. The muffin tastes like rust but I don't care. I want him to see. I want him to know that I mean what I say and I will make good on my promises.

I think I've won for a moment, because he's quiet and still. I feel a surge of triumph, absurd as it is, rise within me. The goddess crows- she has shown something, some fight at least- but then he smiles.

He smiles, and it's all sharp teeth and claws, and there's a strange light swimming in his eyes. He seems to see through me, through all of me, to the heart of the trapped animal underneath.

"Kionike," he mutters. "It will take more than a little autocannibalism to threaten me."

"Don't call me that," I hiss back. Little tiger girl. He sees the animal, and he mocks her, calls her what she is- weak. Helpless. Trapped by his steel.

"I will call you what I like," he says, that strange light flashing like a candle flame blown about by the wind. "Because you are mine now. Yes, make no mistake about that. Hate me all you will, but I own you, O'otani. I told the lie that saved your life, and I can tell the truth and ruin it any time I choose."

The truth of his words slams into me and I look away, unable to hear, to accept what he's saying. The animal yowls, whines, scratches against the doors of her steel cage bitterly. She bites at metal and howls when it refuses to bend to her will. She huffs and spits and finally bows, acknowledging momentary defeat.

But her heart is still beating.

I'm still alive.

And I meant what I said, when I said I would kill him.

I will, I promise myself, imaging the weight of a real knife in my hand, then imaging the feel of it sinking gently into flesh.

He belongs to you, the animal sings from inside her prison. And at the end of the long night, all debts will be repaid.

It's the closest thing to a prayer I've thought in a long time. 

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So, how did everyone like the beginning of part two? It ended up being a much longer chapter than anticipated (24 manuscript pages, how did that even happen?) but I'm pretty pleased so far. 

If you like the story, please consider leaving a comment, especially if you haven't before! I really love getting to know my readers and I kind of live for the comments (shameless, I know.) And as always, thanks for all your support, it means the world to me!