You’re not a killer, Seirin.” Sweat coated his face, speckled his clothes. “You couldn’t kill Vissyus, and you can’t kill me.” Seirin grinned maliciously. “A woman’s prerogative. I’ve had a very long time to think things over.” Botua’s charred body floated out of some locked section of her mind. Her will hardened. She’d learned the cost of hesitation. Things were different now. Lon-Shan would face justice.