Tiger Eye Read Online Free PDF Page B

powerful Magi wanted her to bear him a child, but she was already pregnant. When the Magi discovered this, he threatened to kill her. I arrived before he could take her life, and we made a bargain. I would be his servant if he spared her and the child. The Magi agreed, but he killed them anyway. When I tried to take revenge, he captured me—branded my chest with his curse—and cast me into the box. I have been a slave ever since.”
    The sorrow in Hari’s eyes was immediate, raw; a shocking revelation of emotion. Dela could not find words to speak—his story was too horrible, too strange. Hari turned from her, his face grim as death. He put on his clothes, his weapons. He paced the length of the room, examining everything. Searching. Learning.
    Hari looked completely out of place among the dark standard dressings of Dela’s hotel room. He belonged inside a myth; the tragic hero of some epic tale, exotic and poignant. He was magic, and this was not a magical world.
    And the grace of his movements—stunning, lethal. Dela watched him, trying to reconcile the impossibilities of his existence, his story, with everything she knew to be true. The touch of his soul was still resonant within her.
    Accept it , she told herself. You don’t have to believe. Just accept.
    Because true belief required a commitment of the heart, which at the moment, was more than Dela could give. Acceptance, on the other hand, was just that. Like a huge stain on a brand-new blouse—you don’t believe it happened, but the proof is there, so you just accept it.
    “Will you stop staring?” Hari suddenly snapped, whirling on her.
    “I’m thinking,” she replied mildly. “This is all very strange.”
    “You do not seem upset.”
    “Would you prefer hysterics?”
    “I would prefer a clear purpose,” he said, then faltered. “I do not frighten you?”
    Dela smiled. “What do you want, Hari?”
    He raised an eyebrow. “The last time I was asked that question and answered truthfully, my master peeled the skin off my back in strips.”
    Dela swayed, and quickly sank to the bed. “What was your answer?”
    “That I wished to bury him in sand and watch his head be eaten by wild dogs.”
    It was not funny—not at all—but Dela still found herself laughing out loud. Better than being sick all over her covers. She remembered Hari’s earlier reaction to her laughter, but this time he did not look angry. Only startled. The hint of a grim smile appeared on his lips.
    “It was not an intelligent answer,” he admitted. “But I did not care.” His smile disappeared. “My master died a year later. The intervening time was … unpleasant.”
    Dela sighed. “Did you ever try to escape?”
    “If I am separated from my master—my summoner—for any length of time, I develop an overwhelming compulsion to return to his or her side. It is instinctual, maddening.”
    “So does that mean you and I …?”
    “Until the day you die or return me to the box.” He reached past Dela to pick up the box, and his sudden closeness made her breath catch. She smelled moss, the musk of some forest cat, sharp and hard. Her face felt hot.
    Hari did not seem to notice her sudden discomfort. He held the box out to her.
    “To repudiate me, all you must do is open the box. I will begin to disappear. Close the lid and I will be gone for good.”
    Dela took the box from his hands. He watched her expectantly.
    “What?” she asked, incredulous. “Do you want me to lock you up again?”
    “I do not know what I want,” he said, but she sensed that was not entirely the truth.
    Dela stood and placed the box on the night stand. “Well, when you figure it out, let me know.” Her neck hurt from staring up at him. “Is there any way to break the curse?”
    A profound quiet stole over his body. “The Magi stole my skin when he killed my sister. He told me the curse would only be broken if it was returned to me.”
    “Your skin? I don’t understand.”
    Frankly, Dela