I get along well enough with mice, and I've always been found of birds, but when you put the two together I'd just as soon avoid them. -- Lloyd Alexander, The Castle of Llyr

Death spoke first. "Well. This is awkward."

That was an understatement if ever Kilan had heard one. Qihadal still stood by the still-open door, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open. Kilan still sat frozen on the side of the bed. The only person who seemed remotely at ease in the situation was Death.

Of course she's all right, he thought bitterly. She won't have to deal with the scandal that will follow.

"Kilan, would you mind making yourself scarce for half an hour or so?" Death continued. "I'd like to explain this to your Empress, and you'll just be in the way."

Well, of all the-- Kilan could hardly believe his ears. Since when did Death give him orders in his own castle?

Then he looked at Qihadal, and he had to concede that she might have a point. The Princess was more likely to listen to another woman, and one who would understand her language at that.

~~~~

There were no words to describe the emotions swirling in Qihadal's chest during these moments. Her first emotion was shock, shock at finding her new husband sharing a bed with another woman the day after their wedding. It was swiftly followed by anger. They had both known this was no love marriage -- in fact, it was barely a marriage at all -- but to be so utterly ignored in favour of a complete stranger would grate on any woman to say the least. Then there were more emotions -- confusion, humiliation, hurt, and a myriad others.

She hardly noticed Emperor Tinuviel leave. It took the other woman speaking to her -- in Malishese! -- to jolt her back to reality.

"Won't you sit down?" the woman said, in a tone that implied it was nothing so polite as a suggestion.

Qihadal remained standing. "Who are you?"

The woman sighed. "I have many names, in more languages than you have ever heard of. But you know me as Khordu[1]."

The blood drained from Qihadal's face. Now that she had the time to see the other woman clearly, she recognised her as the mysterious woman who had attended the wedding. She no longer had wings, but it was undeniably her. From there it was a short step to remembering the black-clad figures visible in the mirror. Under other circumstances the woman's claim would have sounded like the ravings of a disordered mind, but now it seemed eerily plausible.

She had seen the look her husband had given the woman at the wedding. She had also seen those spectral things in the mirror. It was only too easy to put two and two together. Those figures were Khordu's servants, and they were everywhere. And Emperor Tinuviel welcomed them and their queen, because he was in love with her.

Oh gods. Her husband was in love with death itself. Did the Carann Empire know?

Qihadal forced herself to look Khordu in the face. "What do you want?"

"At present? Nothing. I merely visited to have a chat with my husband."

Husband?

Qihadal's thoughts showed plainly on her face; she had never been adept at hiding her feelings. Khordu laughed.

"Oh, you may well look surprised, but it's true. Kilan Tinuviel is my husband. Well, one of them. It's a long story, and technically we're only married in my world, not this one."

The Princess tried to follow this. She gave up in despair.

"As I was saying," Khordu continued, "I spend a great deal of time visiting Tinuviel. You can expect to see me at any hour of the day or night. But if you think you can blackmail Tinuviel with your knowledge of my existence, don't. I am invisible to everyone except him -- and you, for some reason. You will only make yourself appear to be delusional."

"So what do you want from me?" Qihadal asked, keeping her voice as steady as she could. She had already faced horrors most women could not imagine; she could handle an embodiment of Death claiming to be married to her husband.

Khordu shrugged. "Nothing. There is nothing you can offer that I would be interested in, and you have done nothing yet to invoke my anger. So we can simply remain the way we would have if you had never found out about me: you going about your life and rarely seeing Tinuviel, me visiting him when I feel like it."

This sounded much too good to be true. Qihadal sensed a weed lurking among the flowers[2]. But she didn't dare say so.

~~~~

Death looked at the girl with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. Despite her long experience with mortals, there was always someone who could still surprise her. Most women, in this girl's position, would have collapsed under the weight of their misfortunes. This girl fought for vengeance. There was a strange combination of pride, fear and barely-restrained fury in her eyes. Death had seen it enough times in the eyes of the dying to recognise it, and she knew what it could drive someone to do.

Princess Qihadal would make a dangerous enemy for Kilan if she was roused, Death decided. And as entertaining as yet more plots and treachery would be for her, it would make life most unpleasant for Kilan. Far better if Qihadal was -- at least nominally -- on his side.

"Sit down," Death said again.

Again Qihadal remained standing. She was stubborn, if nothing else. She reminded Death of a less-annoying Ranoryin in that respect.

"I want nothing from you," Death repeated, "but I would appreciate it if you and Tinuviel tried to work together. You have a mutual enemy in the Iqui, and a mutual goal in wanting to humiliate and blackmail him."

"I don't want to settle for just humiliating him." Qihadal spat the words as if they left a bad taste in her mouth. "I want to destroy him. I want to take his precious riches and power away from him, I want to chip away at his Empire so slowly and quietly that he never even notices until it's too late, I want to set fire to his palace. And as he lies dying, I want him to know that I did that to him."

The Princess clenched her fists as she spoke, as if longing to punch the Iqui there and then. When she finished, silence fell.

Death stared at her. It was rare that she was taken so completely by surprise, but of course it would be a mortal who managed it.

She smiled. "Then, your Majesty, may I wish you the best of luck in your revenge."

Qihadal looked at her suspiciously. The Princess held herself stiffly, as if eternally expecting an attack, and an almost-permanent scowl covered her face. Death understood the reason for both, but the Carannish royal court would not. And the Carannish royal court would need no reason to dislike and resent this foreign intruder wished on them by the High Council.

"Let me give you some advice," Death said. "Learn Carannish as quickly and fluently as possible. And speak with Tinuviel. Tell him your goals. He won't approve at first--" She smiled wryly. Kilan's soft-heartedness would cause him nothing but trouble, "--but eventually you can convince him. And above all..."

She moved from sitting on the bed to standing in front of Qihadal without bothering to walk the distance. The Princess flinched, but didn't move. Qihadal was a tall woman, but Death was taller. The Princess had to crane her neck to look her in the eye.

"...Never mention me to anyone," Death finished, in a tone that allowed no argument.

~~~~

After he found himself so unceremoniously kicked out of his own rooms, Kilan wandered aimlessly around the corridors for ten minutes. At last he grew bored with this, and made his way to his office. He could begin to draft his blackmail letter to the Iqui.

He was half-way through his third draft when the door opened. Kilan looked up, expecting to see a servant, and moved his arm to block their view of what he was writing.

Princess Qihadal stood in the doorway. Her normally dark skin had gone very pale, and she looked like she'd seen a ghost.

Kilan jumped to his feet.

Damn it, he thought, why did I leave her alone with Death? She must have been terrified when she learned who Death is!

"Are you all right?" he asked, offering her his hand to guide her to a chair.

Qihadal shook her head and pushed his hand away. She moved to stand beside the chair, but she didn't sit down. Instead she clung to the chair's arm with such force that her knuckles turned white.

What did Death say to her? Kilan wondered in alarm. He would have to have some strong words with Death about this later.

"I spoke with your wife," the Princess said in strongly-accented Carannish.

Kilan suppressed a groan. No matter what Death had told her, there was no way he didn't come out of this mess looking like an absolute cad. "I'm sorry, I should have told you about her, but she's not really my wife, at least not in this world, it's very confusing, and technically--" He realised he was babbling and fell silent.

Qihadal looked at him blankly. It dawned on him that she probably had understood less than half of that, and what she did understand would hardly explain the situation any more clearly.

"I won't ask how you married Khordu," Qihadal continued as if he hadn't spoken.

Kilan did a double take. "Who?"

"Khordu," Qihadal repeated, her brow furrowed. Seeing that he still didn't understand, she attempted to clarify. "Ghuwrogo. Thaamir.[3] ...Finish. End."

Light dawned on Kilan. "Oh! Death!" How had he not realised what she meant earlier?

"If that is your name for her," Qihadal agreed. "She said that you and I have..." She paused, searching for the right word, "a together enemy."

Kilan tried to translate that into a phrase that made sense. "Do you mean a common enemy?"

The Princess nodded. "The Iqui." She spat the words like a vile curse.

Kilan gestured to the unfinished letter resting on the desk. "I'm preparing to blackmail him now. I'll need your help before I send it. What other crimes has he committed that you know about?"

The Princess shook her head. "If I with you work, I must trust you."

That made sense, slightly awkward syntax aside. But it raised some rather worrying questions. "Why do you think you can't trust me?"

"She said you would not..." Qihadal stopped again and scowled. Exasperated impatience seized Kilan. He quickly fought it back. It wasn't her fault that she wasn't fluent in Carannish, and this situation must be just as trying for her. Qihadal gave up her search for the right word and settled for, "...be happy."

Uh-oh. What had Death suggested to her?

"What would I be unhappy about?" Kilan asked, dreading the answer. His old suspicions returned. If Death was trying to start a war...

"My revenge." Qihadal's grip tightened on the chair's arm until Kilan worried it might crack under the strain. "I want to utterly destroy my father and everything he stands for. If you don't help me, I will do it alone."

Kilan stared at her, his eyes wide. He hadn't realised Qihadal could be so ruthless. But when he thought about it, didn't she have cause for her rage? He remembered the things he had seen in Malish, and the memory of that poor murdered girl. Suddenly he reached a decision. Malish had been allowed to commit its crimes unopposed for too long.

"I'll help you."

~~~~

The Land of the Dead was never truly quiet. There was always someone talking somewhere, and the echoes of their voices reached Death's ears like distant whispers. She never paid much attention to what they said, but there were times when the constant murmur in the background became annoying. This was one of those times. So she retreated to her throne room, where all noise from the outside worlds was utterly blocked out.

Dead silence was something most mortals could not cope with. It made them think too much of the silence of the grave, and that was a thought from which most of them fled in terror. Perhaps because of this, Death found few things more comforting than utter silence.

Unfortunately, her throne room only blocked out noise from outside. It did nothing to silence noise from inside.

"How dare you?"

Ranoryin's shout pierced the silence like a knife.

Death winced and resisted the urge to cover her ears. "Hello to you too, Empress. What do you mean?"

Ranoryin did a credible impression of a basilisk. "Don't you dare play dumb! I know perfectly well where you've been. How dare you? And the day after his wedding, too!"

All this clarified was that Kilan was in the middle of this, which Death had already guessed. "Ranoryin, if I'm to defend myself, I must know what you think I've done."

The former Empress stopped pacing around the throne room long enough to give Death a scornful, disbelieving look. "Stop pretending you don't know!"

It was flattering that people had such a high opinion of her deductive reasoning, but in this case Death had to admit she was completely at a loss. "I don't. I truly don't."

Ranoryin snorted. "You went and... and... inflicted yourself upon him, and when he'd barely been married a full day!"

Finally, Death began to understand. "You think that Kilan and I--" She burst out laughing, oblivious to Ranoryin's glower. "Nothing of the sort, I assure you! We talked, and he introduced me to his wife."

"Indeed." It was remarkable, how much scepticism a person could inject into one word. "So you insist that you have not done anything to damage his marriage almost before it begins?"

"Yes," Death said. She smiled wryly. "As a matter of fact, I believe I've helped make their marriage more successful than it might have been otherwise. They are both united against a common foe now, after all."

Ranoryin stared at her. "What do you mean by that? What did you do?"

But Death only laughed.

Chapter Footnotes:

[1] Khordu = Malishese word for death.

[2] a weed lurking among the flowers = A Malishese proverb.

[3] Ghuwrogo. Thaamir. = Malishese words meaning, respectively, "destruction" and "annihilation". (Qihadal is trying to find synonyms for "death".)