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“Luck.”
“Skill,” Ben retorted.
“Dirty,” Zai barked, narrowing his eyes in a baleful scowl.
“Since when do people fight with rules around here?” Ben batted back.
Zai huffed a breath that sounded both exasperated and reluctantly accepting.
“Is that the mark you’re trying to hide?”
Ben didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that, but he had a tendency to say what’s on his mind.
When he was younger, people thought it was an endearing, adorable, unexpectedly funny quality. Now that he was older, not so much.
His brain-to-mouth filter, or lack thereof, had gotten him into trouble more often than not.
Zai immediately flipped his cowl back over his head, hiding his face in shadows once more. But not before Ben got a really good look at him in the afternoon light.
An intricate tattoo was etched into the left side of his face from temple to jaw. Ancient runes that Ben could actually read. (Secretly, his inner historian danced a little jig. He wished he could retain these abilities in his own time and realm). They said:
Betrayer. Forever exiled on pain of death.
But the tattoos weren’t the most prominent mark on his face. In fact, the first thing Ben noticed was the three long, jagged scars that appeared deep enough to have been carved directly into his skull.
How Zai managed to keep his eye in the face of whatever attack had created these scars was a mystery. And nothing short of a miracle.
The size of each claw mark looked bigger than that of the biggest predatory cat, even what Ben had seen of the Tiger King. Almost as big as a dragon claw.
Which made Ben file away a mental note: were there dragons in this time?
From what Ere and Sorin had told him, the original three dragons had disappeared at the end of the Age of Gods, thousands of years before the Age of Dark Ones. On the other hand, Cloud also told him that the Jade Emperor sent dragons from the Celestial Realm down to earth in times of need, across the history of civilization. Which meant that, while dragons might not have naturally existed on earth for many millennia, they could still have appeared for brief periods of time.
Ben wondered how any of this related to the Forgotten Truth he was supposed to find. Instinctively, he simplyknewZai was an important part of the journey, even if he wasn’t directly related to Ben’s quest.
Everything happens for a reason, Ben had heard countless times in his life, from people who’d lived long enough know.
“I could kill you,” Zai said.
It wasn’t so much a threat as an observation, as if the male was considering the pros and cons of allowing Ben to live.
“Or, you could let me help you on whatever mission you’re set on,” Ben offered reasonably, unperturbed.
He was a good judge of character. Always had been.
He trusted his instincts now, which told him that Zai was one of the good guys. He reminded Ben a little of Kai, but with the reticence of Sorin. And a strange dose of self-derision that was unique to Zai.
If there ever was a reluctant hero, Zai might be the most reluctant of them all.
“And,” Ben inserted as Zai opened his mouth to argue, “you promised. If I managed to knock you down within five moves, you’d let me come with you. I did that. You gave your word.”
“My word means nothing, human,” Zai growled, baring his fangs.
Ben cocked his head to one side and stared unblinkingly back.
“Oh, I think it does. You are a man of your word. Your honor means everything.”
Zai glared at him for a few moments longer before relenting on an exasperated huff. Without another word, he turned and strode briskly back toward the village. When Ben followed, keeping pace beside him, he didn’t complain.
