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than humanly possible, landing on the man’s head, slashing his throat.
                The second assassin tossed something that looked like heavy wire around Jass’s neck. He fell back, slit the wire off him quickly, then spun backward and stuck his dagger in the man’s neck. He fell, gurgling.
                The assassin who had held Mandia down by her throat was more careful as Jass cleaned his bloody blade on his shirt. Jass pulled out his other dagger as the assassin withdrew a long, samurai blade from his sheath.
                They circled each other slowly, looking for weaknesses. The assassin said, “I held her throat, and it was soft, tender. What will I do with her after I kill you?”
                “Don’t listen to him,” Mandia cried out.
                Jass’s posture didn’t change. The cat in him was in full prowl, eyes wide and body oddly loose and tense at the same time. Why didn’t he just do something, anything?
                The assassin continued to taunt Jass . “You know you can’t throw your daggers fast enough; I’ll block them and you’ll be defenseless. You know you can’t approach me. My weapon has farther reach. What will you do?” He stepped dangerously close to the bound Mandia , and she scooted away, but not in time.
                He grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her head to the side. She wanted to stay strong, but she yelped in pain.
                Jass flinched.
                “So this is your weakness,” said the assassin. He reached down and roughly caressed Mandia’s neck. “I can see why. Such a weakness I wouldn’t expect in you. Women.”
                Jass stepped closer, never taking his eyes off the man.
                The assassin raised his blade between them, blocking Jass’s approach. But it was a fatal flaw. As the sword rose, Jass slashed downward on it with both daggers, spun to the side, then dragged both daggers through the assassin’s side, gutting him.
                He fell, screaming, and Jass ended him with a slash of the throat.
                The night was the silence of new death.
                Mandia’s heart pounded and she breathed shallowly. Jass had taken on four expert assassins. He had defeated them, in the dark, with only those two daggers. They’d seemed so threatening to her the first time she’d seen them in the concubine sales house, but now, as he wiped the blood off them onto his last victim’s pants, she knew they could be an extension of his hands, a part of him.
                “Thank you, oh…” She noticed the red mark on his neck and it was slightly bleeding. “Let me clean that, please.”
                “We need to go.” He looked deep in her eyes, sadness there.
                “Why do you look at me that way?”
                “I don’t want you to see me as a killer.”
                She let out a long breath. “You kill, but you saved me. And I imagine you’ve saved others. And what I have seen is there’s so much more to you than killing.”
                He watched her intently as she spoke. After a moment, he said, “We need to leave, now. They know where we are.”
                Fear shot through Mandia . “And my mother…?”
                “That’s where we’re going. Come, dress. We’ll move fast.” He turned to enter the hut, then stopped. “I meant what I said earlier.”
                “I did, too.”
                He looked back at her with a genuine, full smile, then entered the hut. She followed.
     
    ~~~
     
                They went down the mountain and by dawn, they were back in the jungle. All day, they walked quickly, quietly, with Jass stopping every once in a while to listen. Mandia couldn’t imagine what