Usually, when Maboroshi went still, he faded into the background. This time, though, he seemed to grow more distinct from the shadows – and Heizhan could sense why. Maboroshi was terrified.

Footsteps echoed down the corridor of White Castle, and Maboroshi stiffened. Heizhan casually tucked his hand into his sleeve, brushing his fingers along the hilt of his knife. Anyone who could scare Maboroshi had to be dangerous.

The Emperor of the Shadowlands rounded the corner and stopped, wearing a smile Heizhan once saw on his own face as he butchered a woman in front of her mirror. For long moment after long moment, no one said anything.

Heizhan twitched violently, palming his knife. As the Emperor’s cold indigo eyes slid over to Heizhan, Maboroshi stepped back behind the green-eyed man. One small hand slid something into Heizhan’s pocket; Heizhan could feel the gray man shaking.

Something in Heizhan snapped, and he slashed at the Emperor – who had seen the killing blankness slide over Heizhan’s face and dodged. A gloved hand swung up to grab Heizhan’s wrist -

- And passed right through it. The Emperor turned slowly toward Maboroshi, who was already dragging the stunned Heizhan through the stone wall behind them.

They emerged in a dim storage room. Heizhan, having managed to collect his wits, reached into his pocket and removed a small stone tablet. Incised on it were some symbols he couldn’t read; they shimmered with an almost-light at his touch.

“What is this?” asked the General.

Maboroshi was still shaking. “A variant on a ward. For intangibility rather than repelling. It’s about the only thing I still remember from my bard training.”

Heizhan extended the tablet to Maboroshi, who was staring blankly at the wall they’d just walked through. Heizhan sighed and placed the tablet on a nearby crate. “How many of these do you have?”

“Only the one,” said Maboroshi, still not looking at him.

A niggling suspicion entered Heizhan’s mind. “But you walked through the wall, too.”

Maboroshi seemed to find the wall utterly fascinating. He didn’t reply.

“Maboroshi?”

“You know he ordered me executed as a traitor.”

“Yes.”

Maboroshi closed his eyes, leaning up against another crate. “Who says he failed?”

Heizhan’s breath left him in a rush. After a moment’s fight with his lungs, he managed to say, “But you bleed.”

Maboroshi turned to look at Heizhan for the first time since his uncle had walked down the hallway. “There is more than one kind of ghost, Heizhan.”