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Summary
“Aren’t you a haunted one,” he sneered, sounding dryer than he meant to.
“As are you,” the artist replied, softer than Yone preferred, and Hwei's hand moved as if he was out of control of himself. “Your anguish, your regrets, they’re palpable. Tangible,” he reached toward the mask and Yone's eyes tracked him viciously.
“Don’t touch it,” he ordered, snatching at the man's hand. Alarmed when Hwei laughed softly at the warning, pushing through Yone’s strength.
“Or what? It’ll hurt me? Fill me with incomprehensible pain capable of shattering mind and spirit? Please. As if you’d be the first.”Yone has been tracking the Arzakana feeding off this mysterious man for days. He is an endless font of morose and tragic energy, an endless feast for demonic spirits. Try as the hunter may, he cannot cut the sadness out of Lukai Hwei faster than it returns. How can the slayer help someone who does not wish to be saved?
Lukai Hwei has been tracking Khada Jhin for months, seeking closure in the wake of Koyehn's immolation. A masked fiend threatens to stand between himself the burning questions he needs answered to find clarity. How can the artist convince Yone that only he can save himself?