Tess was hunched over the table, scribbling on a large pad of paper with colorful markers when Gallagher announced his presence.
"Madame?"
"One sec, Gallagher." Tess held up a finger to silence him as her eyes scanned the diagram she'd drawn. "I'm trying to figure something out. Do you realize," she said, "that so far, I have a past, [she held up a brownish marker with her right hand] and a sorta existentialist-crisis present, [she raised her left hand to reveal a blue marker] but I have no future. I'm not going to be able to go for... What is that?" she asked, noticing for the first time that Gallagher was holding a package.
Gallagher carefully placed the case he'd been holding on the table before her. "It just arrived for you, madame. I'm not certain what it is."
Tess angrily pushed her chair back from the table and crossed her arms over her chest. "Never mind," s he said curtly. "I know what it is. How did it get here?" she demanded.
Gallagher looked genuinely contrite. "I'm sorry, madame. A chap brought it round. He left a message," he added apologetically as he extended an envelope towards her.
Tess snatched the letter from Gallagher's grasp and tore it open. She scanned it briefly before announcing, "Ha! It's from Skadi. I knew it. Aside from god, she's the only one who could have known I was here." She sighed, and then covered her face with her hands. "Who am I kidding?" she mumbled, and then peeked between her fingers to peer at Gallagher. "Skadi's the only one who would insist I have to look at that."
"What is it, madame?"
"It's A Horrible-Beautiful Truth," she said. With that she rose from her chair and snapped open the clasps that held the case closed. "There," she said. "See for yourself."
Gallagher peered into the case. "A sword, madame? Is it yours?"
"Was," Tess corrected. "It was mine."
She reached out with one hand and slowly traced a finger along the smooth shaft, stopping to polish the gleaming green gem inset into the handle with the tip of one finger. "It was one of a set," she said. "There were four of them -- just like there were four of us: Limh, Skadi, The Bur, and me."
She grasped the hilt in her hand and lifted the sword, turning it from side to side. The steel blade flashed dangerously in the fire's glow. "Gallagher," she said, "do you know how to kill someone?"
"Frankly, madame," Gallagher replied, "I've never had occasion to discover the answer to that question."
"If you're going to do it right," she said, "you must pierce the heart of the soul. It's not in the same place in every person. You have to find it. To find it, you must know the person. You must go where they go. Do what they do. See through them, reach into them, become them, and then . . ." She looked at Gallagher to see if he understood.
"A sword like this," she continued, "is a crude tool. It was standard issue -- handy at times, but I'd have preferred a much smaller weapon."
"Smaller, madame?"
"A needle," Tess replied coldly. "You can kill someone with a needle as long as you place it precisely in their heart of hearts. So small. So deadly. An assassin's trick. I could never claim to have mastered that one," she added, "but I tried. I wanted to have that power."
"Madame. Something feels . . . wrong," Gallagher said as he drew his hand into a fist and placed it over his stomach.
"Of course it does, Gallagher. Everything's wrong about a war! Especially a war that you lose."
She sighed, lowered her arm, and returned the sword to its case. Closing the lid, she snapped the clasps closed. "Take it away, Gallagher. Skadi wanted me to see it, and I've seen it. Bury it in the garden. Put it out with the trash. Throw it off the edge of Cloud Cuckoo Land! I don't care what you do with it just get it out of my sight. I don't fight wars any more."
"Right away, madame." Gallagher gathered up the case and hurriedly backed away from the table.
Tess watched him depart and then suddendly shouted out, "Gallagher, wait!"
He turned half-back, his eyebrows raised with expectation, "Madame?"
"Look," Tess said, the corners of her mouth lifting into a smile, a finger wagging at Gallagher's feet.
Gallagher looked down, then back up to meet her gaze. "Oh," he gasped with a hint of embarrassment. "I meant to tell you about that. I didn't think you'd mind, madame. I do hope it's all right?"
"It's perfectly fine, Gallagher. Your Beautiful Phuckedupedness is welcome any time," she said with a warm smile. "But I think it might be wise to double the ice-cream order, don't you?"
