Chapter Text
All hail the Great Uniter.
"Who?" The little girl asked, turning to see the speaker behind her even though it was too dark to see anything.
But no, it wasn't completely dark after all. She was in her own home, a ramshackle hovel lit only by the glow of a tiny fire that looked terrified to draw too much attention to itself.
Her parents were there. But neither of them could have called her that name. Neither of them knew. Or did they? Her father fixed her with a glare that was red with alcohol and anger. What had she done this time? She glanced at her mother in panic, but the woman was oblivious, lost as always in her own fog of apathy and substance abuse. Her father's arm swung in a wild motion and the bottle he had been holding shattered on the floor scattering hints of unnatural purple light. He took a heavy step towards her, raising his hand.
The girl squeezed her eyes shut, but when she opened them she was in the sunlight, each hand grasped by one of her parents. All around her was a bewildering whirl of colors, people, animals, smells of food; the festival! Her parents had never brought her along before...
She smiled up at her father as he handed her a bun filled with red bean paste. She already knew it tasted scrumptious. She remembered devouring it as her parents left her on a bench, drowning her uneasiness in its sweet filling as they turned their backs and walked off. They would be back, they had said, but here was a sealed letter to give to the police if she needed help.
It was dark again.
It's your fault they left you.
"Help," the girl whispered.
You are all alone. It's what you deserve.
But no, there she was! The girl had been waiting for her; the woman in green robes with short, carefully curled hair the color of steel. The girl ran to where the woman was standing with her back turned. Slowly she turned around and fixed the girl with a gaze cold and sharp like a blade.
This wasn't right. The woman had been much younger when she had rescued the girl; her face much kinder.
"It's you." The woman's hiss gave the girl a horrible start. She shrank down, trembling.
"It's you," the woman said again, "Great Uniter."
"No," whispered the girl, "That isn't me."
The light grew, spreading slowly from its center at the woman and illuminating more figures standing around her. Many more. A multitude.
"You did this. You destroyed all of this."
"I'm sorry!" the girl cried, "I didn't want this, leave me alone!"
The light was taking on a deadly purple cast and revealing the features of the figures around the woman. Many of the faces the girl knew well. She couldn't look at them. Even more there were whom she didn't recognize, but their eyes were full of suffering she knew she had caused. A low rumble grew from the silence and the figures began to chant.
"You... Monster... Destroyer... Murderer..."
The purple light became blinding. The rumble grew into a roar. The skyline of broken buildings shook as on the horizon a metal giant stood, its hand outstretched toward the destruction.
The girl screamed as the world disintegrated around her.
_________________________________________
Kuvira woke with a jolt. She lay on her prisoner's cot, breathing heavily, looking around and willing the all-too-familiar surroundings of her cell to replace the ghastly images from her dream. The wooden walls and floor. The platinum bars separating her from the short hallway just outside. The only furniture was her cot, plus a platinum toilet behind a rickety screen if that counted as furniture. It was a cell built for the most dangerous of metalbending criminals.
A ribbon of light filtered in through the slit of a window in the top corner of her cell, and she knew from the angle that it was early evening. Kuvira pushed herself into a sitting position and tried to calm her breathing. She had spent the last couple of nights avoiding sleep because of the nightmares, which probably explained why she had fallen asleep in the middle of the day. As her head cleared, she noticed the voices of two men talking quietly outside the door that led to the hallway her cell was in. That was unusual, but Kuvira couldn’t bring herself to care what it was all about. However her ears did perk up a bit when she thought she heard one of them mention Avatar Korra.
Korra. Normally she would be visiting within a week or so, but last time she’d come she had mentioned that she needed to travel to Ba Sing Se on some business or other, something about unrest and helping out the new regime, and wouldn’t show up again for at least two months.
Kuvira closed her eyes and leaned against the wooden wall of her cell, drowning out the whispering voices with her thoughts. Korra had visited five times so far, about once a month since Kuvira's imprisonment. She would always ask things like how Kuvira was doing, whether they were treating her well, how her injuries were healing up, if there was anything she needed. On the last visit she had even brought tea, though Kuvira had refused it. Korra’s visits troubled her. She couldn’t fathom why the Avatar would go out of her way to visit a war criminal, much less someone who should be one of her worst enemies. But then, she still didn’t understand why Korra had saved her life in the first place.
Not that it mattered. With the likelihood that she would be spending the rest of her days in this very cell, there didn’t seem to be much point to life anyway.
She was broken from her thoughts by the sound of a key scraping in the door’s lock. The door swung open and a guard stepped into the room. He was not one she recognized from the weekly rotation.
“Prisoner, you’re wanted for questioning.”
It seemed like a strange event this late in the evening. She couldn’t even think what else of use she could possibly tell them, but she merely nodded and stood up.
The guard fumbled at the platinum lock to the cell. He seemed strangely on edge, not even having met her eyes when he spoke to her. He stepped inside the door and pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. Kuvira extended her wrists obediently.
There was an instant of hesitation. The guard’s fist flashed through the air and collided with her face. The cuffs had been clenched in his hand, and she could taste blood where the metal had scraped her mouth. She shook off her dizziness and straightened to look at him. It wasn’t the first time a guard had been rough with her, but before it had always seemed to be on a whim, with more intent to humiliate than to do damage. This man’s eyes were burning with hate, though he also looked nervous. She thought he must be close to her age, and he was only a bit taller and broader than she.
I could take him, she thought, if I cared enough.
Kuvira wiped blood from her lips.
“They might not approve of this down in questioning,” she said in a dispassionate voice, staring the man down. He winced and yelled the name of the other guard. Kuvira glanced over as the the second guard entered. The first man took advantage of her brief distraction, grabbing her shoulder to whirl her around and slam her back against the platinum bars. Her head reeled. Black spots popped across her vision. She made no attempt to resist as he locked her wrist into the handcuffs and passed them to his comrade who had grabbed her from behind. The second guard looped the cuffs through the bars and clamped her other wrist in.
“My brother,” the first man breathed as his comrade left through the door, “was in the United Forces Navy. He was on one of the ships you fired your spirit cannon on. They…they were barely able to recognize his body when they found it.” The man was shaking.
“I’m sorry,” Kuvira whispered, her insides twisting horribly.
“SHUT UP!” he shouted. “You’re sick, you’ve murdered innocent people. I’m gonna make you pay.”
His fist slammed into her stomach and knocked the air from her lungs. She doubled over, falling almost to her knees until a horizontal bar stopped her from sinking further. The man continued to strike. Pain blinded her as his foot connected with her ribs and the sound of blood rushing through her ears drowned out all else. The world around her began melting again into her nightmares. The roaring of a spirit cannon and violent purple light flooded her consciousness.
From underneath the fog of near-oblivion, she became aware that the impacts had suddenly stopped.
“What are you doing?” A female voice shouted, sounding muffled despite being very near.
Kuvira tried to focus through the haze of pain and dizziness.
“Avatar Korra!” The guard’s voice was panicked. “You…you aren’t supposed to be here!”
“Well I’m here.”
“Don’t hurt me!” the man pleaded. There was the sound of a struggle, and the voices moved out of the cell and into the hall.
“Don’t hurt you? Because you were just having a pleasant chat with her?” There was a slam, followed by a gasp from the man. Kuvira could feel a source of heat growing behind her.
“No! Please, I’ll do anything, DON’T!” A pause. The heat dissipated and the woman’s voice, Korra’s voice, growled in frustration. The sound of footsteps and something being dragged moved behind Kuvira. The door to the hallway opened.
“Guard,” said Korra.
“Yes Avatar?” It was the voice of the guard assigned to Kuvira for the week. He sounded terrified.
“Arrest this man for assaulting a prisoner. And I want both of you to stay. Right. Here. Until I’m back.”
“As you wish, Avatar.”
The door slammed shut, and the footsteps hastened back towards Kuvira.
She felt hands; gentle hands on her wrists, unlocking her handcuffs, supporting her as she fell forward. Strong arms half dragged her towards her cot. She opened her one eye that hadn't been hit at some point during the assault and saw the flash of the Avatar’s blue eyes.
Korra eased Kuvira onto her cot and sat on the edge of it. Kuvira lay there, the shooting pain in her ribcage forcing her to breathe shallowly. As her head started to clear, she felt the beginnings of frustration and embarrassment well up inside her.
She always manages to be present when I’m at my weakest.
She felt Korra’s fingers probing her ribs.
“I don’t need you to fuss over me, Avatar.” Her voice came out sounding much frailer than she’d hoped. She shoved Korra’s hands away to emphasize her point.
“Hey!” Korra said sharply, “I’m trying to help. Do you want me to heal you or not?”
Kuvira hesitated.
“Look,” said Korra, relaxing a bit, “I’ll show you.” She knelt by the cot and dipped her hand into the jug of water that was delivered daily to the cell. When she pulled her hand out it was enveloped in a blob of water. She held the water against the damaged side of Kuvira’s face. The water began to glow and Kuvira felt a cool, tingling sensation seep into her skin. The throbbing in her cheek grew less and she could almost feel the swelling go down, it was like the pain was being drawn out of her face and into the water. Korra moved her fingers up to Kuvira’s swollen eye.
After a few minutes, Korra pulled her hand away and Kuvira reached up to feel her injuries. It was like they were days old. They were still tender, but the ache was dull and the bleeding had stopped.
“Now,” said Korra, leaning back and looking satisfied, “Do you want me to ‘fuss’ over the rest of you? Cause if not I can just leave.”
Kuvira sighed. “Fine.”
She reached to undo the ties of her rough prison tunic, but the twisting motion sent pain coursing through her torso.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Korra said, yanking on the ties and helping Kuvira sit up slightly so she could shrug out of the tunic. Shivering a bit in her undershirt, Kuvira laid back on the cot. Gingerly, Korra pressed on her ribs. Kuvira couldn’t stop herself from gasping through her teeth when the Avatar’s fingers found a particularly painful spot.
“Broken ribs,” Korra said, her expression hardening, “Again.”
She bent a mass of water from the jug, but didn’t use it right away. It appeared she was trying to calm herself, breathing deeply with her eyes closed, the water suspended between her hands. After a moment, she straightened up and applied the water to Kuvira’s ribcage.
“What a mess,” she murmured, moving the glowing water around slowly.
“Even you didn’t do such an impressive job on me, Avatar.” She felt the corner of her mouth twist into a grim smile.
Korra clenched her jaw.
“I didn’t break your ribs last time. That happened when your mecha fell.” She pulled the water back and again seemed to be trying to relax.
“If you have to take this many breaks maybe we should call for refreshments.”
Korra gave her an incredulous look.
“Since when are you some kind of morbid, wannabe comedian?”
“Prison gets to you after a while.” Kuvira said, shrugging a shoulder.
It’s also a defense mechanism, she decided not to add. No need to show more weakness than she already had.
“Anyways I’m…” Korra paused as if collecting her thoughts, “I’m not in the best state of mind to heal. It’s hard to have inner peace when you can’t stop thinking about a certain guard whose head you should have set on fire.”
“And why would the benevolent Avatar want to do something like that?”
“Why do you think? Look what he did to you!”
Kuvira looked up at the wooden ceiling and breathed slowly. “Don’t be too hard on him. I’m responsible for his brother’s death.”
“That doesn’t make this right.”
“I said I would accept my punishment, Korra.”
“This isn’t your punishment! This is some vigilante loser thinking he can just dish out his version of justice on a defenseless prisoner.”
Kuvira exhaled with a frustrated sound. “Can you just get on with the healing?”
Korra took one more deep breath and pressed the water back against Kuvira’s stomach. Kuvira closed her eyes and soaked in the sensation for a few minutes, before she heard Korra again, speaking more softly.
“That’s another thing that’s bothering me. Why didn’t you defend yourself? That guy was no fighter.”
“He handcuffed me.”
“Handcuffs have never stopped me before. And I don’t believe they could stop you unless you let them.”
“So I let them.” She opened her eyes and glared at Korra. “I don’t have to justify myself to you.”
There was a tense silence as Korra maintained the healing water.
“You must think me ungrateful,” Kuvira murmured.
Korra didn’t say anything.
“The healing is…I mean…I already feel much better.” She was struggling to put her thoughts into words. “But what I don’t understand is why.”
“Why am I healing you?”
“No, not that. Why are you even here?”
Korra shrugged. “The airship I was going to take to Ba Sing Se had some maintenance problems, so I decided that as long as I was in town I might as well visit you one more time.”
“But why do you visit me at all?” The words came out louder than Kuvira meant them to. “Why do you come here, and ask me how I’m doing, try to talk to me, bring me tea? Pretending…like you care.”
Korra pulled the water away and bent it back into the jug. She met Kuvira’s eyes with such an expression of concern that it made Kuvira feel uncomfortable.
“I do care, Kuvira.” She gave a tired looking smile. “And I guess I visit you for a lot of the same reasons I saved your life five months ago.”
“Because you think we’re similar. Because you’ve imagined some kind of connection between us.”
“You know we’re similar. You used that fact to your advantage several times during your campaign.”
Korra didn’t have to explain. Kuvira remembered all too well how she had both appealed to Korra’s sympathies and played on her insecurities during the takeover of Zaofu.
“That’s only part of it though,” Korra continued, “I told you I understand you because we‘ve both been through terrible experiences. Things you can’t just move past; things that change you forever. What your parents did to you, that was so long ago but it affects you to this day.”
Kuvira looked away. Telling Korra about what had happened to her as a child was something she found herself regretting more often than not. She had been so vulnerable in that moment when her world was crumbling around her, so desperate for someone to understand, that she had latched onto the faint hope that Korra might be that someone. Now, however, she was disgusted that she had ever shown such weakness in front of the Avatar.
“The thing I’ve realized,” Korra said softly, “Is that, being defeated and imprisoned, you’re going back to that dark place. It wasn’t that long ago that I was there, too. What kind of person would I be if I abandoned you now?”
“I’m not worth your time,” Kuvira said bitterly. “Even if you could help me, I’m going to be stuck in here for the rest of my life. There are plenty of people out there struggling. Why don’t you find someone to help who can do the world some good.”
“Okay, you know what?” Korra said in annoyance, putting a hand on her hip, “Maybe I don’t feel like justifying myself. Sorry if it’s so hard to have one person in the world who wants to be there for you.”
Kuvira felt the stony mask fall reflexively over her features.
“Ah,” Korra said rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly. “That came out really bad didn’t it?”
A muscle in Kuvira’s jaw tightened. The Avatar had hit a nerve, or rather she had been hitting nerves the whole conversation, in more ways than she realized.
Korra cleared her throat, breaking the brief silence.
“Sooo, your ribs are still cracked a little bit,” she said, “But I’ve progressed the healing quite a bit. Just be careful when you move around. Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“My head is throbbing,” said Kuvira, trying to relax her jaw enough to speak clearly “It took a bad hit against the bars.”
“Okay,” said Korra, looking relieved to have something to distract from the tension in the air.
Kuvira rolled over carefully and Korra again began to move the glowing water over the back of her head.
“Some cuts and swelling here too,” she said after a minute, moving the water to Kuvira's shoulders.
Kuvira wasn’t listening. She hardly even felt the cool sensation of the healing. All her life there had been hurt inside her. She had spent her energy putting up walls and defenses till she had almost convinced herself that the pain wasn't there; that she was invincible, without insecurities or weaknesses; just like her towering, armor plated colossus. It was when she had fired on her former fiancé that the walls had begun to crack and by the end of that day they were nothing but rubble. It was Korra who had finally broken them. Ever since that day Kuvira had been trying to rebuild her walls as well as she could, but Korra always seemed to see right through them. To the Avatar, the walls were made of glass.
But there was still something that Korra didn’t know, something she couldn’t know. She was the Avatar. She had family and mentors, friends and admirers who had always stood by her side no matter what. How could she possibly have experienced the ultimate depths to which a person’s soul could sink?
“Korra,” said Kuvira through clenched teeth, “You think you understand me, but you don’t.” Why did she feel compelled to tell Korra this?
“I thought…that I could handle this. My punishment. Being in prison forever. But every day I’m here it gets more unbearable…staring at these walls…walking the eight paces between them over and over again. I thought living in Zaofu was like being in a cage but I had no idea what that word meant. I guarded the city. I kept it safe from the outside. In here my existence is pointless; I’m a discarded piece of rubbish, and I’m unable to cope with that fact. It’s more unbearable still because everyone I ever loved has turned their backs on me…which is exactly what I deserve for the things I did to them. Now the only thing left for me is to escape.” Kuvira squeezed her eyes shut.
No tears, she thought. She reached under her cot and grabbed a bundle of ragged cloth which she thrust at Korra.
Korra released her water back into the jug and slowly unraveled the bundle. It was like a rope, consisting of three long strips of cloth torn from a bedsheet. A braid had been started at one end but the strips hung loose at the other. Her eyes flickered uncertainly to the window in the upper corner, as if to reassure herself that it was too small for a person to climb through.
Kuvira snorted, masking her emotion with disdain. “There are other ways a rope can help you escape, Korra.”
Horrified realization was dawning on the Avatar’s face.
“Kuvira,” she breathed, “No…”
There was a look of pain on Korra’s face such as Kuvira had never seen there, almost as if she were the one suffering. Kuvira couldn’t meet her eyes. She turned her face downward, pressing her forehead against her arm. Shame was welling up inside her again.
“You can’t do this.” Korra’s voice shook.
“Why not? Give me a reason.”
Korra stood up and spun away, stalking across the small room.
“You should go, Korra. You can’t help me. You think I’m just weak, but if you’d ever felt this way…if you’d ever been where I’m at now you would underst—”
“I have been there before!” Korra shouted, slamming the side of her fist into the platinum bars. Her voice was thick with emotion. She turned to face Kuvira and there were tears on her cheeks. Kuvira stared at her, stunned, unable to speak. Slowly she pushed herself into a sitting position, taking care not to twist her torso. Korra walked slowly back to the cot and sat down next to her.
“Don’t you remember the first time we met?” said Korra.
How could she forget?
“You wanted to thank me for saving your father.”
Korra nodded, fixing Kuvira with her blue eyes. They looked so different now than they had on that day, years ago. It had been shortly after the Red Lotus had captured and poisoned Korra, and the Avatar had spent a couple of weeks in Zaofu to recover enough to make the journey back to Republic City. Kuvira had wanted to officially meet Korra ever since she first arrived, but had imagined it under far different circumstances. She could still picture the scene in her mind. The all-powerful Avatar, propped up in a bed, appearing utterly broken and defeated. Her words of thanks had been a feeble whisper, and her eyes…her eyes had looked hollow and dead.
Is that what my eyes look like now? Kuvira wondered. She looked back at Korra. Korra, the Avatar. Korra, the girl who had always had everything Kuvira ever wanted.
“How?” was all she could say.
“How did I get to that point?” Korra looked down at her hands. “I may not have been locked in a cell, but I was definitely imprisoned…by a body that didn’t work, by a mind that kept replaying the horrible events of the day I was poisoned. I don’t think it was too different from what you are going through now.”
“But…you’re the Avatar.” Kuvira cringed inwardly at how childish the statement sounded, but Korra seemed to understand.
“Believe it or not, that made it even worse. I constantly wondered if…if it was my duty to die, so that the world could have a new Avatar. One who wasn’t broken.”
“And your family, your friends…they couldn’t help you?”
“They did help me. I’ll always be grateful for them. But that alone wasn’t enough…I had to get through a lot of it on my own.”
Kuvira looked away, her eyes wandering slowly around the tiny cell.
“You endured that for three years,” she said softly, “But I’m never getting out of here. You told me yourself that life in prison was by far my most likely sentence.”
“If that’s true, then I want to do my best to make sure your life is still worth living, even in here.”
Kuvira breathed deeply, holding in her emotions.
“I'm not going to give up on you, Kuvira. And I'm not going to let you give up on yourself. Will you let me help you?”
Kuvira met Korra's earnest blue eyes and felt hope stir faintly within her for the first time since her imprisonment. She nodded slowly.
Korra smiled. “Good.”
Korra stood up from the cot and stretched. Her tears had since dried up, but her eyes seemed bright in a different way. There was something about her, both a liveliness and an inner peace that she radiated simultaneously. It made the tension and emotion of the previous moments dissipate like fog before the sun. Kuvira could still faintly remember feeling that alive herself.
“Okay, here’s the deal,” Korra said, seemingly unaware that Kuvira was studying her. “I still have to make the trip to Ba Sing Se, but I’m going to make it as short as I can so I can come back and see you.” As she spoke, she bent down and scooped the makeshift rope off the floor, then held its coils loosely between her hands and ignited it with firebending. It burned for a moment, and then she doused it with some water from the jug. “My question is, do I need to tell Beifong to put you on suicide watch until I come back?”
“No,” said Kuvira quickly, “That won’t be necessary.”
Korra gave her a look, skepticism showing in the way she screwed up her eyebrows.
“Really,” Kuvira sighed, “It’s not as if it was something I was looking forward to doing. If you actually think you can help me, I much prefer that alternative.”
Korra nodded, looking satisfied. She turned towards the door and put a hand on her hip.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to drag that chicken-lizard of a guard down to the Chief’s office to face justice. Beifong’s not gonna be happy.”
“You mean those two chicken-lizards of guards,” Kuvira said. “The other one was in on it too.”
“Oh yeah, almost forgot about him.” Korra slammed a fist into her palm. “Two chicken-lizards of guards.” She scooped the discarded handcuffs off of the wooden floor and strode to the cell gate.
"Wait, Korra?"
The Avatar turned to look back at Kuvira.
"Your trip to Ba Sing Se...you said something was going wrong in the Earth Kingdom..." She faltered, trying to recall the details that she had only half-listened to in her previous state of apathy.
Korra's expression darkened.
"King Wu has taken the throne and he's trying to set up a republic like we have here. They've just elected their first prime minister, but the problem is there's just so much unrest since you surrendered. It's the third major power shift the Earth Kingdom has had in only a few years and...well...by now things are just in shambles. Bandit tribes rising again, political candidates with Earth Empire sympathies being elected by states that did well under your reign and--" she broke off.
"What is it?"
"Kuvira...a number of your generals never surrendered."
Kuvira's eyes widened. She was sure Korra had never mentioned this before.
"We thought they were just in hiding trying to avoid justice, but it turns out they've got a following, mostly from remnants of your army. They laid low for a long time but they've apparently been causing disturbances in some parts of the country. To make matters worse, they seem to be attracting more followers."
"If you could find them couldn't you just...wipe them out?"
Korra gave a hint of a wry smile. "Possibly," she said, "But finding them is the hard part. Intelligence says the leaders move around all the time and are never all in the same location. Individual squads of soldiers often seem to act without input from their higher-ups."
Kuvira closed her eyes. "I never stopped to think that my order to stand down might be ignored by some. And now they are causing chaos in my homeland. I'm sorry, I wish I could have done more to stop this."
Korra looked at Kuvira thoughtfully. "Well don't worry, I'm on the job," she said after a moment. "It can't be worse than terrorist bloodbenders, dark avatars, terrorist airbenders, and a dictator in a giant mecha suit."
Korra gave a kind, if slightly lop-sided smile and backed out of the cell.
"Is there anything else you need before I go?" She asked before closing the gate completely.
Kuvira shook her head. "Thank you."
Korra locked the cell behind her and walked down the hall, disappearing through the door. Kuvira could hear her muffled voice growling something at the guards.
Kuvira leaned back carefully against the wall and pulled her feet onto the cot, wincing slightly from her partially healed injuries. The news from the Earth Kingdom was disturbing, but her thoughts kept wandering back to the earlier parts of their conversation.
She did it again, Kuvira thought. She made me open up. She somehow convinced me she's the one person who understands me. Kuvira shook her head in bewilderment, hugging her knees. Maybe it’s possible she really does.
_________________________________________
Far away, on the edge the Si Wong Desert, a young traveller fell to his knees in despair. He had finally escaped that horrible place, that swamp that had held such dreadful tidings for him. How could he have let this happen? He should never have left home. Squeezing his eyes shut and gripping his hair at the roots, he bowed forward until his head touched the earth. The familiar desert should have been irresistable to him with its open sky and endless waves of sand, especially after the oppressive darkness of the swamp, but he knew that there was no longer anything there for him.
An unnatural cool breeze caressed the backs of his hands and neck and he sat up with a shiver. Shimmering in the air several yards in front of him was the faint shape of a strange creature. A spirit.
"You again," muttered the man.
"Yes," the apparition's voice was a hoarse whisper, "And you. You have witnessed what I warned you of?"
"How did you know?"
"The desert is my home. Little passes through that escapes my notice even after everything that I have suffered; and everything that the desert has suffered."
The man shook his head. Something about this wasn't right. But nothing was right anymore.
"So," he said, "What do we do now?"
"We?"
"You said you could help me." The man stood up. "Well I need your help now more than ever. Just tell me what you want me to do."
He could have sworn the spirit was grinning.
A shout tore from the man's lips. "Tell me!"