Uthar Trask gasped wetly at the sight of He’jan in all his spectral glory, while the spirit pierced the air with an unearthly wail. His dagger clattered to the ground, leaving Al-Arjun’s neck unscathed as she broke his grip and backed away.

“His heart!” cried Al-Arjun. “It’s giving out!”

The slum lord, white as a sheet, sank to the ground as the life visibly ebbed from him. His men, seeing their leader seemingly killed by the very sight and sound of He’jan, dropped their weapons and headed for the hills.

“Do…do you think that counts as slaying a malefactor?” Al-Arjun gasped.

“You tell me,” He’jan said, smiling, already beginning to dissolve into points of brilliant, upward-floating light.

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