By Laura Joh Rowland
It's a misplaced artwork, handed down by way of the ancients in nice secrecy: Dim-mak. it truly is loss of life, through the lightest contact of a finger. Sano Ichiro, tenuous within the new regime because the shogun’s second-in-command, doesn't have the posh of skepticism?another senior authentic is lifeless, a fingerprint flippantly glazed into his skin.
Sano’s spouse Reiko has an research of her personal: a gorgeous, proud, and hopelessly bad lady has confessed to murdering her kinfolk. but the items don't healthy, and as Reiko seems deeper into the woman’s existence as a hinin?a ethical outcast, kept away from via the world?inexplicable connections look among her research and Sano’s.
As Reiko’s questions spiral her additional into the squalor of existence as a hinin, Sano and Hirata?his such a lot dependable samurai?pursure their prey, uncovering an complicated tapestry of betrayal woven into the top degrees of the recent regime. yet they're no fit for the person who has mastered dim-mak, a warrior who will strike all those that go him or his path--even Reiko. “Elegantly informed and interspersed with scrumptious bits of history” (Kirkus Reviews), Laura Joh Rowland's The Assassin's contact is a secret you won't are looking to pass over.
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Extra resources for The Assassin's Touch (Sano Ichiro, Book 10)
Why, that is a play on your name. It is clever,” she said, grasping my hand. ” “Yet I fear it is not a strong mark of favor,” I said. ” Emme was silent for a moment. “At least she didn’t call you a mouse. ” “But a cat is a sly creature. Does she think me deceitful? ” In the dark, my insecurities multiplied like shadows on the wall. From the next bed came a sigh. “Perhaps she meant nothing at all. ‘Cat’ is simply easier to say than ‘Catherine,’ ” said Frances. ” Emme hissed at her. I laughed at the thought of large wooden eating bowls affixed to the side of Frances’s head.
He began to feed it into my sleeve, beginning at my wrist. His fingers played against the skin of my forearm as the handkerchief disappeared. I was too startled to say a word. Footsteps sounded in the hall. I turned and saw Frances standing midway between the bench and the table. Had she seen Ralegh give me the handkerchief? Then the door was flung open and the queen entered just as Walter dropped my arm and I folded my hands in front of me. I was sure my face was the color of vermilion. With my thumb I tucked the lace edges of the handkerchief out of sight.
With one hand she held the reins while extending her other arm to the onlookers. I could not take my eyes off her brightness, which even the rain did not dim. ” Forgetting my father, I ran forward to touch the queen. Trying to reach the hem of her skirt, I grazed the horse’s fetlock and smelled its wet flesh. Then my mother pulled me back. ” I felt my mother’s arms stiffen around me. Father did not visit us that day. ” Had I really seen the queen pass and touched her horse? If I had, why couldn’t I recall her face?
The Assassin's Touch (Sano Ichiro, Book 10) by Laura Joh Rowland