When the Tiger Came Down the Mountain (The Singing Hills Cycle, #2)

by Nghi Vo

It came to Ho Thi Thao that perhaps she wanted to learn how else the scholar was beautiful, and even in what ways the scholar might be ugly, which could also be fascinating and beloved.

In the land of the dead, there are only blackbirds, and I send this one to you, in the hopes that you remember me still. Light me a stick of incense, and so long as it burns, let me sit in the chamber outside your bedroom again. Until it goes out . . .”

Dieu realized with some dismay that the tiger was in love with her, as much as any savage beast could be, and the thought filled her with dread.

They lived well-fed until they were only bones, and even their bones were happy, turning white and sharp as teeth in the moonlight.