Page 31 of The Dragon Wakes with Thunder (The Dragon Spirit Duology #2)

Twenty-one

Father, I know you will not approve, but I beg you to understand that no other man can compare.

If you love me, please, I ask that you support my choice.

And if you care for my happiness, I implore you to help him secure his terms in the treaty negotiations.

His success is all that matters now, and I need you to endorse him—for both our sakes.

We did not speak as Sky led me back to my rooms. He hesitated on the threshold of my door, seeming to waver with indecision, before bidding me good night. I was exhausted and did not argue. I would talk to him tomorrow.

My guards exchanged shifts; Zibei smiled at me, squeezing my shoulder in what must have been intended as comfort.

I ignored him and locked the door to my bedroom behind me, not waiting for Lotus before stripping off my heavy gown.

What was Sky hiding? What did Lei want from me—why had he warned me of famine and rebellion and the burgeoning threat of civil war?

Did he expect me to intercede, or to play his willing pawn?

Why had he saved my life—why had he asked me to run away with him—only to propose to another woman?

Exhausted and upset, I buried my head beneath the covers and willed myself not to think of him. Gradually, I drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep, so that I did not hear the sound of the key fitting into the lock, nor the parting creak of my bedroom door.

I screamed in fear and anguish as something sharp lanced my arm.

The iron arrow tore open my skin, and I fell to my knees, trying to stanch the bleeding.

I looked around wildly, struggling to make sense of my surroundings.

Was this a dream? A memory from the war?

But the blood continued to drip from my wound, and the pain did not abate.

Another arrow whizzed by me as I flattened myself against the dirt. Squinting into the darkness, I saw an archer crouching in the shadow of a tree. I extended a hand toward him, concentrating my lixia.

Water rose from the damp earth. The man whimpered, dropping his bow and sprinting away. He slipped, hitting the ground, just as I clenched my hand into a fist and drove a stream of water into his mouth.

His gurgling breaths continued for but a few more moments, and then—silence.

It was not my first kill of the night.

Confused, I shook my head as if to wake myself, then tore a strip of fabric and used it to bind my arm wound. The forest was silent but for my ragged breaths. By the age of these gnarled oak trees, I was in the woods east of Chuang Ning.

As I regained my breath, my memories returned to me. I was a prisoner—no, I’d been released. The Imperial Commander had given his blessing for Sky and me to marry…and yet I was not free to come and go from the Forbidden City.

How had I gotten here? I stared at the torn hem of my nightclothes and remembered…my last waking memory was of my bedchamber, as I prepared for sleep.

A woman’s scream ruptured the sleeping forest. Heart pounding, I raced toward the sound.

But it was too late to save her. Between two ancient oak trees, both bent and dying, stood a newly erected spirit gate.

I could sense it was new by the energy of the place, which hummed with change and turmoil.

The portal had been created by sapping the life force from the forest floor, which was slowly turning as cold and desolate as a tundra.

The screaming woman lay before the gate like a living sacrifice.

Her spirit affinity was not strong enough for the overwhelming lixia of the place, and it was driving her mad.

She writhed like a hooked fish, her mouth foaming and her eyes rolled back in her skull.

Her screams petered out, her body jerked, and then she was still, unmoving.

Another casualty of the night , I thought distantly, before rousing myself.

I was not responsible for this girl’s unfortunate death.

I was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time.

The spirit summoner that Sky was trying to catch had clearly just been here, and I had missed him.

Perhaps, if I used my lixia, I could track him down.

But, I realized, how did I have access to my lixia? I rolled up the sleeve of my nightclothes, then gasped as I saw that my iron manacle was missing. How could I have taken it off? I only knew of one set of keys, and it was back in the palace, with the guard stationed outside my rooms.

A chill of dread snaked through my veins.

I’d been waking up for months wondering where these strange cuts and bruises had come from.

I’d felt sore all over on days I’d barely strolled the palace gardens.

And Zibei, my personal guard, he had acted as if we’d known each other, as if we’d possessed some secret relationship that I’d perceived as one-sided.

Could the dragon have been controlling me all this time, even when I wore my irons? Could he have used compulsion, or persuaded Zibei of some other terrible way to free me from my irons in the night, only to return them every morning?

No, it was impossible. The spirit gates had been cropping up all over the kingdom. It could not be me who was responsible; it had to be someone else.

But all the alleged summoners Sky had caught were minor ones. It would have to be a powerful vessel, one that bore the might of a Cardinal Spirit, to create a rift in the veil so wide that the spirit realm bled into the human world.

Please let it not be true , I begged. Please let me not be the one responsible for this. Let me catch the true culprit, and rid myself of blame.

Closing my eyes, I reached for my lixia to perceive the inner workings of the world. When I raised my head, the elemental threads of the forest glowed. Unmistakably, as if I’d left a trail of blood, I could see the elemental threads of my being, intertwined at the base of the spirit gate.

“No,” I choked out. “No!”

Qinglong must be laughing, I thought. For he had been pulling the strings all this time, manipulating me in the night, then erasing my memories in the morning. It had been Qinglong who had tried to burn my mother’s diary, Qinglong who had steered me toward the throne.

My obsession with claiming power, with eliminating the princes who stood in my way—it was the hidden handiwork of the dragon, warping and feeding my ambition. And I, a pawn who thought myself the player, had willingly dove into his game.

The iron arrowhead had shaken me momentarily from his grasp, but he was surely unworried.

Sleep was no longer safe for me; he could exploit any moment of vulnerability to turn me into his puppet, to bend me to his will so completely that I lost my own.

The true extent of my helplessness caused my knees to lock.

In depending on Qinglong’s power, I had damned myself.

Shaking uncontrollably, I reached for my jade. My hand instinctively clenched around the seal, yet I forced my fist open, telling myself to take off the necklace. I would throw away my jade; I would walk away at last.

Wood, fire, earth, metal, water. I cycled through each element, practicing my qi gong. The forest seemed to hold its breath as it watched me. No leaves rustled; no branches stirred. In one quick motion, like ripping out an arrowhead, I lifted the jade from my neck and threw it on the dirt.

Immediately, a searing pain tore through my chest. I fell to my knees in agony, screaming with untenable pain.

I was going to die—no, I was dying, and there was no greater torment than this.

Crawling on my hands and knees, I groped blindly for my jade, before something cool and pulsating brushed my finger.

In desperate relief, I lunged for it, securing my necklace back around my throat.

As soon as it had come, the pain vanished.

I collapsed on the ground, wheezing, relishing the overwhelming sensation of the absence of pain.

But as my relief subsided, it dawned on me what this meant: my addiction was past the point of recovery.

Trying to remove my jade had been like trying to remove a vital organ. I could no longer live without it.

I swallowed a broken laugh. No wonder the dragon did not even deign to speak to me. It no longer mattered whether I knew of his deceptions; even if I made him my enemy, I could not survive without him.

“Keep your iron safeguards on,” a voice barked into the night. “There’s black magic here.”

The marching thud of boots followed. Although I had no will left to live, my survival instinct still reared its head.

Hastily, I rose into a crouch and ducked behind the nearest tree, so as to avoid the notice of the imperial soldiers.

When they passed me, I ran in the opposite direction, toward the city.

Despite the late hour, most partygoers were still celebrating the Arrival of Spring. I saw no one on the back roads until I entered Chuang Ning, compelling the city guards so that they looked the other way as I crossed inside.

“ Do you think you’ll be happy here? ” Lei had asked, only hours ago.

At the time, I had not known what to tell him.

I knew my answer now. The imperial palace, despite its finery and elegance, was little more than a cage to me.

A place where I had to constantly look over my shoulder, second-guess every action, weaken and restrain myself so as to fit in and belong.

I was wrong to think Sky’s love could be enough for me.

Despite the strength of his love, and the goodness of his intentions, this was the reality of who I was.

Someone broken, someone corrupted from within, someone who took innocent lives and then slept soundly in her own bed.

I could not return to the Forbidden City; that much was clear.

“It’s dangerous for a woman to be out alone this late at night.” The words made me tense, but as I caught sight of the speaker, a young woman, I relaxed.

“I could say the same to you,” I told her, as she approached me in the half-lit hutong near the Gate of Heavenly Peace.

“I knew I’d run into you tonight,” she said. “You took your time, though. I was getting quite cold waiting for you, Hai Meilin.”

I froze at the sound of my name. Then I noticed her eyes—pale and near translucent, like twin stars.

She smiled. “I’m a Ruan seer,” she said. Now I understood why her eyes looked so familiar; they reminded me of Lei’s, and he was half-Ruan.

“I’ve seen you before,” I said, remembering. “At the anniversary parade.”

Even then, she had been watching me.

“You saved my grandfather’s life, in a street just like this one. Since then, I’ve been looking out for you.”

“Your grandfather…?”

“In Wenxi District,” she said. “You stopped an unhitched wagon from running him over.”

My eyes widened at the memory. That had been the first time I’d met Sky, who’d foolishly tried to run in front of the wagon as if he were a brick wall.

“All this time, you’ve been steadily draining your life force. With the remaining qi you possess, you only have six months of freedom left before the Azure Dragon subsumes you completely. Once your qi is consumed, you will become little more than a puppet under his control.”

Six months of freedom left.

“W-what?” I asked, dumbfounded. “N-no. Thank you, but—I’m recovering. My appetite’s returned, and so has my stamina—”

“Meilin,” she said gently. “Feel your own qi. You know the truth.”

My chest hollowed at the abyss of grief that threatened to swallow me whole.

“ Will you tell her or will I? ” Lei had shouted at Sky.

This must be what Sky had learned from the lixia specialist. This was why he’d refused to let me leave Chuang Ning, why he’d even agreed to remain in the city until the Arrival of Spring, why he’d cried in my arms that night—as if he were going to lose me.

Everyone knew I was going to die. Everyone except me.

My mouth dry, I realized that Qinglong had won. This, above everything else, was what stung the most. I began to laugh then, laughing at the depths of my own spite, which remained even at my darkest hour.

Above us, fireworks exploded in the night sky, followed by raucous laughter and cheering. The Arrival of Spring was over. Winter had passed, and spring was upon us. The new year would bring life to others, but death to me.

And yet, thinking of the passage of winter, someone else had yearned for this day—and not lived to see it. Someone else had waited and prayed for the coming of spring, which would bring their last hope…

“My mother,” I said hoarsely. “She had been searching for a mythical spring.”

The Ruan seer nodded, taking my cold hands in her warm ones.

I flinched at her forwardness but did not push her away.

“Have you heard of the myth of Zhuque’s eternal spring?

Legend says the spring waters can heal lixia corruption by severing the connection between spirit and vessel.

If you journey to the Red Mountains, Meilin, you will find it.

Its healing waters can save you, but only if you choose to go in. ”

“Why would I choose not to?” I asked, crinkling my brows.

Her lips curled in an ambiguous smile. “It is a difficult choice, one only the strongest can make. For in order to be cleansed, you must give up that which is most precious to you. I do not know what your decision will be; I cannot See it.”

That which is most precious to you. And yet what could be more precious than freedom?

I shook my head at her seer logic. What mattered was that I would find this spring if I sought it out, and I only had six months left to do so.

The Red Mountains ran across the kingdom’s border, from southern Anlai deep into Leyuan.

It would take over a month to get to First Crossing on horseback, and then months longer to journey through the mountain range on foot, for the narrow roads were too treacherous for horses.

“Stars go with you, Hai Meilin,” she said. “For we will never meet again in this life.”

The hairs on the back of my neck rose. I gave her a questioning look, but she simply released my hands and turned away.

“Wait!” I called out. I had so many questions, I didn’t know where to begin. Yet the one that slipped from my lips was not what I expected. “Does Cao Ming Lei also have second sight?”

She smiled with amusement. “No,” she said. “But the prince has other gifts.”

I nodded, mulling this over. “I won’t forget your kindness,” I said. “What is your name?”

But she had already vanished into the night.