Page 54 of The Dragon Wakes with Thunder (The Dragon Spirit Duology #2)

These emotions drew the spirits to us, who then fed and nurtured these desires, until we became nothing but shells of our former selves.

But there was more to us too. We were more than our pride and greed and our desire for vengeance; we were joy, and kindness, and wonder too.

Perhaps more than blood, our qi existed in this inherent state of humanness.

I thought of how I’d managed to escape the spirit realm last time, when Qinglong had come for me. I’d drawn on my memories, and they had enabled my escape. Perhaps those same memories could fuel the qi needed to restore the veil. A reverse impulsion, a process of giving rather than taking.

Slowly, I explained my plan to Kuro.

“The veil is a living thing, of sorts,” Kuro said, when I was done. “I don’t see why it wouldn’t take impulsion, just as other beings do. But have you ever tried to manipulate a spirit?”

“I’ve shielded my mind against the dragon,” I said. “But I don’t know if I’ve ever compelled him. Perhaps…once,” I amended, remembering how I’d distracted Qinglong with the bird spirit.

“ Look how she dares defy you ,” I’d told the dragon. “ You would let her take me from you? ”

Had it been the fact that his vessel had taken another spirit’s seal that had driven him into a frenzy? Or had it been more than that—had my compulsion actually worked on him?

If spirits could indeed transfer some of their abilities to their human vessels, then was it so far-fetched to believe that humans could usurp their spirit masters?

I could believe it. If this ability of mine led to the dragon’s demise, then only he was to blame.

By nurturing my ambition, Qinglong had taught me to dream greater dreams, to aspire to a greatness beyond even what he had bestowed upon me.

“Have you ever tried to compel the tiger before?” I asked Kuro.

“No,” said Kuro, wrinkling his brow. “But anyway, I don’t need to. We have the same goals.”

Because Baihu wanted the veil restored, I remembered. She wanted the realms to remain in balance. I’d forgotten that just because the dragon wished for chaos did not mean the tiger wanted the same.

“Not all spirits are violent. They’re like us; they vary in disposition and temperament.”

“Should we split up and target different gates?” Kuro asked. “That way, if one of us is intercepted, the other can still go on.”

I understood the logic, but my last conversation with the dragon made me reconsider.

“ Humans are weak-blooded creatures ,” Qinglong had said. “ Their only real strength lies in their numbers. Fortunately, they rarely agree on anything, so even that advantage is inaccessible to them. ”

Perhaps the dragon had inadvertently shown me his hand.

My gaze drifted to Kuro’s sketch in the dirt, which reminded me of the drawings of another.

“Long, long ago, in a time before ours, spirits and men walked the earth together. They say it was an era of chaos and instability, because the spirits were capricious and fickle, and the emperor a weak and corrupt man.”

Consort Caihong’s story spoke of remnants of old gods, fossilized pieces of amber left on the caverns of the Red Mountains.

“Only, the emperor’s bones had fossilized into amber, and just as the father had once shared qi with his son, now this amber could be used to bridge qi from person to person.

Understanding his father’s last gift to him, the prince gave the amber to his people.

Together, they joined hands and shared their qi across the land, and thus with their great numbers the first veil between spirits and men was formed. ”

Her tale differed from the versions I’d heard, but they all shared a belief in the bones of old gods, used to form a veil between realms. What if? I wondered. It wouldn’t be the most outrageous story that had turned out to hold some grain of truth.

Still mulling it over, I shared the story with Kuro. “You wouldn’t happen to know which caves the story is referring to, would you?” I asked.

He hesitated. “It’s not exactly the same, but in Leyuan, we tell a different tale. Have you heard of the Reed Flute Caves? They’re a few li from First Crossing.”

I shook my head.

“Legend has it their stalagmites are the fossilized amber remains of mythical creatures, back when they freely roamed our world.”

My mouth fell open as an old memory resurfaced. Sky had actually intended to visit those caves, until I’d derailed his plans: “ A seer told my father he could find a powerful weapon in the Reed Flute Caves. ”

I scrutinized Kuro. “You think it’s the same amber?”

“I’d take our chances,” he said.

If we joined our powers as one, Kuro’s qi would become mine, and mine his. I shuddered but nodded. Once our life forces were intertwined, we could likely never disentangle them.

“So we pay a visit to the Reed Flute Caves, join our powers together, and then use impulsion to restore qi to the veil,” continued Kuro, settling on his haunches. “Instead of bleeding ourselves to death like jiangshi. I like it. More respectable.”

“It will take time,” I cautioned. “And the more violent spirits are bound to cause trouble.”

Kuro grimaced, but I wasn’t finished.

“We’ll likely lose ourselves during the process,” I continued, recalling my previous attempts at mental manipulation. “As our minds wander, our bodies will be left vulnerable and undefended.”

“You won’t be undefended,” said Sky from the fire, startling me—I hadn’t realized he was still awake. “When the time comes, I’ll guard you.”

He got up and motioned for me to switch places with him. Blearily, I saw that my shift was over. The night was bleeding into early morning.

“What about me?” asked Kuro jokingly.

“Both of you,” Sky amended, though his jaw twitched. “I’ll muster my best men for the job.”

“How can I trust they won’t turn traitor and off us in our sleep?” asked Kuro suspiciously. “Particularly after your father spread all that propaganda about us being black magic practitioners.”

“I’ll convince them,” said Winter, who apparently was also awake. “And I’ll make sure we choose soldiers who can be trusted.”

I nodded, counting on Winter’s emotional intelligence in this regard.

Lei too rose to swap places with Kuro. It seemed no one had truly been sleeping. “I’ll be able to lure the violent spirits away from the site of the chasm,” said Lei.

“How?” I asked. Even though Lei lacked a spirit disposition, and was not at risk for being corrupted, there was no way he could take on that many spirits on his own. “Don’t forget your brother wants you dead.”

“Zihuan will have his own problems to deal with,” said Lei, with a ruthless smile that almost made me pity his brother. “As for the spirits, I can ask for the aid of the Ruan monks.”

“The southern monks?” repeated Winter, with a certain awe.

“They can harness lixia without relying on spirit summoning,” explained Lei. “And they owe me a favor or two.”

I nodded, trusting the others to play their parts.

Though suspicion still lingered between us, I also sensed something vital and intrinsic binding us together.

Despite our differences, we were alike in our shared imperatives and, perhaps, in our mutual desperation—to right the many wrongs that had led us here: to this abandoned noodle shop, to this desecrated city, to these wounded and terrified people.

To our loved ones—and the hungry ghosts we left behind.

As I surveyed the weary yet watchful faces of my companions, illuminated by the pale blue glow of dawn, I thought: How lovely all of you are. How lovely this little life of mine. How dearly I will miss each of you, and how deeply I will loathe to give it all up.