Page 19

19

My joints groan as I slam into the sand for what feels like the ten thousandth time.

“Back on your feet.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. Every single limb is on fire. “Hào’yáng, you’re going to kill me before the trials do.”

For the past few days, Hào’yáng has been relentless. From sunrise to almost midnight, we train on the beach beneath the camphor tree. I return to my chambers each night bruised and exhausted, managing only to scrub myself with soap powder and a washcloth before collapsing on my bed.

A shadow falls over me. I open my eyes to see Hào’yáng backlit against the sunset sky. Instead of frowning at me with the strict trainer’s demeanor he’s taken on, he sits by my side and crosses his legs. His armor is off. As a breeze pulls in from the water, he lifts his face to greet it, and I’m struck by how much younger and more mortal he looks.

He exhales. “The Third Trial could start at any moment. There are candidates stronger than you out for your blood. This place will swallow you whole. Believe me; I’ve been through it.”

Dusk sweeps an aching, fiery haze across the grounds. Shadows begin to set in, velvet beneath the bright colors of blossoms and trees on the landscape; the remainder of the realm is aflame, the waters as red as molten lava, the clouds like swirls of fire. Hào’yáng’s profile is carved in the last glow of sunlight, his shoulders drawn tight. With each passing day, the possibility of the Third Trial starting soon seems to weigh heavier on him, and I wonder if it’s because he’s afraid of failing to repay the debt he claims he owes my father or of failing the task his mother set to him—or both.

I blow a strand of hair from my face and change the subject. “How did you come to the immortal realm?” It’s a question I’ve been mulling over. From the bits and pieces Hào’yáng has told me through our trainings, I understand he came here as a child—long before he could compete in the Immortality Trials and earn a spot in the Kingdom of Sky.

He glances over. Locks of his hair have come undone from their bindings, falling over his cheeks. “Your father brought me here,” he says, and my world shifts.

I sit up. We face each other, the tides of the Mirror Lake rising and falling just beyond us, the winds murmuring. I could lift a hand and touch him, and this time, he doesn’t move away. “Please tell me why,” I say.

“àn’yīng. I can’t—”

“Why not?” I’ve burned through my patience. I’ve had enough of elusive responses, of questions he won’t answer.

I reach into the folds of my dress. My half-sewn handkerchief is wrinkled and sandy, but the note wrapped within—because of its protective talisman—is as new as the day I found it.

I shove it at Hào’yáng. “The only legacy my father left me is on that piece of paper.” It’s hard to keep the tremor from my voice. “And all of it points to you. ”

Hào’yáng keeps his expression carefully blank as he reads the note. When he finishes, he looks up at me and sighs. “To tell you the truth,” he says quietly, “I’m here because I need you, àn’yīng.”

I hold very still. “Why?”

“The answer is dangerous,” Hào’yáng says quietly. “Many seek it, and would kill for it. My—and Lady Shī’yǎ’s—protection can extend only so far within the rules of these trials. I know you need to win the pill of immortality for your mother first, and that’s why I’m here now.”

I don’t recall mentioning Mā to him. “That’s my business,” I reply. “You don’t have to protect me, Hào’yáng.”

“I know how it feels to be hunted; I know how it feels to be prey. And I don’t want you to have to go through that.”

I realize I’m gripping my jade pendant so tightly, my knuckles are white. “Well, it’s too late,” I say in a low voice. “I already have.” For the past nine years.

His gaze is searing in its intensity. “I don’t want you to anymore.”

“Who are you to lecture me about being hunted?” Anger rises in me like flames. “You met me weeks ago, Hào’yáng. You know nothing about me, about what I’ve been through.”

I snatch my father’s note back and shove it into my sleeve. “I’m leaving,” I say, and I turn and run toward Meadowsweet, ignoring Hào’yáng’s calls.

Surprisingly, the dragonhorse flies me back to our usual drop-off spot in the Celestial Gardens. “Thank you,” I whisper, petting her snout. She nudges me once and gives me a gentle look with her large brown eyes before taking off again.

The last rays of light are seeping out of the sky. The shadows have set in. The gardens are utterly silent as I walk; I am alone. In this moment, there is only one person I wish to speak with.

I lift my jade pendant from where it rests beneath my clothes. “Talk to me,” I whisper.

The stone remains cold, the surface blank.

And suddenly, I wonder if any of it was ever real. Whether my guardian was merely an enchantment my father created, one of the talismans he drew on a stone, just like the blades he gifted me. Whether, now that I have found my way to the Kingdom of Sky, my jade pendant has lost its purpose.

The thought hurts so much, I stumble. That’s when I hear movement behind me.

I turn, Shadow and Fleet in my fists, as a moan rises from the bushes. In the dim light, I catch sight of the hand first. It’s a slender, pale hand with long fingers, protruding from a camellia bush. Then I see the blood, and the hulking, monstrous shape between two willows that moves rhythmically. A strange slurping sound breaks the silence.

A choked sob; unmistakably feminine. And then a voice—one I recognize—moans. “Help…”

It’s Xī’xī. Number Five, the girl who was gossiping about Yù’chén.

I must have made a noise, for the thing in the shadows pauses. As it lifts its head toward me, I already know, with the bone-deep sense of having been hunted for half my life, what I’ll see.

Two eyes, blazing like embers. Staring directly at me. Eyes as red as blood.

A being of the Kingdom of Night.

Cold grips me even as I heft my blades, shifting into a defensive stance. I should run. I should get to the Hall of Radiant Sun, find Hào’yáng, have the immortals hunt down the demonic beast loose within their borders.

Number Five lets out another small sob, and something unmoors inside me. It’s the same impulse I had watching áo’yīn hunt down Lì’líng; the same impulse that makes me want to protect Méi’zi and Mā and all those who are weak and vulnerable and hunted.

If I leave that girl to die here, I will never be able to live with myself.

My breathing quickens. I’ve done this before. Fought mó. Killed them, even. I can do it again.

I raise my blades.

The beast snarls at me and lifts a great, clawed paw, angling it toward Number Five’s prone body for a killing blow.

I charge, obscured from view and faster than the hellbeast can anticipate with my two magic blades. I swipe with Fleet—but the beast is quick. It dodges and all I can see is the shadow it cuts across the growing darkness, blacker than black; the crimson of its hellfire eyes…and the glint of its claws in the moonlight as it swipes at me.

Pain explodes in my side. I know as I slam into the ground that I’ve broken something inside me. A metallic warmth coats my tongue. White spots bloom in my vision.

But there’s a fire in my veins, a light dancing beneath my skin. I’m filled with a euphoric rush of life energy, the knowledge that I have survived this long and I will survive again.

I will not be prey.

I spit out a mouthful of blood, hoist Healer into my palms, and push myself onto my feet. My sight has sharpened, and the sounds of the forest roar in my ears. Everything looks brighter, the leaves of the willows, the tips of the grasses, the roots of the trees all threaded through with gold.

I raise Fleet and turn to face the beast.

Except…there’s nothing there. Just a patch of empty shadows between the trees…and Number Five’s pale hand, limp on the ground.

The rush of adrenaline wanes. My vision and hearing dull. My crescent blades slip from my grasp, and my knees hit the ground.

That’s when a long, sonorous note reverberates across the temple grounds.

The gong.

The Third Trial is about to start.

—

“Candidates.” Jǐng’xiù’s voice rings across the grounds, carried by magic. It filters through my pain, reining my consciousness in to focus. “Welcome to the Third Trial, and by the dragons, do we have a show for you tonight.”

As he speaks, each star in the sky begins to glow. Light pours from them, streaming to coalesce like silver threads.

“The Temple of Dawn has been transformed: twelve battlegrounds, each denoted by a zodiac sign.”

My hand shakes as I take out Healer and activate the talisman with my spirit energy. Warmth rushes through me, and my pain begins to dull. I crane my head up and watch the starlight form distinct lines: a circle divided into twelve quadrants. Within each, the outline of an animal begins to take form.

“In a few moments, your golden bracelet will morph into a waist pendant showing a symbol that corresponds with one other candidate. Your task is to meet that candidate at your assigned battleground and steal their pendant. Once you win, your pendant will direct you to your next battleground. Your aim is to collect as many pendants as you can by the end of the trial.”

Healer’s talisman has cleared my mind to the point where I can think through the instructions. Bà used to keep a celestial sphere in his room, a way of timekeeping from the gods. I can see it now, the dusty old thing, with a dial whose shadow shifted with the course of the sun. Each animal of the zodiac represented a certain hour…as well as a direction.

Tonight, I see the celestial sphere carved into the stars.

My wrist warms as my golden bracelet unfurls and wraps around my waist like a ribbon. It solidifies, and a pendant hangs from my hip. I raise it to see a rat engraved on the surface.

Midnight Rat, I think, of True North.

That means my battleground should be deep within the Celestial Gardens. And I have an inkling of where exactly it’s going to lead. Straight north through to the back of the gardens is a set of cliffs overlooking the Silver Sea: a narrow and unpredictable body of water within the immortal realm, prone to great storms and whirlpools and said to be inhabited by mythological beings—dragon carp, sea serpents, and merfolk.

Pain lances through my ribs as I haul myself to my feet. I grip Healer harder, but the talisman on the blade borrows from my own spirit energy.

I’m in no state to fight, or even run.

But if I don’t try, I will be disqualified from the trials.

And I will lose Mā forever.

I grit my teeth. The starlight overhead dusts the Celestial Gardens in a ghostly sheen as I begin to hobble north. Each step is agony; several times, I pause to catch my breath. Even with Healer’s talisman dulling my pain, I can feel the full extent of it beginning to seep through the cracks. In the silence, I hear screams from the other battlegrounds.

The trees around me start to lighten. Between the leaves of the canopy, I make out the form of a rat in this quadrant of the celestial sphere. And beyond is the open night and the rush of ocean waves.

I’ve arrived.

I scope out my surroundings. No sight of my opponent, but in my current state, the only way I’ll stand a chance against them is to fight with stealth.

I draw a deep breath. Then, clamping my teeth together, I sheathe Healer and palm Shadow and Heart.

White-hot pain streaks through my ribs. I bite down against a whimper and steady myself against a tree, gathering all my thoughts into a single, dagger-sharp desire: to beat my opponent and take their pendant. To win a spot in the trials and earn a pill of immortality. To see Mā open her eyes and recognize me again, sunlight in her gaze and her smile.

I want to sever my opponent’s pendant.

I tap Heart with my spirit energy and throw it. It curves through the air, a silver flash, and then vanishes through the trees.

Moments later, there’s a shout. I take off in its direction just as a throwing star whisks through the night. With a dull thud, it lodges in the trunk of the tree I was just leaning against—but I’m already halfway through the trees, Shadow obscuring my movements.

My opponent doesn’t see me coming. At the last second, he hears my footsteps; he twists and aims a kick. I swerve, then dodge another throwing star before aiming my own jab. He blocks awkwardly; in the moment he’s thrown off balance, I catch a glint of gold on the ground.

His pendant. Heart’s aim was true, severing it from the belt on his waist.

I switch Shadow for Fleet, and in the instant I become visible to him, my attacker lets out a shout.

It’s too late. I snatch his pendant from the ground and stumble back into the shadows of the trees. I don’t want him to see how badly wounded I am.

But my opponent does something strange. Instead of trying to stop me, he raises his hand to the skies.

The air ripples with spirit energy as the acrid stench of smoke reaches me. There’s a whistling sound and a spark, and moments later, fire powder explodes far above our heads. It shimmers in the air, red and in the shape of a crescent.

Its light illuminates my opponent, and I realize why he was fighting so awkwardly. Where his right hand should be is a stub, the hand cut off at the wrist.

My breath catches. It’s Yán’lù’s crony—the one who helped abduct me that night in the Celestial Gardens. The one whose hand Yù’chén sliced off.

He glares at me, teeth bared. “Recognize me now?” he growls.

I lift his pendant. “I won,” I croak.

He spits in the grass. “You think I care about that? Ever since your lover cut off my hand, you think I still care about these trials?” Above us, the fading glow of the crescent from his firework paints his grin red. “I’ve found a new way in this life. Someone who’ll protect me, no matter what.”

My pendant glimmers; the engraving on it has changed to a new constellation of the zodiac, but I don’t take my eyes off my opponent for more than a split second. “I won,” I repeat. Blood soaks the fabric of my clothing at my midriff; I have to lean against the tree to stay on my feet.

He notices, too. His eyes roam down my bodice, and his expression turns malicious. “You don’t look so good.”

“That’s none of your business.” My voice sounds breathy even to my ears, but I jerk my chin up at his firework and snap, “Extinguish your weapon and leave.”

His grin widens. “Oh, that’s not a weapon,” he whispers, and I suddenly feel as though I haven’t won after all. It was easy, too easy…the way he barely fought me, the way he didn’t even try to take back his pendant. Instead, he sent…

A signal.

I sense them before I see them, shadows moving in the thicket.

“My flower,” croons a voice, and my entire body goes cold as Yán’lù steps out. He’s flanked by half a dozen cronies; the whites of their eyes and teeth flash as they close in from all directions. Herding me so that the only place left to go is the cliff—and the fall into an abyss and a deep, dark sea.

Slowly, I back away from them. The wind rises, laced with a cold, sharp tang of salt.

“What do you want?” I’m gripping my blades so tightly, their hilts dig into my skin. My muscles are frozen with the memory of being pinned down, helpless, and drowning.

Yán’lù smirks. “I want to see who’s watching over you,” he replies.

I’m visibly shaking as I palm Fleet and Healer. The world sways, and the pain from my wound sends shocks of cold through my limbs. There is no way out: in front of me, fanning out in all directions, are Yán’lù and his cronies. Behind me, a jutting cliff that plunges into the depths of the Silver Sea.

Something whistles through the air, followed by a stinging sensation in my shoulder. When I look down, a sharp black spike the length of a finger protrudes from my arm, glistening in my blood and another viscous liquid.

A slow, numbing sensation spreads through my skin, and I realize what the spike was coated in: poison.

I stagger. My movements slow.

“You won’t be able to stand within half a minute,” Yán’lù says. He takes another step toward me and his two remaining cronies close in from the other sides, their silhouettes blurred in my vision. “Then I’ll be able to do whatever I want with you.”

I back away one more step and hear rocks skid off the edge behind me.

“Tell me, my flower,” Yán’lù croons. “Tell me who your guardian is.”

My guardian. My guardian in the jade. Hào’yáng. Yù’chén. Their names blur in my head as the poison in my body spreads. I remember the last time Yán’lù had me cornered, the horrors my body still cannot forget.

As my legs begin to numb, I do the only thing I can think of. I turn and leap off the edge of the cliff into the darkness below.

—

My body yields to the poison, and I have no hope of controlling my fall. Clouds swallow me, and the world turns to swirling gray and blurred silhouettes, terrifyingly disorientating. Flashes of lightning illuminate shadows everywhere, followed by deafening thunder.

But the harsh impact of hitting the surface of the ocean never comes. Instead, the waters envelop me in a gentle caress. Everything goes quiet, and as I sink, I have the feeling I’m floating instead.

My chest burns. I turn my gaze up again, to the disappearing surface of the ocean, and I think of Mā and Méi’zi and all whom I have failed. I’m paralyzed by poison, drowning a realm away from them, and I can only pray that the gods will watch over them.

A tug around my throat: my jade pendant has freed itself from my collar. It rises, as though it, too, yearns for the surface, perhaps for the guardian within its other half that I will never meet.

In the darkness, something sparks. A tiny glow, approaching quickly, like a falling star. My vision is blurred, but I can make out a silhouette now, gold glinting off what looks like scales…

Not scales. Lamellar armor.

Hào’yáng.

He dives after me, cutting through the water with unnatural speed, the pale silk of his shift flying, armor glimmering—but here, in the water, he is haloed by light. He is as beautiful as the gods I imagined as a little girl in a world of nightmares. As beautiful as the first time I saw him in the depths of a different sea.

Water rushes into my mouth. I feel his arms wrap around me, drawing me to him, and then the warmth of his palm on the back of my head.

Gently, as naturally as though it was always meant to be, Hào’yáng lowers his face to mine.

He exhales.

Golden life energy pours from his lips to mine, driving the cold from my limbs and dulling my pain. The ocean water is pulled from my lungs. Fresh air floods them, and I inhale deeply. I can’t move from the poison in my system, but I see him through my lashes, illuminated by the light of his life energy: his eyes closed, his hair flowing around him like currents of the ocean.

Most of all, I see the glow radiating from the object around his neck. I see the jade pendant rising from his shirt as bright as a star, drifting between us with the pull of the tides…and perhaps the pull of its other half around my own neck.

Time seems to slow as the broken piece of jade around Hào’yáng’s throat meets mine. Every one of my pendant’s jagged edges fits perfectly against his, until the pendant is at last made whole.

The world shifts. The ocean surges. Numb shock fills me, followed by relief and joy so profound it is as though my soul weeps.

My guardian in the jade.

Hào’yáng draws back. There is a terrible grief in his eyes as he presses a palm to my cheek, searching my face. He speaks my name into the silence of the sea, and I understand why it has always sounded so natural coming from him. As he holds me tightly to him and touches his lips to mine again, breathing life and air into me, I know that I have finally come full circle with the destiny I have searched for throughout half my life.

“àn’yīng, stay with me.” His voice echoes into the deep, the last thing I hear as I sink into the darkness closing in on my mind. “I’m here now.”