The pearls were here, I was certain of it. Wenzhi would
keep so precious an item close at hand, particularly on the eve of battle. Flinging open the drawers in his desk, I found only a few seals of jade and metal, an inkstone, and loose sheets of paper. The shelves held nothing but books and scrolls, while the closet was stacked with garments that
tumbled to the floor in my frantic search.
The sun descended, the room growing darker. I lit the silk-paneled lanterns which cast their soft glow across the walls. Deep in slumber, Wenzhi’s rhythmic breathing broke the silence. How much time did I have until the draught
wore off? He had asked not to be disturbed, yet how long would that order stand? What if someone brought him a meal, or a report? And I could not help wondering, what the guards outside believed us to be doing all this time.
My nails cut into my palms. I forced myself to calm, to think. In Xiangliu’s lair I had somehow sensed the Jade Dragon Bow’s presence. Closing my eyes, I focused on drowning out the powerful thrum of Wenzhi’s aura,
reaching out with my senses as I did when taking a
particularly challenging shot. I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to steady the thud of my heart, to silence my fear, frustration, and hope, too—just as Teacher
Daoming had taught me. As the stillness descended, I breathed easier, the tension easing from my body. All
around was the soothing darkness threaded with glimmers of light.
My eyes flew open. There it was, that elusive sensation
grazing my awareness—a whisper, a brush of wind. Calling to me, just as it had when it drew me to the hidden cavern in Shadow Peak. Surely the pearls would be kept in the
same place as the Jade Dragon Bow.
It was like feeling my way blind in the night, but for a
thread of spider silk between my fingers as a guide. Step by step, I traced the pull to a small, lacquered cabinet in a corner of the room. In my frantic search, I must have
missed it—or had it been enchanted to stay out of sight? I dashed to it and tugged the handles, only to find it secured with a heavy brass lock. Impatient now, I snatched up my
sword and sawed at the hinges as hard as I could. The wood was sturdy and it took time, splinters piercing my skin before the panel broke and swung free.
Someone cleared his throat behind me, a deliberate
sound crawling with menace. I spun around, afraid to find Wenzhi waking up, only to look into the gloating yellow orbs of Prince Wenshuang.
I had not heard him enter, so intent was I on my task.
Only now did I perceive the shift in the air, pulsing with the heat of his aura. He shut the doors behind him as I
smothered the urge to cry out. Dread sank over me at his presence, but I feared more alerting the guards. If they
came in, nothing I uttered would convince them of my innocence. But he was just one man and I was so close now, if only I could rid myself of him.
“Does my dear brother know what you’re doing?” He spoke in a pleasant tone, a smile playing on his lips.
I did not reply, my mind drawing a blank. His finger
tapped his chin as his stare swept the room. It had been
immaculate when I entered, yet now appeared as though a
tornado had swept through, scattering Wenzhi’s possessions with abandon.
“I think not.” He answered his own question.
My pulse quickened as I took a casual step to the side, trying to block Wenzhi’s sleeping form from his sight. His eyes followed me, an eerie light flaring in them as they
alighted on his brother. Despair surged in me, that surely he would cry out. I would have no choice but to attack him, as guards poured into the room at the first clash of metal. I would be imprisoned or killed, leaving the dragons to be enslaved, and my mother trapped forever. And Liwei and
the Celestial Army would perish.
Without warning, his magic surged through the air, the walls of the room shimmering with a translucent light that sank into the crevices between the windows and doors. A coldness formed in the pit of my stomach like I had
swallowed a chunk of ice. I knew this enchantment; I had woven it once before, to prevent my music from drifting across the Courtyard of Eternal Tranquility. Even if I
screamed until my throat was hoarse, the guards outside would hear nothing but the rustling wind.
The thought heartened yet terrified me.
“What are you doing?” I was glad my confusion masked my fear and it helped that it was unfeigned. Even though the room was silenced and my bow was just a quick lunge
away, I dared not risk him discovering the pearls. Not while his magic rippled off him while mine was still bound.
“You have my deepest thanks. I’ve long wished for this moment. It wasn’t enough for my little brother to be
revered and praised by all, he had to steal my birthright, too.” His hands bunched into fists by his sides.
I stepped away from him, closer to the lacquered cabinet.
He cocked his head at me. “I’m so grateful, I’ll even let you flee. It would save me the trouble of disposing of you and it would strengthen my story.”
I froze. “Story?”
“Everyone will weep at the tragic tale. How the Celestial spy, the one my stupid half-brother fell in love with,
betrayed and killed him.” His lips curved wider into a vicious smile.
“You’re . . . going to kill him? Your brother? And blame
me for it?” Despite my anger at Wenzhi, my heart twisted at the thought.
“Half-brother,” he corrected me coldly, echoing Wenzhi’s own disdain at their kinship. “What’s the matter? Don’t you want to escape? Don’t you hate him? Isn’t that why you did all this?” His arm swept across the room.
Without waiting for my answer, he drew his sword and stalked toward Wenzhi.
Chaos erupted in my mind. I hated Wenzhi, I reminded myself. For all he had done, for all he planned to do. I
loathed and despised him and wanted nothing more than to escape. Yet could I really stand by and let him get
murdered without a chance to defend himself? He was only vulnerable because I had tricked him. His death would be on my conscience, as surely as though I had plunged the
sword into him myself. Unbidden, memories flooded me—of when he had defended me against Governor Renyu, when
he had borne the brunt of Xiangliu’s attack, the many times we had watched over and protected each other. Oh, how he had lied to and deceived me; we could never go back to
what we once were. But neither could I pretend that
everything had been erased between us. I hated him now because I had loved him then.
I moved in front of Prince Wenshuang, blocking his path. My fingers clutched the jade hilt of my sword so tightly, the rubies dug into my palm. “I can’t let you do this.”
His pupils were slits of yellow flame. “Perhaps it would be best if you didn’t survive after all.”
I lunged at him, my sword raised high. He slammed it
away with his blade, before flying toward me. I spun aside, whirling to kick at him. He dodged, I missed. As my sword
arced toward his chest, he ducked—too slow—my blade slicing his ear. As blood trickled down his neck, a snarl erupted from his throat. I dove at him again—the air
thickening with his energy as a gleaming shield encased him now. My sword crashed into his barrier, my arm
throbbing as I staggered from the rebound. Before I could recover, he seized my wrist, twisting it roughly as my
weapon clattered to the floor.
His fist plowed into my temple, his rings cutting into my flesh. I gasped as pain exploded through my head.
Darkness bloomed, as I fought against the beckoning void. If I fainted now, Wenzhi and I would die. Prince Wenshuang charged at me—so quick, I was caught unaware—his arms locking around my waist, jerking my body against his,
forcing me into a repulsive embrace. The fury in his
expression morphed into something more sinister, which made me want to hurl up the contents of my stomach. If only I had my powers, I would have flung him against the
wall until every bone in his immortal body broke. And still, it would not be enough.
My legs lashed out instead, my knee driving into his abdomen. He flinched, but did not loosen his hold. As I
thrashed against him, he twisted my arms behind me and spun me around, shoving me against the ground with
blinding force. My head slammed into the marble—stinging
—as my blood splattered across the floor. As he crouched over me, he held me firmly down by my shoulder blades as I writhed in his grip.
“If only I could tell my little brother about this.
Unfortunately for him, he’ll never awaken.” He was so
close to me, flecks of his spittle sprayed across my cheek.
I gagged, trying to twist away from him. His fingers dug into my flesh with bruising force, his breath was hot and thick against my neck. Fear racked me as a thought flitted across my mind . . . that maybe death might be a mercy after all.
No, I banished it at once, sucking in a mouthful of air and screaming as loudly as I could. Let the guards come, I
thought wildly, let them capture me. I would rather be a prisoner than at the mercy of this monster. But it was futile, the prince’s privacy shield swallowing the sound. Yet I did not stop—what had begun as a hollow cry of fear morphing into a bellow of white-hot rage, burning away my terror,
kindling the fire in me . . . that I would fight.
Prince Wenshuang jerked away, perhaps disconcerted by the ferocity in my voice. Just for a heartbeat, but it was enough. I struck then, bashing the back of my head into his face with all the force I could muster. A crack ripped the air. He released me with a curse, pressing his hand to his
nose to stem the gush of blood. Leaping to my feet, I
grabbed my sword from the ground and swung it at him. He went scarlet with rage as lights sparked from his palm,
a bolt of flame already streaking my way. My sword flashed up, blocking his attack—tendrils of fire crackling along the blade which shattered into silver shards. I did not pause,
dropping down to slide across the marble floor, kicking his legs out from under him. He fell with a thump, groaning
where he lay. I searched frantically for another weapon, not daring to look away from him—already he was scrambling up, his expression one of murderous fury. My blade was destroyed, yet the jade hilt in my grip was heavy and
crusted with gems. Raising it high, I smashed it against his temple with all my might—and then, again. It struck with a sickening crunch, his eyes widening before they fluttered shut.
I panted, fighting the urge to retch as I dropped the hilt.
Blood poured from the gash on his forehead. If he were mortal my blow would have crushed his skull like a soft- boiled egg. I felt no pity for him though for planning to
murder his sleeping brother, for what he had tried to do to me. A part of me wondered, should I kill him? All it would take was a single arrow from my bow.
Racing to the cabinet, I pried the remnants of its door apart—carefully, as I could not drop my guard. With the prince unconscious, his privacy shield was no more. My
fingers closed around the jade of my bow, which I snatched up at once. Sweeping aside the debris, I plunged my hand in deeper to find a small wooden box. As I flipped the lid open, the pearls glowed back at me, luminous and bright. I could have laughed aloud from relief. Plucking out the one that gleamed with midnight fire, I held it up, whispering
the Black Dragon’s name—praying the wind would carry my words swiftly to the Eastern Sea.
A groan pricked my ears. I whirled to see Wenzhi stirring, his head swinging from side to side like he was suffering
some restless dream. The draught was wearing off! My fingers tightened around the bow, even as I recoiled from the temptation. I would be no better than his brother if I did. And surely, the guards would barge in at the sound, trapping me inside the room. Bracing myself, I barreled
through the doors, sprinting across the courtyard. Startled cries erupted behind me, from the soldiers caught unaware by my sudden dash. Their stupor didn’t last; the coils of their power already surging forth to catch me. Worse yet, a familiar voice called my name in a desperate cry. Wenzhi.
Fully awake now and racing after me, his long legs
outpacing mine with every step. The air shimmered with his magic, flecks of ice glistening in the air—
I swung sharply down another path, evading his
enchantment—but a wall loomed before me, its smooth
stone impossible to scale. Footsteps thudded louder; they were almost upon me. Leaping onto one of the marble pillars, I clambered up it, using the ornate latticework as a foothold. I had enough practice doing so in the Jade Palace.
On the rooftop, I drew the Jade Dragon Bow, almost weeping at the familiar crackle of its power. With my
energy still bound, the string was stiff as it cut into my fingers, the Sky-fire a shadow of its former might. I could
only pray it would suffice as I aimed it downward, at the enemy who would emerge at any moment—my insides wound tight at the thought of having to release it.
But then, the pine trees shuddered, bent over by a gust of wind which tore their fragrant needles free, blanketing the grass. The waning moon vanished, hidden behind the
shadowy creature that descended toward me, its amber eyes glowing like two stars in the sky. The Black Dragon, its immense form undulating as it hovered above.
Wenzhi appeared, climbing up with agile grace. He
moved toward me, only halting at the sight of the blazing arrow aimed at his chest.
“I should sink this into your wicked heart.”
His gaze burned into mine as he took a step closer. “Why don’t you then?”
I gripped the bow tighter, holding the arrow steady. It would be so easy to release it. He was awake, he was
baiting me; there was no dishonor in this. Yet why did I hesitate? Shouts from below, caught my attention. Clouds swooped down from the sky, summoned by his soldiers.
Soon, they would ascend and give chase.
The sky was no longer impenetrably dark, splintered by slivers of light. Dawn was almost upon us. Soon, the
Celestial Army would march . . . and I was running out of time.
My fingers loosened on the string. The arrow disappeared. I spun on my heel, racing across the roof, leaping off the end as my legs arced in the air. My hand
grasped a golden claw, straining to hold on as the dragon’s tail coiled around my waist to lift me upon its back.
Through the delicate fabric of my robe, its scales were as hard and cold as stone.
The Black Dragon soared into the sky. Faster than any bird, faster than the wind itself. Looking down, I caught my first glimpse of the Demon Realm, the city resting on an endless bank of violet clouds. Silk lanterns floated around,
casting an ethereal glow over the houses of ebony and stone. Their roofs were arched with upturned eaves on each corner, glazed in brilliant shades, like jewels in the
night. Towering above them was the palace I had fled from, its iridescent stone tiles shimmering with the elusive
beauty of a rainbow.
The city was quiet, snared in the throes of slumber. Yet try as I might, I could not drown Wenzhi’s voice from my mind, and the anguish with which he had called my name. The Black Dragon’s powerful body covered vast distances in mere moments. Soon the Demon Realm vanished from my sight, as though it were a nightmare I had awakened
from—except for the memories etched deep, and the pain shadowing my heart.
