by Mary Fan
An amused smile splits my lips.
Tai flashes me a grin. “Your sister’s marvelous device is quite fashionable, don’t you think? Every noble from here to the capital will be wearing them by this time next year—even during the day.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” I shake my head. “Did you always know about the tunnel to the tombs?”
“I’d heard rumors about its existence, but Father always insisted that it caved in decades ago and no longer existed. I believed him—until the day I spied him opening a hidden door in the floor of his office. He shifted into his shadow form and flew down into the darkness. I wanted to follow or to go in after he’d left, but his automatons were always standing guard.”
I nod. Those automatons are still watching Kang’s office, which is why we’re heading to the tombs the traditional way—the way traveled by pilgrims wishing to pay tribute to the rulers of the past.
“How much farther do we have?” I ask.
Tai knits his brows. “I can see the gate ahead … you probably will too in a moment.”
I open my eyes as wide as I can, focusing on the dark path before us, but though the moon is bright, it’s not enough to illuminate the horizon. All I see is a small piece of road leading into black swaths. “How long did it take you to figure out where the tunnel led?”
Tai rubs the back of his neck. “Almost a year. I was hoping to find something in my father’s secret archive that might help me free the Yueshen. I couldn’t enter it from his office, so I had to find it from the other end—the tombs. I snuck out whenever I could, sometimes flying and sometimes driving this thing”—he raps his knuckles against the wagon—“to explore until I discovered a hidden tomb that wasn’t mapped in any of the palace’s records. When I saw the automatons guarding the entrance, I knew I’d found the right place. I was going to find a way to sneak past them, but the very next day, I learned about the River Pearl. Let’s hope they’re the only things guarding the tomb.”
“I doubt we’ll be that lucky.”
When we reach the gate to the Sijiang Tombs, we leave the vehicle just beyond the vague shadow of its tiered roof. As I follow Tai across the wide, open grounds, I yearn for sunlight so that I might get a clearer look at these eternal homes of ancient rulers. Though darkness obscures the magnificent structures, I feel their grandeur all around me. I pause in awe of stone gateways carved at sharp angles and embellished with twisting, tapering designs. Of great buildings—large enough to be houses but serving as entryways and monuments—that must shine bright with red and green and gold in the day. Of statues of stern gods dressed in flowing robes and tall hats. Each item was placed deliberately to evoke a sense of balance. I’m sure entire libraries could be filled with the methodology used in the design.
Several paces ahead, Tai glances back at me. The yellow light from a single hovering lantern, suspended by propellers, traces the confused look on his face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I rush to catch up. “I’ve just never seen anything so grand in my whole life.”
He smiles. “Magnificent, isn’t it? I’ll show you around during the day sometime. There’s so much to see.”
“I won’t have that kind of freedom after we’re done here. If we’re caught, I’m finished. Even if we’re not, Kang won’t allow me to go anywhere.”
His expression darkens. He turns away and gives the lantern a slight nudge to push it along. I follow him in sullen silence, wondering how I’m going to face the consequences of my choice tonight.
We approach an uneven path lined with rough, stacked stones. They form a tall pair of walls that seem to push back the earth. A towering, arched door, which appears embedded in a hill of stone, stands at the end. Beyond that lies the final resting place of a noble family from yesteryear. And beyond that, down a passageway no one would think to travel, lies Kang’s secret chamber.
Uneasy, I pull my sword from its strap. The door’s red paint is chipped, and small bronze domes bulge from its surface. A pair of enormous metal rings hang from its center. The doors look too heavy to move, but I reach for one of the rings anyway.
“No need for that.” Tai approaches the stones lining the path, leans his staff against them, and feels along the edges. Digging his fingers into the cracks around one of the stones, he pulls until it comes loose. He jumps out of the way as it lands on the ground with a thud.
I peer over Tai’s shoulder as he reaches into the crevice. A set of switches sits inside, and he flips them one by one. Gears clank and whir as the doors spread toward me like a pair of outreached arms. Only black lies beyond their grasp. Their movements are slow and clunky, and the thumps of machinery sound louder than thunder.
As soon as the space between them is wide enough for me to fit through, I grab the hovering lantern and speed inside. Wind buzzes through the lantern’s propellers. Tai follows.
A cool draft wafts toward me as I enter a cavernous space lined with smooth, gray stones. High walls rise toward an arched ceiling. It looks plain next to the ornate carvings outside, but the somberness of its simplicity matches its purpose. Five large, rectangular structures encased in red lacquer sit against one of the walls.
“Do you know who lies here?” Though I’m speaking no louder than usual, my voice sounds like a shout against the stillness, and my words bounce off the walls.
“A minor noble and his family,” Tai answers. “He was one of the rare individuals not directly related to a past emperor to receive a place in the Sijiang Tombs.”
“He must have performed a great feat to have been granted such an honor.”
“I’m sure he did. Still, this is a lesser tomb compared to those of the higher nobles and the emperors. It’s probably the least visited—I’m guessing that’s why my ancestors chose it for their secret tunnel.” Tai strides to the opposite end of the cavern. A slender wooden door—indistinct and easy to miss—sits against the stone walls. He taps one of its narrow hinges. “Take a look.”
It takes me a moment to realize he’s indicating a tiny space between the door and the wall. I pull the lantern as close as I can and peer through.
Three bronze automatons stand clustered in the narrow passageway beyond. Each holds a sword. They appear skeletal, with narrow limbs no wider than bones. Exposed gears are visible within their torsos, which look like brass cages with flat, horizontal bars. Unlike the painted automatons that served Kang, these have blank plates for faces. I drag my eyes down the metal frames, wondering how I’m going to destroy opponents that don’t appear to have any vulnerable spots.
“This is as far as I made it,” Tai says. “When I saw the automatons, I knew I’d need more than my staff to get past them.”
“Well, now you have me.” I give my sword a confident swing. “How does this door open?”
“I … haven’t figured that out yet.”
“Alas.” I raise my blade over my head and bring it crashing down on the door. A burst of wood chips and red sparks flies up. The door must be guarded by magic as well. The force from the impact ripples up my arms. It feels good to destroy something—especially when it’s standing between me and the answers I need. Jagged shadows play along the edges of the deep groove I created. I yank the sword out and prepare to swing again.
Tai shoots me a surprised look. “Sure, why not?” He raises his staff. The weapon shimmers as if underwater and transforms into a sword with a broad, silver blade etched with twists and swirls. They look like they could be writing in ancient characters.
Though I knew his staff hid a second purpose, my eyes nevertheless widen at the transformation. “Did Ibsituu make this weapon too?”
“Actually, it was Suyin who enchanted it. That was years ago, before she and the rest of the Yueshen were imprisoned by Mowang. It was a gift for my thirteenth birthday.”
I tilt my head. “Really? I thought she didn’t like you.”
“She doesn’t. But she’s still my family, and I’m still hers. She told me she made it for he
rself but erred in one of the spells, and so I could have it since it was flawed anyway.” He shakes his head. “I knew better than to believe her.”
I’m not sure I understand Tai’s reasoning, but his relationship with his cousin is his business.
We take turns hacking at the door, sending splinters and sparks flying. Beneath the thuds, the cracking of the wood, and the sizzle of magic, the sounds of mechanical whirring hum to life. The noise sends excitement pulsing through my veins.
My next hit widens the hole enough for me to glimpse the glowing amber lights of the automatons beyond. They must be activating.
I grab Tai’s shoulder before he takes the next swing. “That should be enough.”
He cocks his head with a puzzled look as I back away from the door, then lifts his brows. “Be my guest.”
I cross one leg behind the other and leap sideways into the door, using the extra force to launch myself off the ground and driving my heel into the fragmented wood.
I barely have time to regain my footing before a bronze sword descends upon me, glinting from the glowing yellow eyes of the automaton that wields it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
PASSAGEWAY TO TRUTH
The air glitters with the orange and yellow sparks of magic impacting magic. Energy and heat thrum through the air. The automaton presses down on my weapon, and I push back as hard as I can but can’t seem to make it budge. Beside me, weapons clang and crackle as Tai engages a second.
The machine’s mechanical eyes glow gold, but otherwise, it has no face. Just a smooth, copper mask. An unnatural, yellowish-green light shines below, but I don’t dare look down to find its source. I twist to free my sword from under its blade. My heel hits something solid behind me—the wall. Without my sword to brace against, the automaton stumbles. I glimpse exposed gears whirring on the back of its head. Encouraged, I raise my sword high and strike down.
Though my edge impacts, all that does is fill the air with snapping noises and white flares. My mechanical adversary whirls so abruptly that it wrenches my sword, still caught in the gears, from my grip. A second machine swings at me. Gasping, I drop and feel the whoosh of the blade over my head.
“How are you doing over there?” Tai’s voice rings out over the noise of clashing metal, whirring gears, and crackling magic. “I think I prefer fighting Ligui. How about you?”
“I’ll take a Ligui over these metal monstrosities any day!” Glimpsing my sword protruding from the first automaton, I scramble to seize the hilt. I’m forced back when the second lunges at me.
“They seem to like you more than me. I ought to be offended.”
“Do you ever stop joking?” I dive at my sword and reach it this time. The moment I yank it free, the second automatons strikes again. A cry of rage and frustration explodes from my throat. I stab its torso, driving the point of my blade between bronze bars. It stops against grinding metal gears.
“Look out!” Tai leaps to my side and blocks another automaton’s sword. The bronze blade is close enough for me to feel the heat of its magic. Their crossed blades spark inches from my forehead.
My weapon—still braced against the gears—shifts upward. Something gave. “Hold them off—I have an idea!”
“Only if you ask nicely.”
“Tai!”
“That didn’t sound like a question.” Tai’s shoulder bumps against mine as he fends off oncoming blades.
I ignore his lopsided grin. Using my whole body to push, I drive my blade up into the automaton’s gears. Horrible screeching noises grate against my ears. Tai’s strange laugh ripples through the passageway—what in the world does he find funny now? The automaton’s metal body spasms, causing its weapon to jerk erratically. I find satisfaction in each crack of a breaking gear and dig my weapon deeper. The automaton’s sword falls. Popping and sizzling noises erupt, and what looks like tiny threads of white lightning radiate from its torso and flow down my blade. An uncomfortable sensation—like a million bees buzzing under my skin—rushes up my arms, and a clink like shattering glass jangles for a brief moment. My sword abruptly slices all the way upward, piercing a gap in the automaton’s metal shoulder from below. The machine collapses toward me, its yellow eyes fading to blackness.
Grinning, I yank my sword and kick the broken thing backward to free my blade. Wisps of black smoke seep from the fallen machine’s torso.
“So that’s how you destroy them.” Beside me, Tai speaks between gasped breaths.
I move to defend him from an oncoming strike. “Your turn!”
Tai stabs the automaton closest to him. My world becomes a blur of blades as I hold off the attacking machines. Blood pounds in my ears and it hits me how idiotically I acted when I focused all my energy on destroying the first automaton. This would be a lot easier if I didn’t have to worry about keeping those blades away from my vulnerable partner.
But I’ve started noticing a pattern in their movements. These machines possess no skill; they can only rely on the power of their strength to hit, hit, hit. That makes them predictable.
The damaged automaton’s weapon falls, clanging as it hits the ground. A small bud of relief blooms in my chest. The passageway rings with snapping noises intertwined with the jangle of metal hitting metal. Finally, the automaton collapses.
As I parry the last machine’s blade, Tai buries his sword between the bars of its torso. The heat rising from my skin seems powerful enough to fuel an engine, and I don’t know if it’s from the exertion or the anger. When the last bronze sword falls, I raise my blade over my head and bring it crashing down into the machine. The blow doesn’t do more than dent the exposed gears, but it feels good to release some energy.
After the automaton’s eyes dim, Tai throws me an incredulous look. “And I thought I was the reckless one.” Though his words emerge smoothly, he speaks them between panted breaths. “I can’t believe you left me to fend off three blades!”
“I knew you could handle them.” I wipe the sweat from under my bangs.
Tai shakes his head. “You’re welcome for saving your life.”
“You’re welcome for saving yours.”
The warm light of the lantern, still hovering at the passageway’s entrance, illuminates the crooked tilt of his grin. I feel my own face mirroring the expression as triumph swells in my chest.
The sense of victory dissolves as I glimpse black shadows swirling around the broken machine. I recall how smoke seeped from the first one I destroyed. Now it hits me—that wasn’t just any smoke.
Inhaling sharply, I lunge at the materializing Ligui. A piece of it takes the shape of a boar’s head, which lets out a great shriek as my blade stabs the blackness. But the rest of the thing keeps gurgling upward and forms a monster with ten heads conjoined at the torso.
Each resembles the silhouette of a different animal.
Tai’s blade silences the boar head mid-screech. I step to the side to dodge a swiping claw—one of many. My back bumps up against something warm and solid: Tai’s back. Though this Ligui is one entity, it’s so large, with so many flailing appendages and snapping jaws, that it seems to surround us. Fury sharpens my vision, but the red edges are missing. I’m not fighting alone, not battling out of sheer rage. This time, I have a partner to rely on, and his back pressed against mine gives me a sense of security.
The walls shake from the creature’s screeches, but after I drive my blade into the creature’s side, it melts into the air. The echo of its cries hasn’t yet faded before I glimpse another Ligui. A stream of black pours from the second automaton.
By the time I reach it, it’s taken the shape of a large man. My sword finds its shoulder—prompting a great cry—but it doesn’t strike back. Instead, it flies out the passageway’s entrance.
A crackling noise spews from behind me. I spin. Tai decapitates a Ligui shaped like a giant lizard. More emerge from the broken automaton, erupting like an explosion of black smoke. Many are human-shaped. While that isn’t unusual, I’m sur
prised to see them race toward the doorway, and their screams sound more like voices than the usual unnatural screeches.
One flies in a zigzagging pattern and morphs into a four-legged creature. Its human-shaped head remains, and I raise my sword, but it doesn’t attack. It stumbles a few steps and morphs again—four legs joining into a single body as it becomes an enormous serpent. My eyes widen. It’s as if the Ligui doesn’t know what form to take.
Spotting more blackness rising from the third machine, I whirl. Tai destroys one Ligui before it can materialize. I slash the next—shaped like a human-sized fox—before its sharp claws can hit me. I spot something float toward Tai and move to hit it, but he catches my arm.
My confusion turns to shock as I realize what I’m facing. It’s not the featureless blackness of a Ligui … It’s a translucent woman. Her face is twisted into a grotesque mask—one eye enormous and bulging out of its socket, the other dragged down to her cheek by dripping bags beneath it. Her upper lip twists over gnashing teeth. Yet her nose and jaw appear … normal. Black patches obscure swaths of her body. Her arms are twisted at odd angles, like the gnarled branches of a dead tree, and her legs flail beneath the hem of a long, gray skirt. But the lines of silvery light crisscrossing her neck and hands carry a familiar gleam … The gleam of the Yueshen.
She darts away, then stops abruptly and spins, her long, black hair swinging over her shoulder. “I … found them …” Her voice is a rasping whisper. “All of us … in darkness …”
She screams and darts out the passageway.
“Wait!” Tai zips past me, glowing in his Yueshen form.
I sprint after them, but I’m not fast enough to keep up. I slow to a walk and stare out into the night beyond the tomb’s wide door. Both the woman and Tai are already so far away I can’t see them.
Questions hammer at my mind. Those Ligui emerged from the automatons—were they there the whole time? But how? Come to think of it, the automatons behaved like Ligui. They attacked without thought and without mercy with no regard for their own survival. Like the supernatural beasts, those mechanical terrors were things of pure aggression. Could the Ligui have possessed the automatons?