by Mary Fan
I grasp for something—anything—to hold onto while the mechanical beast pitches, either reeling from the other dragon’s fireballs or trying to dodge them. The movements are frantic, directionless. The floor tilts, and I trip. My thoughts turn to Tai, who’s probably being thrown across the vehicle too. He’s frozen in time, but would that keep him from being injured when he lands against the metal floor and walls?
Anlei! You must take control! Ibsituu’s voice whispers past my ears. We can fire when you need us to, but we need direction!
Gritting my teeth, I make my way back to the controls and seize the wheel. The other dragon approaches from the left. I grab the joystick and twist the dragon’s head to face it.
“Fire!” I yell.
A stream of yellow explodes from my dragon’s jaws and hits the enemy machine. What remains of its head—now a charred mechanical skull with exposed engines—turns toward me. I rush to steer my vehicle away from it, dodging its blast.
The metal beast flails. I turn the wheel, bringing my dragon alongside the other.
“Fire!”
A blast tears through the other dragon. This time, it’s enough to rip apart what remains of the head—the control center. The rest of the machine remains airborne, but thrashes about erratically. A satisfied smile curls my lips. I’ve won my first victory against the armada.
A cannon from one of the remaining ships launches a blast at me. I turn the wheel but fail to evade the shot; the impact shakes the vessel, and I cling to the wheel’s spokes to keep from falling. I try to aim the head of the dragon I’m piloting, but its movements are shakier than before. The machine’s damaged.
Our one mechanical dragon can’t defeat the armada when we’re so outnumbered. I have to find Kang. That’s what matters—not battling individual vehicles.
I focus on evading the attacks instead of firing back, hard as it is to pass up the opportunity to destroy. I think about Tai and how any moment, Ibsituu’s spell could wear off and he could bleed to death. My heart pounds to the rhythm of kuai dian! kuai dian! as it urges me to hurry.
My one advantage seems to be speed. Perhaps having willing spirits helps the vehicle move faster. Or perhaps Kang is unconcerned with my catching up to him.
I weave the dragon between vehicles, dodging cannon fire and scanning the fleet for the ship I saw Kang board earlier. My guess is that it’s at the front, leading the rest.
A glimmer of gold catches my eye, and I risk a glance down to see what it is. Several mechanical oddities zoom toward the fleet. Bronze phoenixes and metal butterflies—the kinds of flying novelties built to adorn festivals and amuse children, except much larger. They speed toward the fleet and crash into Kang’s ships. Though they don’t do much damage, they draw the cannons away from me.
My eyes widen. “What are those?”
The Yueshen have possessed them as well. Ibsituu’s voice is barely audible through the rumble of the engines. Suyin sent a messenger back to her people asking for help. This is how they answered.
“That’s amazing.” At least the diversion will help me keep this dragon flying a little while longer.
Another blast shakes the floor. The ominous clunks of machinery surround me. A metal panel rips off the ceiling, and cold air blasts my face. I grip the controls so tightly my palms hurt.
Then, I spot it—the viceroy’s flagship. The same dragon-headed vessel, with its majestic masts, enormous propellers, and tiered buildings that took me from Dailan. I would have noticed it if it were among the armada in the cavern … It must have been stored elsewhere, with the smaller fleet the Emperor knew about and condoned.
No wonder I was able to catch up. Kang didn’t head to the capital immediately, but stopped to fetch his flagship. My lip twists in a wry grin. His pride will be his downfall.
Another panel flies off my vehicle. My mind turns with alarm to Tai and how he’s lying vulnerable in another part of the dragon. If this machine goes down, he’ll go down with it.
The dragon’s head jerks abruptly without my command, and the jaws yawn open.
“No!”
It’s too late—the fireball explodes against the flagship. I stare at the flames in horror. Destroying the flagship would mean killing Kang, but for all I know, it could destroy the River Pearl as well.
The flames dissipate. To my surprise, not a single scorch mark mars its gleaming hull. I twist my mouth, uncertain whether to be relieved. It appears that the viceroy built an indestructible ship.
No wonder he took the time to get it. He must have infused the flagship with additional powers to guard it against attacks. Perhaps he even anticipated that his own creations might be used against him. But that doesn’t mean I can’t board and confront him one-on-one.
The only way to get from my ship to his is to jump. My stomach plummets, but I haven’t come this far to let fear stop me. Besides, people are counting on me. The spirits trapped by Kang’s dark magic, the entire Empire … and Tai.
Thinking of him steels my determination. The enormity of all that’s at stake weighs on my soul, threatening to overwhelm me, but focusing on one person gives me clarity. The thing that will save him is within reach.
Nothing will stand in my way. Nothing.
I bring the dragon closer to the flagship until I’m near enough that the deck appears to be only a few yards in front of the window. Cyborg soldiers pace across it. They must have joined Kang when he fetched his flagship. They’ll be tougher foes than the clumsy automatons were.
I glance at the open space where the panel tore off. It’s large enough for me to climb through. If I can crawl onto the dragon’s snout, I can make the leap to Kang’s ship.
Cannon fire blasts toward the dragon’s side. I twist its body without changing the position of its head to avoid a direct hit.
“Keep the dragon in this position!” I shout over the noise. “I’m going to board the ship. Those of you who are joining me—now’s the time.”
Ibsituu seeps from a wall near the opening, her calm expression incongruous with the chaos around me. Yet fierceness radiates from her eyes. She lifts her hands. A bolt of blue lightning sparks between her palms. She appears more transparent than previously, and my eyes struggle to differentiate between her white clothing and the bright sky behind her.
Beside her, Suyin materializes with six Yueshen—three men and three women. Though none wear armor, I can tell at once that they’re warriors. Clad in long, belted robes of bright green, they hold themselves with the practiced focus of soldiers.
Suyin gives me a quick nod and blinks out along with the Yueshen warriors.
Ibsituu places a translucent hand on my shoulder, though I can’t feel it. “I’m reaching the limits of my astral projection, but I will remain as long as I can.”
I swallow hard.
This means I have less than an hour to get the River Pearl and save Tai. I doubt I’ll last that long on Kang’s ship anyway.
“Good luck.” Ibsituu soars to the flagship, where the Yueshen are already throwing silver spells at the cyborg soldiers.
I clench my jaw and duck through the hole in the wall. I turn to face the dragon’s side, my back to the sky. Digging my fingers into the protruding edges of the panels—what looked like scales from a distance—I pull myself sideways toward the snout. My breaths grow quick and my muscles tight as I climb along the outside of the dragon. The ground below looks so desperately far away that the treetops blend into a carpet of green. Wind rushes past me, threatening to blow me off. I tighten my grip and narrow my eyes.
By the time I make it to the snout, my limbs are quivering. I ignore the feeling. Maybe if I pretend I’m okay, I will be.
The flagship’s deck stretches beyond the dragon’s snout. Though many of the cyborg soldiers are presently fending off blasts cast by the Yueshen and Ibsituu, several stand along the edge of the ship with their eyes fixed on me, weapons drawn and ready.
This is my death—I have no chance.
Still,
I have to try. If I fail, Kang will conquer the Empire and impose his tyrannical rule upon everyone within its borders. A monster who killed his own wife and tried to kill his own son will never face justice. I’m the only one who can stop it, and I will not fail.
I crawl along the dragon’s snout until I reach the tip. I glare at my goal—the deck, and the cyborg soldiers patrolling it. It’s time to act.
The enemy is waiting.
I seize the sword from my back and spring off the dragon’s snout with all the power my legs can muster. For a moment, I fly.
I raise my blade, hungry for action.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
BATTLE IN THE SKY
I land on the deck. Before I even get the chance to straighten, the nearest cyborg brings his weapon down toward me. Gasping, I hold my sword out at a downward angle. When the blades meet, I immediately move, letting the other slide off. Fiery flashes burst from enchanted metal. I swing and catch the man in the side.
He cries out and doubles over. A fierce kind of gladness washes over me. Though this is the first time I’ve seriously wounded a fellow human in combat, all I feel is triumph. He may be a man, not an automaton or a Ligui, but he allied himself with the one who created those monsters.
Before the first man hits the ground, I find myself locked in combat with another two. Fury possesses my arms as the Yueshen possessed the mechanical dragon, and I let it flame brightly.
One of the cyborgs slices at my neck. I lean backward, arcing my spine. The blade passes over my face—and lands in the bicep of the other man. He’s so close, his scream buzzes in my ears.
I twist out from under the blade and take advantage of the first man’s distraction to stab him through the gut. Blood splashes onto me, hot and metallic.
A fourth soldier charges at me, and I prepare to face him, but a white blast catches him before he reaches me. The metal enhancements encasing his right arm explode with sparks and flames.
Whirling, I find Suyin muttering unintelligibly as she rhythmically spreads and contracts her fingers, between which brilliant white balls form. She punches both hands out, and one of the spells hits a cyborg in the leg, causing him to stumble forward. The other misses, but the deck catches fire where it lands.
Beyond it, I spy the magnificent tiered building in the center of the deck. Kang’s chambers. He must be inside right now.
What feels like lightning zaps through my core, spurring me forward. But I only make it a few steps before an invisible force knocks into me. I barely manage to keep myself from falling.
A scream shreds the air. I whip my head to see Suyin doubled over in pain. Black scorch marks blot her robes. I stare, wondering what could have injured a Yueshen, and spot one of the cyborgs aiming a pistol at her.
I leap over, stretching my sword out between the barrel and Suyin. The cyborg fires again, and the projectile hits my blade. The grip grows hot. A scorching sensation pulses up my arms. I refuse to cry out even as the pain spreads into my shoulders and causes my muscles to quake.
The man shifts his aim and fires at me. A blue lightning strike hits his torso, and he falls backward. The shot passes close enough for me to feel its heat on my cheek.
“Anlei!” Ibsituu’s voice booms above the din of fireballs and pistol shots, and I realize she must have been the one who saved me. “Remember your task!”
I nod and turn back to the building. The ornate trim glitters from the light of dozens of magic missiles zipping through the air, incongruently beautiful amid the violence. All around me, the Yueshen toss their fireballs and lightning strikes at the cyborg soldiers. Some fall, but many others use their swords to deflect, then fire back with their enchanted pistols. Kang must have prepared them to fight spirits.
Ibsituu dissolves like mist after firing one last bolt of lightning, and I know she’s reached the end of her astral projection. Only Suyin and a few Yueshen warriors remain.
I sprint up the wooden steps—splintered and charred from stray blasts—leading to the building. The door bursts open before I reach the top.
Kang stands beneath its gilded frame, glaring down with cold, narrowed eyes. From this angle, their shape strikes a familiar chord, and the memory of the Shadow Warrior staring down at my father’s fallen body flashes through my head. Though they were obscured by a supernatural white glow, I see those same eyes in Kang now.
A sword gleams in his grip, glittering with carved symbols and golden magic. He doesn’t speak a word before swinging at me. I manage to block, but he has the high ground, and he leans into our locked weapons with the full force of his strength. My arms tremble. I try to twist out from under the attacking blade, but he shifts his position, keeping me locked beneath him.
My left foot slips back toward the edge of the step. Kang’s lip twists into a snarl. His expression is one of disgust—as if he’s stamping on a bug. I feel my body collapsing all around me. Maybe if I weren’t exhausted from this endless day with its endless fights, I’d find the energy to free myself. But even my rage can’t keep my knees from buckling.
Kang continues pressing his blade into mine, forcing my arms to bend. The edge of my sword is inches from my neck, with his blade crossing it so close to my face I can almost feel it.
Gods of Heaven and Earth, I’m going to die by the very sword I vowed to plunge into my father’s murderer.
My foot slips again, and my heel dangles over empty air. Struck by a desperate idea, I jump backward, throwing myself over the edge of the steps.
Kang’s blade slides down toward me, and its edge nicks my cheek. Wind stings my wound as I tumble to the deck below. A cyborg aims his pistol at me, but lowers it abruptly. I glance up to see Kang with his hand raised—a gesture that says stop. He wants to kill me himself. At least he won’t cower behind his soldiers.
“Face me, Kang!” I raise my sword, fire sizzling through my bones.
Kang gives me a disdainful look. He slowly descends the stairs, his silk robes swirling in the wind. One of his long, loose sleeves flaps around his forearm, but the other sits heavily on his wrist. I recall the dagger that struck Tai and how it seemingly appeared from nowhere. That must be where he keeps it—I’ll have to be mindful that he doesn’t pull the same surprise on me.
My muscles quiver with a strange mix of exhaustion and excitement. The moment Kang’s foot hits the deck, he lunges. I leap to the side and use my blade to smack his away. I start to attack, but a stray blast—whether from a cyborg or the Yueshen, I can’t tell—flies toward me. I duck. The heat singes the top of my head.
The next thing I know, Kang is bearing down on me. I drop into a roll, narrowly avoiding his swing. By the time I scramble to my feet, his blade is upon me again, his hateful eyes glittering behind it. I hold up my sword in time to keep from being sliced in half, but his strength is too much for my exhausted arms. My blade flies out of my control, arcing over my shoulder.
I manage to keep my grip, but don’t get a chance at a counterattack before I’m forced to defend again. He strikes over and over, his blade pounding into mine with the relentlessness of a typhoon. Each blow is deliberate, calculated. I swing wildly just to keep up my defenses.
Explosions ring in my ears. I’m vaguely aware of the remaining Yueshen still fighting the cyborgs. In the distance, the wail of strained machinery and the thwacking of propellers sound from the bronze creatures powered by the Yueshen as they try in vain to slow the fleet any way they can.
Kang drives me back and back and back until I can retreat no further. My heel finds the edge of a wall. He’s forced me against one of the buildings.
Triumph flashes across his eyes. He lowers his blade.
I seize the opening and dive into an attack—only for his sword to meet mine in a movement so quick I barely feel the impact against my blade. With a rapid twist, he forces my weapon so far to the side, it rips out of my grasp.
Cold seizes every inch of me as I hear my blade clatter against the deck. Curses swirl through my head. How
did I fail to see that coming?
Kang strides up to me. I try to back away—only to find myself pressed against the wall. His body is nearly against mine—too close for a front kick or a knee to the stomach. He shoves his blade against my throat, and it stings my skin.
But I refuse to accept defeat.
I refuse.
“What a waste.” Kang stands so close, his disgusting breath rustles my hair. “You would have made a beautiful bride.”
The words roil my stomach, and I spit in his face.
He scowls. “A quick death is too good for you. The only question is whether I have the patience to keep you alive any longer.”
He presses his blade further into my skin, and I feel a hot stream of blood slide down my neck.
Then, I feel something else—his wide sleeve swinging against my collarbone. It’s heavy—heavier than any sleeve should be.
The dagger.
I don’t think—I just move. One hand dives into his sleeve and finds the hilt tucked into a pouch inside. The other punches out and shoves his blade back. Pain lances through my palm, but I don’t care.
I dig the dagger into Kang’s chest, shoving it in as far as I can.
Kang cries out in shock. Using the few inches left between us, I lift my knee and jab it forward into his gut, forcing him back.
The moment his blade is far enough from my throat, I duck under it. My gaze catches my sword lying a few feet away. I dive for it.
Kang, reeling but still standing, takes one more shot at me. I knock his blade out of the way and channel all the strength I have left into one mighty swing.
My blade slices through his neck. Blood spurts into my face.
It’s delicious.
His head tumbles to the ground. The thud and the roll are like music, and the ensuing crash from the rest of his body falling forms a satisfying coda.
Kang is dead. The Shadow Warrior, slain. The murderer of my father, the captor and torturer of countless spirits, the traitor and would-be conqueror of the Empire—destroyed.