by Jeff Wheeler
She unfurled her wings and soared down to the palace, gliding on a current of air. The previous year she had been a prisoner in the palace, unable to leave. Doors and walls were obstacles then, not just the enchanted stone lions and dragons. Now she could flutter over them without the meiwood cricket.
Gliding over the concubines’ garden, her flight shielded by the trees, she came to the building adjacent to the training yard for Xisi’s guards. Soundlessly she landed. The chatter of birds filled the air as they greeted the day with their song. She’d chosen the time not only for the cover of darkness but also because many birds would be active. Crouching in the shadow of the wall, she reached out to the birds nearby and used their eyes and senses. Based on the view from the windows, the building seemed deserted.
Bingmei rose and walked purposefully around the corner toward the entrance. She suspected Xisi’s guards wouldn’t have a warning smell—most of them had probably been stripped of their spirit-soul like Zhuyi—so she would have to rely on her other senses to guide her, especially sound. Moving carefully, ears perked, she hurried into the changing room and snatched a set of silk clothes that would add to her disguise. Rather than change in the building, where she might be caught, she hastened to a copse of trees outside the training yard and switched clothes in the cover they provided. She cinched up the belt and examined herself. Warriors were allowed weapons and only female warriors were allowed inside these precincts. She’d blend right in.
The Phoenix Blade tugged at her from the Hall of Memory, and she could also sense Rowen in the Hall of Unity. Was he still asleep? She wanted to visit him, to whisper that she was coming for him and that the lies he’d been told about her weren’t true. Her heart burned with memories, but she swatted them down. Before she did anything else, she needed to save Shixian.
In her mind, she summoned the siskin. The bird came promptly. It gave a low warble in greeting and then flapped away and began to guide her as it had done beyond the Death Wall. She stalked through the trees for a time, but the bird led her to the open walkways connecting the inner buildings in the queen’s portion of the compound. Breathing quickly, her nerves pulling taut, she focused on her surroundings, smelling the air. Listening for pursuers. She caught a whiff of emotion from an open window she passed. Someone was awake and dreading the day to come. It wasn’t the smell of anyone she recognized.
The siskin, flying from building to building overhead, led her to a small, secluded building with a curved rooftop. It was a long bank of rooms, and all the doors were closed. Each room had two upper windows, and the siskin perched at the edge of one of them. From its gaze, she saw that there were also two windows on the other side, which faced an alley.
Standing beneath the window, she smelled the sweet cinnamon of a mother’s love coming from the windows. Bingmei heard one of the doors down the corridor open. Not wanting to be caught in the open, she leaped into the air and flew up to the sloped roof, where she immediately dropped to a low crouch.
A few moments later, she heard the brisk slap of footsteps as someone walked down the hall. She smelled a burst of anxiety, and a low-level servant hustled down the walkway where she had just been. The woman passed Bingmei’s position, oblivious to the fact that someone was crouched above her on the roof. The servant was gone a few moments later.
Bingmei, not wanting her weight to cause the roof to creak, flew to the other side, where the siskin still hovered by the open windows. Through the bird’s eyes, she was able to see into the room, and she recognized the concubine who was caring for her son. The woman was already dressed in formal robes, which she had just finished rearranging after feeding the baby. She rose and held Shixian, patting his back gently and humming a soothing song. Bingmei watched the woman’s face, full of tenderness toward the child, and felt a confusing blend of resentment and gratitude. Much better that Shixian should be with this woman than with Xisi.
Bingmei wanted to fly into the room and snatch her baby away, but she bided her time, watching to see what the woman did next. The room was not nearly as lush as Xisi’s chambers, but it was a pleasant space equipped with a wooden cradle and a formal bed veiled with curtains. A few ornate tables were set with porcelain bowls and decorative figurines.
The woman kissed Shixian’s brow several times before nuzzling his cheek with her nose. He’d fallen asleep in her embrace, and she gently laid him back inside the cradle.
The concubine crouched near the cradle, gazing at him, and a pained look came on her face. Bingmei could smell her loss, the grief of having her own daughter destroyed. A tear trickled down the woman’s cheek. Even though her expression was peaceful, her heart raged with resentment, despair, and grief as well as tenderness and love. It was a complex mash of feelings.
The concubine sighed heavily. “I must go, baobei. I’ll come again to feed you. Rest here until the wretched queen comes to see you. I wish you were my own. Sleep, sweetest. We are both prisoners here.” She grazed his cheek before rising. Her gaze shifted to the brazier, and she added some coals to it before walking to the door. Bingmei watched her produce a meiwood key and insert it into the lock, which turned over, exposing a little spark of magic. The concubine exited the room and locked the door behind her, stuffing the key into a pocket in her formal robes.
Bingmei watched the concubine walk away, still dabbing tears from her eyes, and then she was gone.
Her heart pulsed with excitement. The door was locked, but the windows, high on the walls, were still open, letting in the cool morning breeze. She smelled the peace and contentment coming from the crib. She smelled her son.
Using her invisible wings, she lifted off the roof and circled around to the front of the window. She squeezed through it and dropped down to the floor, staff in hand.
Bingmei crept to the cradle and felt power coming from it. Blinking in surprise, she saw that it was made from meiwood. Glyphs had been carved into the wood. Her stomach wrenched with dread. Of course Xisi would not have left the cradle unprotected.
A slight scuff on the floor behind her was the only warning.
Bingmei whirled around, bringing her staff up just in time to block the saber slicing at her. She deflected it and found herself face-to-face with Mieshi.
No smell had warned her, and the cruel look on Mieshi’s face showed no sisterly affection. The answer was obvious: only half of her bond sister had been brought back. Bingmei winced, realizing she’d stumbled into Xisi’s trap, but there was no time to regret the decisions that had brought her here. She parried another thrust and dodged back as Mieshi’s elbow came at her nose. The attack was full force. Suddenly Mieshi’s hand touched Bingmei’s side, and she started to draw a dianxue glyph.
Bingmei broke the connection by kicking forward sharply. The kick was blocked. The room was too small for her to use the staff effectively, so Bingmei shoved it at Mieshi before letting go. That surprised and confused her, which gave Bingmei the chance to land a blow of her own, invoking her phoenix powers. Mieshi was flung backward by the open-palm strike and sprawled on the bed where she’d been concealed the whole time.
Bingmei rushed to the cradle and reached in to grab her baby. A jolt of searing pain sizzled up her arms and shoved her back violently, causing her to crash into the far wall. The noise of the combat hadn’t woken the infant yet.
Mieshi disentangled herself from the sheets, her expression grim and determined. She wielded her saber but had set the staff aside. Bingmei felt darkness come down quickly as all four windows shut by themselves. She saw the Immortal Words glowing on each of them. She hadn’t noticed them from outside, but the words had been drawn there all along. The protective wards had been invoked, and now there was no way out of the dark room. No way to lure the fighting away from her child, who’d started wailing because of the commotion.
Mieshi launched at her again, sweeping the saber at her, but Bingmei dived and rolled. She turned back to Mieshi and caught her arm before elbowing her in the face. The blow stunned her f
riend, and she managed to disarm her just as a wooden panel on the far side of the room opened. It revealed another smell—Xisi herself.
Bingmei kicked Mieshi hard in the ribs to keep her stunned and spun to face the new threat, whirling the saber around in a slashing sweep. It wasn’t just Xisi. Zhuyi was with her.
“Look at the new bird I’ve caught in my cage,” Xisi said with a delighted grin.
Mieshi lunged at Bingmei, trying to kick her side. Bingmei didn’t want to kill her friend, but it was three against one now, and her powers were seriously weakened in such a confining space. Her worry for Shixian was also a constant distraction. She had to think and act quickly.
She dropped the blade and defended herself, blocking the attacks, and then drew the word for “still” on Mieshi with a quick swipe of her hand. Mieshi’s body locked up, and she dropped helplessly to the floor.
The cries of her baby tormented and distracted her. Zhuyi’s foot struck Bingmei in the temple.
She went down hard, her skull throbbing, and then felt a punch to her stomach before she managed to throw a kick upward and knock Zhuyi back. Bingmei flipped over backward and collided with the bed. When her bond sister came for her again, Bingmei yanked the curtains in between them and then hoisted herself into the air with her wings. Zhuyi kicked out at her through the curtain, attempting to fight even while temporarily blinded, but Bingmei landed behind her and did a phoenix fist to the back of her head. Zhuyi went down on her knees, but the fight wasn’t out of her yet. She whirled around and lunged her fist into Bingmei’s stomach, although Bingmei blocked it and countered with a punch of her own to Zhuyi’s cheek, which finally dropped her to the floor.
Bingmei turned and saw Xisi standing over the cradle. One of her pointed metal finger guards was aimed right at the child’s quivering chest. With the cessation of fighting, Shixian had started to calm. The baby was too innocent to sense the danger right above him.
“I have poison in this claw that will kill your child instantly,” Xisi said. “You know I mean it. I cannot lie in front of you, Bingmei.”
Her heart filled with fear, and she stood, staring at Xisi with horrible feelings racing through her.
“If you touch him . . .” Bingmei warned.
“You can’t kill me, Bingmei,” Xisi said. “I am immortal. But you are not. Did you happen to see a silver-barked tree on your journey? You might just be wise enough to have survived it, little bird.”
Bingmei’s heart was racing. One false move . . . Her staff lay nearby, but Xisi was too close to Shixian for her to risk lunging for it. The saber also lay beyond her reach. Mieshi couldn’t move, her eyes fixed open. She gave off no smell, not panic or worry. Zhuyi was trying to get back up, but she was still dazed.
“We did find such a tree. There was no fruit,” Bingmei said.
“Of course not. The fruit only appears once every thousand years.” She gave Bingmei a condescending, mocking smile. “You have to go into the future to get it. Do you know that Immortal Word? Hmmm?”
Bingmei did, but she didn’t reveal anything. She stared at Xisi, feeling helpless and furious. If the queen harmed her child, Bingmei would find a way to destroy her, immortal or not. Her hands trembled with pent-up energy.
An idea sparked to life inside her. A final gambit that might save them. “How do you like your immortality?” Bingmei asked, her mind suddenly sharp. “Do you enjoy your husband so much? You’ve killed him before. Let’s stop him now.”
“An alliance,” Xisi said smugly. “Yes, I thought you might try such a trick. I would only consider such a thing if we made a bond of Xieyi. An unbreakable pact. But you would never agree to my terms, little Bingmei. So we cannot have a truce. I would prefer for you to die anyway. Your purpose is fulfilled.”
Bingmei’s heart beat faster. “Why not offer the terms? Quit toying with me. Would you kill your husband again?”
“You know how much I hate him,” she said airily. “I would enjoy another season of the Dragon of Dawn without his meddling. A season where I rule. I would be willing to make him mortal again so that you can actually kill him. But his death will always be temporary. He must be killed within the Grave Kingdom to make it permanent, and that would invoke the Reckoning. No, that wouldn’t do at all.”
“What do you want?” Bingmei asked, dreading the answer.
“What do I want?” Xisi said. “You know as well as I do that our world runs on balance. I must rule with a counterpart, but I am sick of having a husband who lords over me. I want a son to rule by my side. One that I have trained in all the arts of subtlety and revenge. Someone I can mold into the true ruler of Fusang. One strong enough to extend my dominion further than Echion ever could. I want a son, Bingmei. I want your son.”
The words filled her with horror. The thought of giving Shixian over to this woman, to be raised as her heir, to be corrupted and manipulated, filled every part of her with loathing and agony. She’d brought him into this world to liberate it—to destroy Echion and Xisi for good and free the souls trapped within the Grave Kingdom. This . . . this was an abomination.
I consent. Make the pact.
The whisper in her mind shocked her.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
The Greatest Sacrifice
Bingmei knew the voice that had spoken to her. She’d heard it enough times to recognize it, but the message still made her doubt. She loved her child, felt more protective of little Shixian than she had of anything else in her life. To hand over the baby, willingly, to Xisi seared her mind and heart at the same time. Anguish gripped her, tormented her, ripped her souls apart.
“I knew you wouldn’t do it,” the Dragon Queen said. “That is why we are enemies. Our wills oppose each other. Your blind obedience to a dead bird prevents you from thinking for yourself.”
I consent. Agree to the pact.
Bingmei’s throat bulged and tears burned in her eyes as she gazed at her baby.
“I will,” she whispered, forcing the words past her throat. Her insides recoiled.
“What?” Xisi’s brow arched with suspicion. The smell of it wafted from her in waves, a dampness, like grass after a storm.
Bingmei squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. The pain was awful. So much worse than the agony with which she’d brought Shixian into the world. She’d only had her baby for a short time. Now she had to give him up. There were no words to describe the smell of her own grief.
“I consent,” Bingmei said, looking at Xisi.
“Is this a trick?”
Bingmei wanted to weep but squeezed down her emotions. A memory flickered in her mind of when she had tried to cross the Death Wall. Echion and Xisi had fought over her, each determined to be the one who devoured her, neither willing to grant the other their wish. Their selfishness was stronger than their self-interest. It compelled their every action, even now. Xisi would not back down from her demand, and Bingmei needed her help to stop Echion.
Everything in the world felt misshapen and grotesque at that moment. Why was this being asked of her?
Because I knew you had the courage to do it. Because I trusted that you would.
The world seemed to hang in the balance in that moment. A nudge either way would make it fall.
Bingmei looked into Xisi’s eyes. “You leave me no choice. Echion must be stopped before he destroys everyone. His Iron Rules do not work, Xisi. They will never work. He will continue to fail until every last soul is trapped and no one is left in the mortal world. That is our fate if this cycle continues.” She felt tears drip from her eyes. “He must be stopped.”
Xisi held her gaze, her smell distrusting but now hopeful. Had she demanded a price she’d assumed Bingmei would never consent to?
“Let us make the pact,” Bingmei said, stepping forward. Mieshi still lay on the floor, blinking, unable to move. The paralysis reminded Bingmei of the Dongxue caves when Liekou had struck her with a dianxue blow. Zhuyi rose to her feet slowly, cradling her side but posing in
a martial stance.
Bingmei lifted her arms in a protective guard. “Don’t make me hurt you again, Sister,” she warned.
“I serve the queen,” Zhuyi declared dispassionately.
Bingmei knew Zhuyi’s spirit-soul was walking the long passageways of the Grave Kingdom, lost. She wouldn’t be able to find Mieshi or Kunmia there. The thought bolstered her will. She glanced at Xisi. “You made your offer. I accepted. Will you not honor your terms?”
Xisi looked at Bingmei and then Zhuyi, her expression guarded. After a moment, she held up her hand, and Zhuyi stepped back, no longer in a martial stance.
“I admit,” Xisi said, “that you’ve surprised me. Not many can, Bingmei. So let us agree. Echion must be stopped. Only I can do this. Even if you had the poison that would turn him mortal, he would never take it from you. It must be ingested. He does not eat or drink because he does not need to. And he fears that I’ll find a way to poison him again. I’ve gotten ever so good at fooling my husband. No one else could manage it. I will do it again this time, making him mortal. Then, it’s up to you to destroy him . . . if you can.”
“What of his dragons?”
“Our dragons?” Xisi said, correcting her. “Unless the Woliu is closed, they will remain, but they are not immortal. You will need a husband to close the Woliu, Bingmei, someone equal in power with you. Again, it only matters if you survive my husband.”
“At least he will be mortal,” Bingmei said. “Tell me how the bond of Xieyi works.”
“Remove the sigil on Mieshi first,” Xisi said. “I promise they will not attack you.”
Bingmei sniffed, but she smelled no deception.