“Have you ever tried to compel the tiger before?” I asked Kuro.
“No,” said Kuro, wrinkling his brow. “But anyway, I don’t need to. We have the same goals.”
Because Baihu wanted the veil restored, I remembered. She wanted the realms to remain in balance. I’d forgotten that just because the dragon wished for chaos did not mean the tiger wanted the same.
“Not all spirits are violent. They’re like us; they vary in disposition and temperament.”
“Should we split up and target different gates?” Kuro asked. “That way, if one of us is intercepted, the other can still go on.”
I understood the logic, but my last conversation with the dragon made me reconsider.
“Humans are weak-blooded creatures,” Qinglong had said. “Their only real strength lies in their numbers. Fortunately, they rarely agree on anything, so even that advantage is inaccessible to them.”
Perhaps the dragon had inadvertently shown me his hand.
My gaze drifted to Kuro’s sketch in the dirt, which reminded me of the drawings of another.
“Long, long ago, in a time before ours, spirits and men walked the earth together. They say it was an era of chaos and instability, because the spirits were capricious and fickle, and the emperor a weak and corrupt man.”
Consort Caihong’s story spoke of remnants of old gods, fossilized pieces of amber left on the caverns of the Red Mountains.
“Only, the emperor’s bones had fossilized into amber, and just as the father had once shared qi with his son, now this amber could be used to bridge qi from person to person. Understanding his father’s last gift to him, the prince gave the amber to his people. Together, they joined hands and shared their qi across the land, and thus with their great numbers the first veil between spirits and men was formed.”
Her tale differed from the versions I’d heard, but they all shared a belief in the bones of old gods, used to form a veil between realms. What if? I wondered. It wouldn’t be the most outrageous story that had turned out to hold some grain of truth.
Still mulling it over, I shared the story with Kuro. “You wouldn’t happen to know which caves the story is referring to, would you?” I asked.
He hesitated. “It’s not exactly the same, but in Leyuan, we tell a different tale. Have you heard of the Reed Flute Caves? They’re a few li from First Crossing.”
I shook my head.
“Legend has it their stalagmites are the fossilized amber remains of mythical creatures, back when they freely roamed our world.”
My mouth fell open as an old memory resurfaced. Sky had actually intended to visit those caves, until I’d derailed his plans: “A seer told my father he could find a powerful weapon in the Reed Flute Caves.”
I scrutinized Kuro. “You think it’s the same amber?”
“I’d take our chances,” he said.
If we joined our powers as one, Kuro’s qi would become mine, and mine his. I shuddered but nodded. Once our life forces were intertwined, we could likely never disentangle them.
“So we pay a visit to the Reed Flute Caves, join our powers together, and then use impulsion to restore qi to the veil,” continued Kuro, settling on his haunches. “Instead of bleeding ourselves to death like jiangshi. I like it. More respectable.”
“It will take time,” I cautioned. “And the more violent spirits are bound to cause trouble.”
Kuro grimaced, but I wasn’t finished.
“We’ll likely lose ourselves during the process,” I continued, recalling my previous attempts at mental manipulation. “As our minds wander, our bodies will be left vulnerable and undefended.”
“You won’t be undefended,” said Sky from the fire, startling me—I hadn’t realized he was still awake. “When the time comes, I’ll guard you.”
He got up and motioned for me to switch places with him.Blearily, I saw that my shift was over. The night was bleeding into early morning.
“What about me?” asked Kuro jokingly.
“Both of you,” Sky amended, though his jaw twitched. “I’ll muster my best men for the job.”
“How can I trust they won’t turn traitor and off us in our sleep?” asked Kuro suspiciously. “Particularly after your father spread all that propaganda about us being black magic practitioners.”
