I woke with a gasp,trying to shoot upright in bed only to find my arms tied down. I opened my mouth but my throat was too parched to make a sound.
“You’re awake.” Sky sat by my bed, face haggard and worn. To himself: “It actually worked.”
I struggled against my bonds, and he seemed to remember himself, untying the ropes that bound me to the bed. “I’m sorry. You weren’t…yourself. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”
He brought a cup of water to my lips, and I drank greedily, as if I hadn’t had water in days. I sat up, feeling as if I could breathe again. It was as if a long-borne weight had suddenly been lifted off my chest, and now I was free.
But of course, I thought, looking down. A necklace was tucked beneath my tunic. Though it was cleverly ornamented to appear like a graduated string of imperial jade beads, I could tell one piece of jade was not like the others. It was my seal.
I exhaled in sweet, utter relief.
“Don’t tell anyone,” said Sky. “You’re technically not supposed to have it. But we figured no one will notice, given the current state of things.”
“What state of things?” I asked, feeling like myself again for the first time in weeks, if not months. “What’s going on?”
“Father…he’s—”
“Di Di, I knew I’d find you here.” Winter popped his head through the door, sounding, for once, less than calm. “Let’s go. Sorry, Meilin, we’re horrendously late.”
“I’ll explain later,” said Sky, squeezing my hand before racing after his brother.
In the ensuing silence, I marveled at how much better my body already felt. While unfamiliar bruises covered my body and a shallow burn mark marred the back of my hand, I felt more whole than I had in months. I got to my feet gingerly, and found, to my delight, I could now stand without losing my balance. My vertigo, which had followed me everywhere like a faithful shadow, was no more.
“My lady, would you like to bathe?”
I was startled to find a moonfaced girl standing in the doorway, dressed in a blossom-pink gown with flowers pinned up in her long shining hair.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I’m your maidservant, Lotus. And that’s Lily.”
Lily bowed. She had a face as angular as Lotus’s was plump. She was tall while Lotus was short, somber faced while Lotus smiled continually. And yet, by their easy manner with each other, I guessed they were close friends.
“We’re honored to serve an esteemed guest of the prince’s,” said Lily.
“I’m not a…” I trailed off, blushing. “I’d love a bath.”
The bath they drew up was warm and scented with rose petals. My rooms were airy and spacious, with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the Resting Cloud Pavilion and the nine-turn bridge. I dozed while they combed and pinned my hair, then applied cosmetics to my face. By the time they were done with me, I was unrecognizable even to myself. My hair had grown long and unruly in the dungeons, but now it had been combed and pinned up in the shape of a flying crane, adorned with pearl and jade hairpins that chimed every time I moved my head. They’d dressed mein fluttering silk robes that billowed out behind me as I walked, their sleeves so long they swept the floor, concealing the two slim iron bands encircling my wrists. The dress was a light green to match the jade in my hair, with intricately fine hyacinth embroidered in silver thread on the bodice.
“I can’t wait for the prince to see you like this,” said Lotus conspiratorially. “Perhaps he’ll propose on the spot.”
My face turned red, which made her giggle. “Do you know where the princes are?” I asked, thinking of how Sky had rushed out with Winter.
“The Imperial Commander sent out an urgent summons for his children,” said Lotus. “Some suspect it is to discuss the matter of succession.”
My eyes widened. The last I’d seen him, Liu Zhuo had appeared in robust health. I was astonished that someone as power hungry as he would be willing to even consider the question.
“Is the Imperial Commander’s health in doubt?” I asked.
Lotus lowered her voice. “Some say he is not long for this world. He has not been of…sound mind, as of late.”
Did this have anything to do with Warden Hu’s line of questioning? Were Warlord Liu’s fears of the spirit realm somehow catching up to him—were they coming true? I recalled the Ruan seer who, at the start of the war, had given the Imperial Commander a prophecy: “The seer told my father a spirit would spell his demise,” Sky had said, “and the demise of Anlai itself.”
Was he falling mad from paranoia? Or, worse, had he somehow found a spirit of his own? I wished there were a way to request an audience with him, to ascertain his state for myself. Yet to demand to see the Imperial Commander was to risk death. No, I would have to bide my time.
Warden Hu had been particularly curious about the spirit realm gates, I recalled. He had tried to learn how to stop their numbers from increasing. And why were they appearing? Certainly, without Chancellor Sima and me, there were no more spirit summoners in our world.
Unless there were others I did not know about.
