Yuánchi, look here. I tried to convey the position and felt him puzzling over my request. The skies flipped fully upside down, inverted trees rushing overhead, then Pemberley House came into view and spun right-side up. His vision fixed on a hillside beyond the lake.
I felt myself uselessly squinting my own eyes. An old memory made me ask,Can you look farther…
There was a tightening. The view faded at the edges but sharpened in the center.
There was a dark gash in the hillside. A cave mouth. The Britons called it Pemberley Cavern, although it was small compared to the huge caverns farther north in Derbyshire. Still, one could walk twenty paces into the hill.
If I wished to hide from a dragon, I would hide underground, too.
Yuánchi, I must speak with Mary privately. I will find you again soon.
I drew my senses back within myself, opened my eyes, and found Mary waiting in front of me. The yard was full of rushing servants, the clatters and bangs of carts moving, and urgent voices.
“You are still here,” I said, a little surprised.
“You told me to stop. I stopped,” she said. Mary, as perfect as always. “Georgiana has gone to fetch Mr. Darcy.”
“I know where the dagger is. Where their captive wyfe is wielding it.” Watching the disciplined exodus from Pemberley, I knew why. “Our enemies need to be close. Pemberley is not a ship isolated at sea. Forewarned, the royal family could escape. They need a vantage to watch the house. To hunt down every fleeing person.”
I thought that a strategic insight, but Mary said impatiently, “Whereis the dagger?”
“In the cave across the lake. It is a two-mile ride through the hills. Too far to reach in time. But Yuánchi can be there in a minute. Mary… if he throws his breath into the cave, this would end. The cave would collapse to a molten tomb. The dagger would be destroyed. The men who control the dagger would die. But their captive, the wyfe who commands Fènnù, would die with them.”
Mary went silent, her eyes wide. She would be remembering Miss Rees.
My guilt from that day had lost its fire, the way all grief cools into the black iron of mourning, but now it burst hot in my chest. “I do not know if it is right. Should it be done?”
Mary stepped back. “You cannot ask me!”
“I must. I need a mind I trust. You are not infected with a thousand years of vengeful wyves butchering enemies.”
“Lizzy, this is beyond me. I am sworn to do no harm.” She cast a desperate look around the yard. Hunting for Georgiana. “Are you saying this evacuation is hopeless? Will we die if you let them live?”
The answer was on my tongue, short and blunt. I held it back. Speaking would force my hand.
Seeking an alternative, or just to delay, I closed my eyes and reached out again to that spot of oily black.
Think as our enemies do. They expect Yuánchi to defend us; that is the sole reason we would shelter at Pemberley. So they do not fear a battle between Yuánchi and Fènnù. They know they will win.
An old memory surged, even more vivid—did that mean Fènnù was nearer? Honorable teacher, stiff with age, white-haired as snow, spoke: “Attack where your enemy is unprepared. Appear where you are unexpected. Fall like a thunderbolt.”
Destroying the cave was the unexpected attack. Our enemy could not know that I sensed dosed wyves. But I would murder an innocent woman.
Consider if you must, but prepare as well. Only a coward lets indecision force their choice.Yuánchi, fly to the lake. Be ready.I felt wind rush over his scales as he turned in the sky.
Mary’s voice came, abrupt and urgent. “Lizzy, I have realized that you cannot do this. The dagger must not be destroyed. That is what I wished to discuss. We need all three items to heal the fracture. Our enemies hunt for the items, too. That is why they stole Queen Mary’s pendant. They seek power more deadly than what Fènnù provides. But the queen tricked them. She tricked all of history.”
I understood her words, but it was the passion in her voice—the shining illumination of her life—that made me decide. Whatever punishment I earned, I would accept. “I do not want you to die, Mary. Or Darcy, or your beloved Georgiana. Besides, your books will be gone if I do nothing. Then how would you solve these puzzles?”
Yuánchi reached the lake. I compared his position to the black tendril of control. Yes, the cave.
But the tendril had thinned. Weakened. Was it vulnerable? I tried to break it like I would the influence of a lesser wyfe, but the essence of the black dragon anchored both ends, stronger than I.
Still, it was unquestionably wavering. Diminishing in a quickening, fluttering pulse. “They are losing control. The venom is wearing off, or… I think the wyfe is weakening. She may be dying.” Selfish, perfidious relief filled me.
More vivid yet, another memory overtook me. My father cross-legged opposite me. He was a powerful man, thick through his swordsman’s arms and chest, honed in intellect, rich with wisdom.
The tip of his brush rose from the paper. He had inked: “The pinnacle of skill is to subdue your enemy without battle.”
