What if she doesn’t?
“She will.”
Sooah gives me a hard look. I wonder if she thinks my confidence foolish. Nevertheless, she gently cradles Yue’s head and transfers her onto my lap before standing. I reach out slowly, shakily, stroking the fur behind the fox’s ear. It’s surprisingly soft and warm.
“Yue.” I say her name slowly. If I startle her, she might attack me in surprise. I really can’t afford to lose a limb. “We need to get out of here.”
When she fails to stir, cold, genuine panic begins to fill mychest. What if she’s lost to us? It’s nothing short of cruel—to come this far only to fail.
Exhaustion seeps into my marrow, too, almost encouraged by Yue’s peaceful breathing. I fight the urge to close my eyes, tempted to give up the struggle. How easy it would be.
But I try again, short of breath and sweating profusely. I gingerly run my fingers over her old burns. They don’t seem to cause her any pain, for which I find myself grateful.
“I don’t think I can make it out of here without you, Fox. Whatever spell the Maskmaker has you under, I know you’re strong enough to fight it. Come back to me, Yue. Please.”
The next few seconds may as well last hours, the air around us so thick and heavy I feel as though I’m being crushed. I can’t imagine abandoning Yue in Hell. No one deserves this twisted, torturous place—not even a man-eating nine-tailed fox.
She sniffs. Once, twice. Her ears press down flat against her head. Her six eyes crack open one by one, blinking slowly as her tails sweep lazily behind her. She’s not fully alert, her movements sluggish. Yue stares up at me, blinking.
“Sonam?” she murmurs, rising onto four unsteady legs. “Where are…”
Yue looks around, her delirium quickly fading into something far more horrified. Her gaze snaps back to me, to the walls of the Jade Palace, to her claws now digging into the ground.
“No,” she wheezes. The look she gives me is one of utter betrayal. I see heartbreak in them, too. “Why did you wake me? You shouldn’t have woken me.”
I frown in confusion. “Of course I should have. The Maskmaker was—”
Yue scrapes her claws over her face as if to hide. Or perhaps peel it off. She whimpers, pathetic and helpless, mutteringnonsense. “Don’t look at me! I can’t stand it. You shouldn’t have—you shouldn’t have!”
Instinctively, I attempt to pry her claws away before she hurts herself. “Calm down. Now isn’t the time to lose your head.”
She doesn’t listen. She instead curls up tightly, using her long tails to sweep around and hide her face. I didn’t think it was possible for Yue to look so small. It isn’t often that I find myself at a loss, yet I don’t know what to do.
Souls are tested against their heart’s own paradise, Kelai had said.To wake and see the truth that all is not as it could be leaves the soul shattered beyond repair.
“What did he do to you?” I ask, barely above a whisper.
Yue is silent for a long time. For a moment, I wonder if what that rat said earlier about demons being unable to lie was indeed a farce. But then Yue slowly pulls her tails away, her chin resting upon the ground as tears bead down the sides of her face.
“He showed me a life that will never be mine,” she replies, her voice breaking into a soft sob. “A life I can never have.”
“What was it?” I ask before I can realize how selfish I’m being. What right do I have to the details of her most intimate dreams?
She hesitates, though the answer eventually escapes her lips. “One full of love,” she answers bitterly. I’ve never heard anyone sound more ashamed. Embarrassed, even, for wanting something so simple. So freely given.
Just not for her.
“The Maskmaker is taking his army to the surface,” I pivot, unsure what else to say. “We need to get to the gate before them. We can use the shortcut Kelai spoke of. If we’re quick, we might be able to beat them there.”
Yue says nothing.
“We must seal the gate behind us,” I continue, hoping forsomething—any reaction. “If his army is released upon the earth, it could be the end of life as we know it.”
Even as I say this, I don’t expect her to care. What can she do—what can any of us do—in the face of such great evil? Yue has no stake in this fight, only a vow to keep, but maybe that’s enough. I need allies wherever I can find them, and I’d rather not have Yue as an enemy.
She stands slowly on all fours, claws digging into the ground. There’s a blankness in her eyes, no spark of life.
I’m tempted to reach out. I’m used to patting Wen on the shoulder, giving Sooah’s elbow a pinch. Little gestures we’ve adopted over the years to ease each other’s worries. But I don’t know what to do when it comes to Yue. I know she’s unbelievably strong and fierce—but I can’t help but worry that right now, something as small as an act of kindness may break her.
