“Take… this,” I murmur. “You have to do it. I can’t—”
“You can,” she insists. “I can’t harm him, remember?” She gently grasps the front of my robes between her teeth and pulls me into an upright position. “I need you, Sonam. We can do this together.”
With a groan, I stand, leaning heavily against her. I think of her pushing beyond her limits in the Court of Despair. She’s right. I can still fight. We survived Hell together, which means we can survive this, too.
I climb onto Yue’s back and hold on tight as she rushes in leaps and bounds. She jumps from one shaky rooftop to another, the rain and ash mixing to form a thick mud. Sooah, Wen, and the Maskmaker are near the docks at the furthest edge of the city. They’re keeping him at bay, but who knows for how much longer?
The blue dragon dives toward him, jaws open wide to devour him whole, but the Maskmaker burns Sooah’s mask off without hesitation. She transforms midair, plummeting into the frigid seawater. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see her breach the surface and start swimming toward the nearest moored boat. Wen keeps fighting, growling and snarling as he brings his arms down to swipe at the Maskmaker like a fly.
“He’s distracted,” I shout over the clamor. “We need to get up high!”
I’m not sure Yue hears me, but then she darts toward Wen. She runs with such speed that her claws barely have time to scrape the ground.
“Hang on!” she shouts at me as we climb up the Sleeping City’s back.
She uses Wen as a ramp of sorts, putting us at a height advantage.Using the hard ledges for purchase, she climbs her way up until we’ve reached the top of the Sleeping City’s head. From this distance, the Maskmaker looks like nothing more than an ant. She jumps down without fear, much to my—and the Maskmaker’s—stunned amazement.
This is my only shot.
Before he has a chance to react, I fling the needle from between my fingers—
And hit him in the throat with it.
Our landing is the furthest thing from graceful. Yue goes tumbling into the water. I land on the hard surface of the docks, rolling three or four times until my momentum finally comes to a stop. I can’t feel my legs anymore. I wonder if I’ve broken my back.
I can barely see Wen taking off his mask, shrinking down to his lanky human size. I spot Sooah, too, hurrying over to rejoin the fight.
The Maskmaker lies on his back only a few arms away. Black Zhenniao poison crawls through his veins, a reaching spiderweb spreading out beneath the surface of his skin. He chokes on his swollen tongue, his bloodshot eyes bulging with terror. He sputters, grasping at his throat as it closes and the rest of his body seizes, twitching like a spider in its final moments. When he dies with his eyes open, it should feel like a triumph.
But my only thoughts belong to Yue.
Panic grips me as I look around for her. Where is she? Is she hurt?
“Yue,” I croak. “Where—”
Something cold and wet brushes my arm. Fur, soaked in seawater. “I’m here,” a voice whispers in my ear.
I give in to the weight of my eyelids and exhale heavily. If this is how I die, so be it—as long as my fox is safe.
For my beloved monster of monsters, I would kill the stars.
48Sonam
She’s making people nervous,”comes a voice. “She won’t let anyone go near him. Damn near bit the head off of one of the palace doctors when he came to change the captain’s bandages.”
“Yue ain’t going to harm no one.” This voice I recognize. Wen speaks with an edge in his tone. “Ain’t that right, Fox?”
“He’s never going to get better if those quacks continue to poke and prod at him,” Yue hisses. “Leave him to sleep or I’ll— What? Iambehaving, Sooah.”
“If it means no harm, why does it keep looking at me like that?”
“Ignore her,” Wen says. “She has a staring problem.”
I blink myself awake slowly, listening more to the rhythm of their conversation than to the meaning of their words. I feel… fine. Sore and stiff, but not in as much pain as I thought I would be. The right half of my vision is obstructed by several thick bandages, and I can feel a heavy layer wrapped around my chest. My mouth is terribly dry, and my head pounds with a fury, but I tell myself that these are good things.
Discomfort means I’m alive.
I’m not sure where I am, or even what day it is. The heavysmell of smoke still lingers in the air, though it’s not as noticeable as before. The low mumble of chatter fills my ears. It seems to be everywhere, distant conversations that I’m barely privy to. With a groan, I attempt to sit up.
