“To wield any tool of qì, you must understand the intent behind it. Just as a Seal cannot be conjured without a strong will and a foundational understanding of its usage, the Godslayer, too, requires understanding of the truth of its purpose.”
Lan knew the stories of monks and practitioners who spent entire lifetimes cultivating their power to unlock a single magical artifact or summon a single Seal. They dedicated their lives to reading philosophical scriptures of practitioning, to understanding the ways of this world.
A tool of qì,she thought. She had assumed the Godslayer tobe a sword, a dagger, or any form of a weapon, but the immortal’s phrasing was vague.
“What is the Godslayer, and where can I find the truth to it?” she asked, but her words were lost to the gust of qì that surged through this realm. The immortal’s outline shimmered, and she began to dissipate like a cloud in sunlight.
“The truth. Two sides to the coin. The yin and yáng of this world. The duality of reality. The truth, child, to this tale of gods and demons, of demons and gods.”
“Wait,” Lan said, but then the temple was empty except for the fluttering silk banners and the pervading mist. The temple was being swept away, alabaster walls and lapis-wreathed pillars dripped like waterfalls, gathering into a roaring river of light.
Of qì.
Lan turned to run, but the front of the temple was gone. Night poured in, the moon shining eerily bright overhead. The river of light was too strong, wrapping around her and pulling her back. As the rest of the temple came tumbling down around her, the bell chimed to a crescendo; the currents of qì brightened to a blinding white.
Then it all vanished.
Lan lay atop the Öshangma Light Mountain. It was nearly pitch-black, the moon hidden behind clouds. A wind had picked up, whistling across the barren, snow-covered landscape. And the night was filled with the stench of metallic qì.
Lan tried to move, but something cold dug against her throat, her wrists, her ankles.
Metal.
She was anchored to the mountain, the metal jutting from the rocks in unnatural ribbons, digging into her skin.
A pale face appeared over her, a slice of a white smile she recognized all too well.
Erascius.
She tried to scream, but a metal strap pressed against her mouth.
“Hello, little singer,” the Royal Magician crooned in the Elantian tongue. He knelt on the ground, leaning over her with that terrible grin etched into her nightmares. “Pity I can’t hear your lovely music right now.” He reached out and trailed a cold finger up the skin of her throat.
Terror welled in her chest, so overwhelming that her vision darkened and for a moment all she could see was his hand with her mother’s red, beating heart clutched in it.
“I can let you go,” Erascius said. “I ask only one thing.” His gaze grew flat, his voice sharp and businesslike. “I want the star maps to the two unbound Demon Gods. Let us begin with that of the Azure Tiger.”
Deep inside her, the power that lay coiled by her heart stirred. An icy eye opened, pupils ringed white like frost, as the Silver Dragon sensed her fear and the danger nearby. Scales of snow shimmered in her mind as it began to rise.
No,Lan thought.I do not give you permission.The Demon God was bound by its bargain to protect her life, and only that. She would not chance unleashing its power when there was an entire city at risk below these mountains.
Lan forced her breathing to steady. The panic cleared, and her mind began to work again.
When Erascius captured her and Zen at the Elantian Central Outpost, he had forced Lan to give him the star maps, intending to track down the Four Demon Gods and bind them to himself. Later on, when the Elantian army ambushed Skies’ End, the masters of the school made the decision to free the Azure Tiger, which they’d kept trapped at the heart of the mountain.
Had the Phoenix moved since the last time she hadconjured the maps, or had Erascius simply failed to track it down? Whatever the case, he was now risking his life to find Lan and ascertain the whereabouts of both the Crimson Phoenix and the Azure Tiger.
But…where was his army? Lan reached out into the currents of qì around them, searching for traces of metal.
“I had my army remove their armor, if that’s what you were searching for,” Erascius said. He watched her with an almost clinical assessment. “To my understanding, you Hin practitioners are able to sense the different types of energies the elements in our world exude.Qì,no?” His fingers came to rest on the metal strap gagging her. With a tap, it began to shift against her skin, slithering up Erascius’s wrist until it disappeared into one of the metal cuffs he wore.
“Why are you here?” Lan demanded. Her Elantian was clumsy, her tongue curling awkwardly over the syllables after not having to speak them for so long. “You know I could kill you. I have the Silver Dragon.”
“Then use it.”
She stilled.
Erascius smiled. “No? I was inclined to believe as much. Just like that boy. You Hin have access to suchpower,and yet you choose to turn away from it.” He held his wrist up. The cuffs gleamed in the dim moonlight. The Royal Magician pointed to one of a brown-red color. Lan noticed it had an engraving on it, the Elantian letters running left to right, horizontally—something she still couldn’t get used to after twelve cycles of conquest.
