Watch over me, E’niáng.
The palace faced south, with all its noisy fountains and the grand walkway that extended into the city, inviting people to gather like sheep to celebrate the bloodsucking monarchs within its walls. So Dilaya and the others approached from the north. The lights here were dimmer, it was quieter, and there wouldn’t be the risk of running across one of those demonic practitioners set loose by Xan Temurezen.
She tried not to dwell on the fact that they fought on the same side—after all, they shared a greater common enemy at this moment. Worse was that Sòng Lián had not told her about this alliance with Xan Temurezen. But as much as Dilaya hated to admit any of these factors, everything had worked out to their advantage.
The square was now a graveyard of Elantian soldiers, thanks to the Mansorian demonic practitioners; even better, they had taken down most of the Elantian forces within the city, including a large number of Royal Magicians. Dilaya also didn’t think it was just luck that the demonic practitioners hadn’t come after her or any of her forces.
Too much thinking,she scolded herself angrily, and cleared her mind to focus on the mission at hand.
She landed on the parapets of the palace. As much as she had despised the building and all that it stood for before, the sight of the Elantian symbol over it now turned her stomach.
No matter. It would soon be gone.
She glanced up at the skies. It seemed Lan had decided to take the fight elsewhere. Over the mountains rimming the city in the north, unearthly lights flickered against the snow clouds: red, blue, silver, and black. Currents of demonic energies rolled through the city, so strong that she could barely sense anything else.
“Stay safe, little fox spirit,” Dilaya muttered to the wind.
Someone bumped into her elbow. Dilaya’s hand shot out to grab Chó Tài before he plunged off the walls.
“Try to be competent, will you?” she hissed. Unfortunately, Chó Tài was the only one who knew the layout of the palace, which was why she’d been paired with him. Her task was to protect him until they were inside, and then they would join with the rest of their army and take the palace.
He glared back at her but swallowed whatever retort he’dbeen about to give when someone appeared by his side. A flutter of white, a flash of fans, and Elanruya was there, landing with the ease and grace of a cat.
Dilaya bit back any further immature bickering and straightened slightly. On the rooftops of other temples and the sections of the parapets closest, she caught flashes of shadows and the smallest sparks of flames.
Their army was in position.
Dilaya peered down at the palace courtyard. It was eerily deserted, the main doors at the back locked. She could feel the energies of Elantian metalwork spells radiating into the air with a slightly bitter smell. So thereweresome of them still alive, and they had chosen to barricade themselves within the palace walls. They must have bolstered the defenses and doors.
Cowards.
“I’m going to blow down those doors,” Dilaya muttered to Elanruya and Chó Tài. “But I need a cleaner aim. You two stay here until it’s safe. Elanruya, make sure Chó Tài doesn’t fall off the parapets.”
His protests fell to the wind as, with a jet of qì through her heels and a well-placed kick, Dilaya took off.
She landed on the lowest section of the curved terracotta roof, which offered a straight view to the doors. She had remembered them as red with great golden knockers carved in the likeness of the Four Demon Gods. Now the doors were blue and the knockers had changed to silver lions.
Dilaya drew a Destructive Seal against the door and, with a burst of her qì, activated it.
Wood splintered; the doors creaked but didn’t budge.
Irritated, she lifted her hand to draw another Seal when two figures materialized by her side.
The Nameless Master of Assassins had arrived so quietlythat Dilaya hadn’t sensed his qì, even when he used the Light Arts. He held up a hand, gesturing at her to stop; she obeyed.
“Your way is one of steel, Yeshin Noro Dilaya,” he said, his voice like wind between pines, and she sensed him beginning to channel qì toward the door: a thin, steady stream, softer than her explosive Seal, curling into the cracks between the wood and the metal. “Sometimes, it is necessary to apply the way of shadows I teach in my art.”
If a peer had told her this, Dilaya might have retorted:That’s cow dung, and I’ll do it my way if I like.But this was one of her masters, and she had the teachings and Code of Conduct of the school engraved deep within her. She bowed her head. “Yes, shi’fù.”
He cast her an unreadable glance, as though he might have heard her thoughts. Then his pinky twitched—and, impossibly, the doors clicked. They began to swing open.
“Duck,” he said.
“What—?” Dilaya began, but he’d disappeared from her side. She heard the whistle of an arrow; reflexively, she raised Falcon’s Claw and swung at it. The force of the block knocked the arrow off course and sent Falcon’s Claw spinning from her hands. The arrow stuck into the roof, and Dilaya saw that it was no normal arrow but one made completely of metal, head, shaft, and fletching. A dozen steps back, Falcon’s Claw clanged to the ground below.
Dilaya began to draw her other dao, Wolf’s Fang, but a second arrow was already on its way. She moved—too slowly—but a pale silhouette appeared before her. Elanruya spun, catching the second arrow in the metal ribs of one of her fans.
Dilaya leapt down from the roof and picked up Falcon’s Claw. “I owe you one,” she called.
