“I want to see the ocean.” The confession unravels from my lips. My throat rasps, and my words are nearly lost, but I think of the girl who sewed the handkerchief. Yes, I was once a girl who wished to see the realm—all of it. Long, rolling deserts like burning gold. Rivers that bleed from tears of dragons. The ocean, which one tome claimed was as vast as the sky itself and undulated like a living, breathing thing. There must have been beauty here, once. “I want to see the world.”
When I blink again, the shadows have lifted slightly, and the hellbeast is nowhere to be seen. Leaning over me is the red-cloaked practitioner. He’s no longer smiling. “I told you to stay,” he says, his hands on my elbows as he pulls me to my feet.
I twist away but stumble as pain shoots up my left ankle. Those hands find me and hold me steady.
“And I was supposed to follow your instructions and do nothing while a legendary demonic beast figures out how it wants to eat me.” I spit out this reply with the last of my dignity.
I feel as though I have been undressed, my barest and most vulnerable parts exposed to him. Weak, slow, and now wounded. I’d wanted—needed—him as an ally, but he will never agree at this point. Who would take a deadweight in a situation where physical prowess is necessary?
He presses a finger to his lips and, in a fluid motion, he kneels. His hand slides to my left ankle. I jump at the shock of his palm against my bare skin. Spirit energy stirs, and as warmth spreads through my injury, the pain dulls.
He is healing my ankle.
“Where is it?” I hate how my voice shakes. “Where’s the hellbeast?”
“Gone.” Red gazes up at me, eyes clear and calm. Kneeling at my feet, his hand warm against my skin, there is a gentleness to his touch that twists my stomach.
“What did you do?” I whisper.
“Qióng’qí feeds on fear. I helped you take the fear away.”
Logically, it makes sense—and I curse myself for not having thought of that earlier. But I’m thinking of the momentbeforethat. Before he arrived, when the beast had caught sight of something…and backed away.
A distant scream curdles the air. A familiar, snarling bark follows, cutting it off abruptly.
I dig my nails into my palms. This is wrong. Yán’lù and his cronies arepractitioners.We are all mortal, meant to be fighting together against a common enemy.
The Temple of Dawn has made that impossible with its twisted tournament.
Like it or not, I am already in the game.
“Ally with me,” I say. Like this, him kneeling before me, we are close, close enough for me to feel the heat of hisbreath as he lifts his face to meet my gaze. His hand is still at my ankle, where pulses of his spirit energy flow into me like waves…and the pain of my injury has faded.
“Ally with you,” he repeats, and in a fluid move, he stands. He doesn’t break our gaze as an indolent smile curves his lips. “And why would I do that? What can you offerme,little scorpion?”
I do not miss the way his eyes flick to my lips, tracing up the edge of my jaw and cheeks slowly, deliberately, almost like a physical caress. I hold very still. The village elders who grew up at a time when customs were still upheld would shudder at his insinuation. But those customs—along with most societal norms—have long eroded. I have heard stories of women who traded their bodies in exchange for protective talismans. Fathers who gave their blood for a scrap of food to feed their children.
I am not above any of that. I will do what is practical.
My crescent blade Heart is still in my hand. I lift the knife to the practitioner’s cheek and touch it, just lightly enough so it does not cut. “I have saved your life twice. You stated you do not like owing debts.”
“Debts that are now repaid.” He watches me over the edge of my blade, dark eyes never leaving my face.
“The road ahead is long. Better to have someone watch your back while you sleep.”
“Or a knife in my heart before the morning to eliminate your strongest competition.”
I’m not above that, either. Eventually, that will come to pass, because if it comes down to a tournament, I will eliminate anyone and anything in the way of my getting that pill for my mother.
“Not before we get to safety,” I say. “Until then, you have my undying loyalty.” His lips quirk at the wordundying.“I’m quick and I’m smart.”I have a jade pendant that watches over me.“I’m good with my blades. And…” I swallow and take a small step forward. We are now chest to chest, knee to knee, so that I feel the rise and fall of his body with each breath and the brush of his cloak against my dress. “I could be good at other things, too.”
He gives me a dull look I cannot read, then matches me with a step backward, creating distance between us again. “Safetyis a long way off, little scorpion,” he says. “That half-wit Yán’lù spoke truth. The first test of the tournament starts beyond these mountains. The area between Gods’ Fingers and the Kingdom of Sky is filled with monsters the Kingdom of Night has sent in an attempt to wear down the immortals’ wards.”
The Kingdom of Night has wanted to overtake the Kingdom of Sky’s power, favor, and authority under the Heavenly Order for years. It’s impossible, though, for demons to slip through the immortals’ wards, which are built to accept only those who bleed red. A first, that our fleshly mortal bodies should serve to our advantage.
I cross my arms. “In that case, perhaps you should pray that I’m here to help.”
“I don’t pray.”
