“You were caught off guard twice. Thrice, if you count my attack. If I hadn’t saved you—”
“I meant to ask. Whydidyou attack me?” He’s grinning now, leaning closer and gazing up at me from under those long, dark lashes.
“I—” I’m caught off-guard as his question brings to mymind the moment in that clearing. The wind, catching in his hair and cloak, the leaves, framing him like a painting. “You were standing all alone in the midst of a dozen dead practitioners. What was I supposed to think?”
He blinks slowly, and I find my heart quickening and my face beginning to heat beneath his gaze. “It wasn’t because you found me handsome enough to be a mó?”
I lash out, and Fleet finds his throat before either of us can draw another breath. My face is burning, but I glare up at him. “You might’ve died twice had I not been there,” I say levelly. “I have secrets that will see me through alive, that warn me of danger before it manifests. How do you think I caught wind of Qióng’qí before it appeared?” I’m bluffing, but he doesn’t have to know that. “I’m not as strong or as well trained as you, but I have much to offer. Ally with me.”
“Hmm,” he says, and I feel the hum of his voice reverberate down my crescent blade. “If we’re going to be allies, you’ll have to work at pointing those stingers somewhere else, little scorpion.”
“Stop calling me—”
He moves so fast, I don’t even catch it. All I know is that there was a blur of red, pressure on my hand, and then Fleet and Heart are both in his hands. My breath catches in my throat. He is even more dangerous than I imagined.
“Interesting.” He’s studying the talismans engraved in the hilts. “Well, then, what will it take to begin this alliance?”
I understand the message he is sending me, accepting my offer with my crescent blades inhispalms.
“Your name,” I reply.
He flips his palms and extends both blades toward me,hilt-first. His attention is back on me, and I cannot say I dislike it. “Yù’chén.”
Yù’chén—a homonym that sounds likemeet the dawn.It’s a lovely name. No surname, but I won’t ask.
I take Fleet and Heart back. I’m careful not to touch his fingers. “Àn’ying.” No surname, and I won’t offer.
His lips quirk. “A lovely name.”
Embers of anger spark inside me. “Do not,” I say in a low voice, “mock my name.”
He blinks. “I wasn’t. I wouldn’t.” He arranges his features into a more cordial smile, his gaze softening in a semblance of warmth. “I find it lovely. The songs and poems all laud the beauty of nature in daylight, beneath the warmth of the sun. Rare are those who appreciate the beauty in darkness.”
I frown, uncertain how to react to his words. But I remember how quickly his face changed, and I tell myself not to forget. Masks, too, can be weapons.
Yù’chén must sense my unease, for he gives me a smile radiant enough to melt hearts. With a flourish, he proffers something to me on his palm. It’s a flower as red as his cloak, its petals round and tapering to razor-sharp edges. I recognize it: a scorpion lily, known for slicing the skin of those who try to pick it. It is frequently depicted in paintings of the realm of death beyond the Nine Fountains and symbolizes predestined tragedy.
“A beautiful flower for a beautiful maiden.” Yù’chén’s smile is startlingly sincere, but I catch hints of mirth at the edges of his eyes.
I make a sound between my teeth and shove his arm away from me. “A flower foretelling a tragic fate? You can keep it.”
He waves his hand and the scorpion lily vanishes like a trick of the light.
In the forest of cathayas extending into the Way of Ghosts, another drawn-out wail pierces the darkness, followed by that nightmare of a growl.
Yù’chén nods in the direction of the trees. “You thought Qióng’qí was bad? That was only the warm-up.”
As though on cue, a seam opens in the sky, and there is a flash of white light. Two sparks of fire drift down toward us, the flames slowly dying out to form curling, golden pieces of parchment.
I stretch out my palm, and the parchment comes to rest on it, delicate as the wings of a butterfly. By my side, Yù’chén has an identical parchment.
I hold mine up and read the characters written in swirly golden ink:
The Temple of Dawn cordially invites you to participate in
the Immortality Trials.
5
