He glances down at me, and it is this moment that costs him.
A slice of metal in the air; Arrow’s already out of mypalm and flying toward the missile. I hear aplinkas my blade intercepts the other. I hold out my hand, waiting for Arrow to return—the talisman on it ensures that it always comes back—and that’s when the second knife comes.
Yù’chén shifts sharply, but there is little space to maneuver. He grunts as the blade cuts his side.
He slips.
I bite down a scream and focus on anchoring myself to the rock, but he catches himself, right next to me. The mist whirls from our movement, and blood sprays the mountain red.
Yù’chén’s blood.
I hear Arrow whistle through the air and hold out my palm. My fingers close around its familiar hilt as I turn to face our attacker.
The assailant leaps out of nowhere. I catch the flash of a dagger as he aims at Yù’chén; at the same time, I send Arrow back at him.
He lands on the cliff wall above us and parries my attack with a violent slash downward. There is aclinkas Arrow’s trajectory is broken and its momentum cut off.
It tumbles in the air and plummets. My stomach twists as it disappears into the mist below.
Yù’chén is holding on to the rockface by my side, scrambling to find purchase after his slip. Blood drips from his wound, and as the assailant aims for him again, I know he is not ready to defend himself.
I reach over Yù’chén. My foot finds a crack in the mountain. With my right hand, I whip out Striker and plunge it into a crack in the cliff face. With my left, I raise Fleet and parry.
I catch a glimpse of our assailant’s face—and recognize him as one of Yán’lù’s cronies.
I cry out as his blow smashes my arm into the mountain. He might have broken something in my hand, and I can barely hold on to Fleet. I think of Arrow plunging into the mist below.
I will not lose another blade.
Bile rises to my throat. He knows Yù’chén is the strong one—that if he just kills Yù’chén, both of us are done for.
This must be why, when he aims his dagger at Yù’chén again, I move to shield my ally’s body with my own.
White-hot pain explodes in my side. I cry out and try to twist away, but Yán’lù’s crony is still holding on tightly to his dagger, which is lodged in my midriff.
I kick him in the chest, hard. Through my tears, I see the assailant reaching for something—anything—to latch onto.
I kick again, and this time, the pain nearly takes me out as his dagger rips from my side and he falls.
The problem is, I fall with him.
The world tumbles around me, and my consciousness slips for a moment. When I come to, I’m dangling against the mountain. Above me: the sash tying me to Yù’chén. Below me: a thousand-foot plunge. Blood from my open wound seeps through my dress, droplets disappearing into the endless mist below.
In my haze, I hear Yù’chén say my name. “Àn’ying.Àn’ying, look at me.”
My eyes flutter, but I obey. He’s holding on to a jutting rock just above me, just out of reach. His muscles are stretched taut against his tunic. The sash digs into both our waists.
Just one cut,I think. It would be so easy for him to be rid of me. Just one cut with his sword.
“I can’t reach you.” He sounds strained. “I need you to haul yourself up. Just one pull.”
Just one cut.The pain tugs at me, and as I nearly go under again, I hear his voice piercing the fog in my mind.
“Àn’ying, I need you to pull yourself up.”
My arms comply. I grip the sash and pull. Once. Twice.
A strong hand wraps around my waist, and then we’re ascending, so fast it feels like flying—or perhaps I’m so close to unconsciousness, I can’t tell what’s real anymore. My cheek is pressed to a warm neck, and each breath brings me the familiar scent of that red cloak. Somehow, I know that I won’t fall.
