“Tonight,” I hiss to Yù’chén, “meet me at the Celestial Gardens. I want to see with my own eyes that you closed the gate.”
His gaze darkens. “Why don’t we survive this trial first, andthenyou can go back to accusing me of the monstrous things you think I do.”
I turn and shove through the crowd, already palming my crescent blades. Most candidates step aside to let me pass. Except for one person.
Yán’lù’s massive arms are at his hips, one hand curled over the hilt of his broadsword. He’s watching me with wide eyes and a crazed smirk. On his wrist is his golden bracelet, which has not yet morphed into the elusive butterfly.
His says 6.There are thirty-eight candidates between us.
I suppress a shudder. I need to get as far away as possible before it’s his turn to go.
I dart around him and make for the open gates, finally in sight. My butterfly has already gone out, but I think I spot its golden glow in the night.
Fleet and Poison are in my palms as I reach the marble stairs swirling with clouds. I hurry down them. In front of me, I see the silhouettes of Forty-Three and Forty-Two—and farther ahead, three tiny golden sparks drifting toward the Immortals’ Steps. Beyond, somewhere far away in the darkness, is home and Méi’zi and Ma.
I tighten my grip on my blades and touch my collarbone, where my jade pendant rests. A mist has risen from the sea. Brine laces the air, and the crash of waves sounds from far below, a realm away from the Kingdom of Sky and its wards. The wind whips storm clouds across the sky, casting shifting shadows.
I hear footsteps behind me, coming too close and too fast. A glint of metal in the corner of my eyes.
I dodge, swapping Poison for Shadow, as the next candidate’s longsword slices down where my head was just a heartbeat ago. She pauses, blinking in confusion as she looks around for me. To her, I have simply vanished in plain sight—but if she were slightly more observant, she’d see a shift in the air, a shadow darker than the rest of the night moving behind her.
She scowls and barrels down the remainder of the stairs toward Forty-Three and Forty-Two. They’re not as quick as I am, nor do they have bespelled blades. Their screams are cut short abruptly in the night.
I ignore the way my stomach twists and speed up. I’m careful to duck around where Forty-One is hauling the other two candidates’ bodies over the stairs, into the abyss between realms and the yawning black sea below.
When I reach the bottom of the stairway, though, instead of the Immortals’ Steps, a marble bridge extends into the night, vanishing ominously into thick clouds. I sense the hum of spirit energies as I near the Kingdom of Sky wards. The immortals must have altered them, for tonight, they allow me to pass without so much as a brush of air against my skin.
And just like that, I’ve left the Kingdom of Sky. I pause and glance back at the wards, shimmering iridescent and translucent in the night, and I wonder if Yù’chén was telling the truth: that it is much easier to leave than it is to get in.
I glance toward where the clouds swallow the rest of this realm and the next, in the direction I know the Kingdom of Rivers begins. And suddenly, I’m hit with a pang of homesickness so acute that I can’t breathe. I don’t want to be here, competing in a tournament where I’m surviving by the skinof my teeth. I want to be home in my ramshackle little cottage, laughing with Méi’zi as we dice parsnips for soup, sitting by Ma’s knees and listening to her stories, her needle catching the lanternlight as she sews.
But that world no longer exists—hasn’t existed in nine years. And this, this is the only chance for me to get it back.
I blink away the stinging in my eyes and take the first step onto the marble bridge. The stone is cool and solid beneath my feet, slightly damp from the clouds all around. Soon, I’m engulfed in a great fog, unable to see anything but a few paces in front of me, unable to hear anything but the sound of my own footfalls and breaths.
Behind me, someone screams. It echoes briefly before being swallowed—as if the silence around me is alive. Cold sweat beads on my skin.
As suddenly as it arose, the fog thins, revealing a dark shape in the night. I make out the flattened tops of trees—parasol trees, lining the rocky steps of an island that has appeared out of nowhere, hanging above the vicious sea.
A tall rock greets me as I step off the marble bridge onto the soft grass of the island in the sky. A puff of wind clears the mist briefly enough for me to read the characters inscribed on the surface of the stone, weather-beaten and scratched as though it has survived the turn of thousands of years:Péng’lái Island.
The stories surrounding this mystical island are just as Jing’xiù said. It drifts across the kingdoms, appearing once a year between the realms…and is supposedly haunted by mythological beasts and remnants of old magic that the Kingdom of Sky has purged.
The silence grows stifling as I step beneath the canopyof trees. The moon is hidden behind rain clouds, and a light drizzle has started, rendering it difficult to make out anything but ghostly shapes and silhouettes. I hold my crescent blades tightly as I move deeper into the forest, intent on getting as far away from the other candidates as I can. I have no idea how big this island is, but within the next hour, it’ll be filled with forty other bloodthirsty candidates, all seeking their tickets to the Third Trial.
I think of the look Yán’lù gave me in the Hall of Radiant Sun. Now that we’re off temple grounds, the Precepts no longer apply. Which means I need to find my golden bracelet…before he finds me.
A sudden howl rises into the night from somewhere nearby, resembling neither man nor beast and sending gooseflesh up my arms. I need to keep moving. The problem is, I’ve lost track of my golden butterfly in this damned rain.
I keep Shadow and swap Fleet for Heart. The talisman activates with a brief injection of my spirit energy; all I need is to project my greatest desires into the spirit energy flowing from me to the blade to let it lead me.
I close my eyes and focus on the image I have held inside me throughout all these years—the flame of hope that has kept me going when all else failed. Ma and Méi’zi, sitting beneath the old plum blossom tree outside our house, laughing as they water spring onions. The late afternoon sun haloes them, as in a dream, in a haze of gold. It is an outdated memory, one that is over nine years old.
If I can just find my golden bracelet…if I can just survive this island…if I can just win one of the eight spots in these trials…then perhaps I can bring back that hazy, golden afternoon.
Heart shifts in my hand, and I smile—just as another voice surfaces in my memory.
What else?That deep, melodic murmur.Something thatyouwant, for you.
