“He isn’t responsible for the murders,” I say desperately. “He had an alibi for the first murder—you told me yourself. And he has protected me from other mó. You saw him fighting Yán’lù.”
Hào’yáng looks away, toward the open window. “Àn’ying,even if I wished, I could not save him. The Eight Immortals are aware, and the High Court will be here in the morning. His interrogation begins at sunrise. Even if he is found innocent of any affiliation with the Kingdom of Night…” He exhales. “There is no precedent to a half-mó. The High Court made the Kingdom of Night their enemy. I don’t know that they have it in them to let even a half-mó live.”
I suddenly feel sick to my stomach. I remember Yù’chén’s ask of me:I want you to stop looking at me as if you’re afraid, or suspicious, or disgusted. As if you’re thinking of what I am instead of who I am.
Now he is going to die precisely because of what he is—and because he helped me.
It’s all my fault.
“Hào’yáng. I have to help him.” My voice is low. “Please, tell me what I can do. I’ll…I’ll speak to the Eight Immortals, surely there must be a way—”
“The Eight are powerless against the High Court,” he replies. When he lifts his gaze to me, the sorrow on his features is clear. “And if you testify for him, you would jeopardize not only your standing in your trials but also yourlife,Àn’ying. The brewing war against the Kingdom of Night is a long-feared subject among the immortals in this realm. Now that they know two demons have gotten past our wards—even if he is a halfling, there will be no mercy. The High Court is ruthless; they will make an example of him…and any associates they find out about.”
It is all I can do not to sink to the ground with the enormity of what I have done—the consequences of my failures. I have sentenced a man to death for helping me break the rules to save my sister’s life, and for saving my life. But if I do anythingagainst the wishes of the High Court, I could jeopardize the standings of the Eight Immortals; of Shi’ya and Hào’yáng and the entire resistance they have worked toward. And I could risk my own life if I try to help Yù’chén.
If I am dead, it is as good as sentencing Ma and Méi’zi to death, too.
“Àn’ying.” Hào’yáng doesn’t move his eyes from me. His brows are creased, and there is something akin to sorrow in the way he watches me. “Don’t throw away your life and your family for him.”
“I owe him so much, Hào’yáng,” I whisper.
He is silent for a few moments. Beneath the calmness of his expression, I can feel him thinking, deliberating. Then he says, “There is nothing I can do to save him. But if you wish to see him one more time, I can help.”
My head snaps up. “I wish to see him,” I say. “Please.”
Hào’yáng gives a single, slow nod. “He is in the last chamber of the healing wing. At nightfall, I will arrange for the guards to momentarily retreat and for the wards to temporarily allow entry to his confinement chamber. Then, when the moon is highest in the sky, I will lower the wards, allowing you—and only you—to leave the chamber. You must look for the sign; you will have only a moment to slip out.”
He turns to leave; for some reason, at the sight of him, my chest knots.
“Hào’yáng,” I say quietly. “Thank you.”
He pauses at the door to glance back at me in the light of dusk. I can’t make out his expression.
Without speaking, he bows his head. Then he is gone.
26
The night is starlit when I leave my healing chamber. In the distance, I can hear the sounds of revelry. Hào’yáng told me there would be a banquet to honor the murdered candidates and celebrate that the culprits have been caught. Music and laughter drift from the direction of the Banquet Hall, which is lit in the faint glow of lanterns.
The Temple of Tranquil Longevity is silent and dark, its long, open-air hallways connecting the individual empty chambers. Chrysanthemums sway in my wake, their fragrance filling the air with hope of the health and longevity they symbolize. A wind has picked up, masking my footsteps as I approach the last chamber of the temple.
I’ve left my jade pendant back in my chamber. This is the first time I’ve taken it off since my father gifted it to me. Its meaning has changed now that Hào’yáng holds the other half. Its weight against my heart has begun to feel more significant, and it took me a while to realize that what I felt earlier, when I begged Hào’yáng to let me see Yù’chén, was guilt.I don’t know what to make of it, other than that my path in life was always meant to lead to Hào’yáng just as a river flows to the sea—yet tonight, I went against his warnings.
But seeing Yù’chén again, perhaps for the last time, is a moment I wish to keep to myself. A moment I wish to experience alone for the first time, without the presence of my guardian in the jade.
My neck feels bare and too light without it, but I remind myself it is only until the moon rises to its highest point in the sky. Just a few hours.
Hào’yáng is true to his promise. There are no guards in sight as I draw up to the chamber where Yù’chén is being kept. When I press a hand to the door, testing for wards that may ensnare me, nothing happens.
I suck in a breath, slide it open, and slip in.
There are no lanterns in this chamber. Moonlight spills through a fretwork window, granting some degree of light. I feel the wards pulsing against the walls and closing over the doorway as soon as I enter. There will be no escaping from within.
Standing beyond a set of sheer drapes, gazing out the window at the moon, is Yù’chén. I catch the crimson of his cloak first, shimmering like blood. Yù’chén’s fingers absentmindedly caress the bottom-left corner.
He stirs now, as though from a trance. His eyes find mine across the room; shock ripples across his face. “Àn’ying?” He speaks my name in disbelief.
I don’t know what to say or do. I don’t even know why I’m here. I have no plan to save him, and I can’t—I can’t risk anyone finding out that Hào’yáng helped me get in here againstthe rules. I can’t tell the Eight or the High Court of my involvement with Yù’chén and jeopardize my standing in the trials and my mother’s only chance to have her soul back.
