The glade has fallen deadly silent. “I’m in a very good mood, my son,” Sansiran says with lethal quiet. “I warn you not to ruin that. You forget, you are still bound to my will by our covenant. You will bleed into the mortal river tonight to complete your enthronement; the gateway between our realms will be made permanent. You will be wed, and our claim to the immortal realm, too, will be legitimized through her.”
Yù’chén stands utterly still.
Until Sansiran’s fury hits.
I sense the magic rushing toward us. Yù’chén turns, placing himself between his mother and me. Magic erupts from him, weaving a net of scorpion lilies over us. A shield of protection.
Every muscle in his body draws taut as he fights her magic with his own. Shadows bear down upon his wreaths of scorpion lilies; red and black scales again bloom on his skin, and his nails sharpen to claws.
Steps from us, the stone pái’fang and the gateway within it ripple—as though his waning strength impacts it, too.
As I lie in his arms, my body still paralyzed and struggling to revive from drowning, I can only count the seconds before it stops.
Ten heartbeats.
Sansiran relents.
Yù’chén exhales shakily; his shield of scorpion lilies immediately vanishes. Sweat trickles down his jaw, mingling with the blood that drips from a corner of his mouth. He sways but doesn’t let go of me.
He smirks as he twists his head to survey his mother. “You give yourself too much credit,” he says raggedly. “You forget whose lifeblood it is that binds the mortal realm to this one.”
Whose lifeblood binds the mortal realm to this one.My focus narrows to those words.
“How could I forget?” Sansiran purrs. “Every day, it haunts me that my own son’s weakness has cost us permanent hold over the Kingdom of Rivers. Every day, I’m reminded that he has failed yet again to obtain the throne, that the mortal realm’s lands reject him, reject his gateway, and thereby reject our kind from expanding farther in. There never comes a day that Iforget.” Her voice cracks like a whip as she slashes her hand down. And because I’m leaning against Yù’chén’s chest, I catch the exact moment a red oleander flower blooms there—and spikes through his heart.
Blood pours out of him, thick and red, and into the cuplike petals of the flower. When it’s full to the brim, it detaches from Yù’chén’s chest and drifts into the air.
Feeling is returning to my limbs: the cold against my soaked dress, the trembling of Yù’chén’s fingers as he fights to hold on to enough strength to hold me. I wriggle a toe, then test a finger, shift a hand.
Yù’chén’s knees hit the floor. His shoulders cushion me as he collapses, bringing us both to the ground. His eyes, wide and unfocused, redden; veins across his face and hands darken as his magic stirs to heal him.
I act then.
I twist from his grasp, and Fleet and Poison are in my hands with a flick of my wrists. I know I have only seconds before my window of opportunity closes. Within the pái’fang, just steps away from me, the gateway to the mortal realm flickers; beyondthe halls of its Imperial Palace are the open skies and, even farther, the vast sea.
The sea that carries Hào’yáng in its depths, life slowly ebbing away from him with every second I delay.
Yù’chén’s gaze follows mine, to the gateway and the halls of the Kingdom of Rivers’ Imperial Palace. Red drips down the corners of his mouth as he reaches for me, his fingers clasping over my wrist. “Àn’ying?” Confusion creases his brows as he scans my face.
He will find out, if he offers his blood to the Long River later, that Hào’yáng is still alive; that the land will reject him. And he will come to understand the choice I am making in this moment: to take a last chance to restore my realm to its sunlit days, free of the grasp of the Kingdom of Night.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“Àn’ying.” His voice, his eyes, every part of him breaks when he reads my intentions. Still, he holds on to me. “Stay.”
My own heart is tearing. I knew this to be one of the consequences of opening myself to him again, of letting him into the most intimate parts of my mind—this exquisite kind of pain.
Come with me, I want to say—except I could never allow that. He is the son of my realm’s greatest enemy, bound to her by an unbreakable covenant…and his blood is the reason they were able to cross the wards into my kingdom in the first place.
Now that I know Hào’yáng, the mortal heir to the Kingdom of Rivers, lives, there is only one way this can end.
“I’m so sorry,” I repeat, and then I wrench my hand from his and turn away.
I summon my spirit energies to activate the talisman on Fleet’s hilt. Instead of a spark, a golden glow lights my chest and dances from my fingers into the blade.
Air becomes fluid around me. Time slows as I leap forward, dodging Niefuzan’s magic and Xisenyin’s shield of ice. Something has changed since I emerged from the crystal spring. Spirit energiessurgethrough my veins, and I feel invincible—like I can fly.
When I reach the gateway, I hesitate. Glance back.
