“I wanted you to hear your father’s words. The words he gave me that helped me live—I wanted you to have them as well.”
I hold his hands tightly, and I know from the way he grips mine that he does not want to let go.
Neither do I.
I step back and tap my wrist three times.
Hào’yáng’s brows rise when the small fox tail appears like a furry white bracelet. It stirs lazily, as though emerging from a long sleep—and then gives a little wriggle in his direction, like a wave.
“Lì’líng?” Hào’yáng greets it curiously.
I give the tail a soothing stroke and then gently unwind it from my wrist. Then I press it into Hào’yáng’s palm.
“Come find us soon,” I whisper to it. It brushes my nose in a reassuring way, and I imagine Lì’líng’s laughing amber eyes.
I really hope I see her again.
I place my palm against Hào’yáng’s cheek. He wraps his arms around me and pulls me to him with a sudden, desperate ferocity. When we step apart, his face is open, emotions racing across it like a tempest.
I raise my hands, and the iridescent cloud of my spiritenergies forms. It twines around my body, then pools at my feet.
I step on.
“Àn’ying.” Hào’yáng catches my hand. We’re both at a loss for words, for how can one hope to capture a lifetime of words in a single sentence? “I’ll be there soon,” he says, and I nod and let go.
The clifftop falls away beneath me as I rise into the air, my body reacting to every shift of the current as though I have become a part of the wind. That same rosy-gold glow dances beneath my skin, pouring out into the cloud that lifts my body as I will it.
I head down into the mist, following the shadows of the Immortals’ Steps that loom out of the fog every once in a while.
It isn’t long before I reach the Sea of Clouds. The skies, once clear and blue, are now a churning gray that laps at the borders of the Kingdom of Sky. Shadows swirl around me. In the absolute silence, the sounds of my breathing and my pounding heartbeat fill my ears.
A screech cuts through the clouds, followed by the sound of rapid wingbeats. I draw my lotus sword. Its glow is dim in the encroaching dark, but it brings me comfort.
Like this, I can see.
Like this, others can seeme.
As though in answer, a gentle light pulses from somewhere ahead.
The wards.
I surge forward, and sure enough, there they are: tall and shimmering like sunlight on water. Strangely, where they used to be translucent, the other side is now dark, as though someone has pulled down the shutters on the entire realm.
Dread blooms in me. Just how far has the Kingdom of Night advanced into the immortal realm?
Nothing stirs around me as I draw up before the wards. The last time I stood this close to one was with Yù’chén. I distinctly remember those red scorpion lilies blooming, dangerously beautiful, as he opened his gates.
I draw a deep breath and plunge my hand through.
I feel only a brush of air against my skin…and then I’m through.
Hào’yáng was right: The wards sensed my immortal half and accepted me.
Soft light greets me as the unnatural darkness of the wards lifts and the Kingdom of Sky yawns open before me: a landscape of clouds drifting amidst floating mountains and flowering gardens. From here, the immortal realm looks as beautiful and untouched as when I left it. Curved rooftops peek out from forests of blooming wisteria; towns and villages are scattered throughout weaving bodies of water and undulating valleys suspended in the sky. The sun is hidden somewhere beyond the clouds, lending a dim golden haze to the scene.
I glance back at the wards, curious as to why they’d appeared dark from the outside—and my blood runs cold.
In the spot where I entered, the flow of the wards has frozen. Growing fast are roses as black as night, their thorny stems twisting and spreading like an ink stain on parchment.
