He sat on his bed in silence, staring at the portrait for a long, long time.Then, carding a hand through disheveled hair, he strode to the mirror. He looked like a mess. No wonder Nikai felt brave enough to be rude earlier.
As Zizi scrutinized his reflection, the ominous black speck in his left iris stared back like a raven’s eye. A shiver skittered across his skin as the speck grew and shrank, and grew and shrank again, as if it were a beating heart. His own mortal pulse seemed to slow, and he couldn’t help but feel that the realms weren’t the only ones running out of time.
Haven’t we always interfered with the mortal realm in some way?He’d done it when he was Four, and even One’s request to save Rui’s mother was a violation of the tacit agreement between the realms. He turned from the mirror abruptly, brow furrowed. Now that he thought about it, One’s request felt like too much of a coincidence. Perhaps it was time to pay them a visit.
Zizi snapped his fingers, and his brightly patterned pajamas and dressing gown transformed into a veil of midnight. A black floor-length cloak with inky feather-like embellishments draped from his shoulders, half obscuring the slim black trousers underneath and the silky silvery-white shirt that matched the streaks in his hair. Jewels glittered on his long fingers, and down his neck, leading the eye to the narrow curve of his waist where a sparkly chain hung.
Clothes fit for a King of Hell with an axe to grind.
27
Yiran
It’s not him. It can’t be him.
There was a grave, a tombstone, annual visits to the cemetery with Ash and his grandfather—
But they didn’t find a body.
Song Liming had gone down twelve years ago in a battle with Revenants at the old seaport across the river. A massive electrical fire had erupted on the site, complicating the mission and the recovery. No survivors were found, just ash and bone.
Yet here was the man in the flesh.
How could he be alive? More importantly, how could he be theleaderof the Hybrid Revenants—and still remainhuman?
Curiosity gleamed in his eyes as Song Liming rested his hand on Yiran’s shoulder. “In a perfect world, we would not be meeting like this. I would have been there for you from the start.”
His words were meant to build a connection, but instead, they unlocked a torrent of fury in Yiran. How dare this man waltz back into Yiran’s life like this? How dare he put his own son’s life in mortal danger?
Glaring, Yiran smacked his hand off.
Surprise crossed Song Liming’s face.
“Oh, come on,” Yiran jeered. “Did you really think I was going to give you a big hug and say,Hey, Dad, nice to finally meet you?”
Liming’s jaw ticked briefly with irritation before he attempted a cajoling smile. “I understand it’ll take time for you to accept this. Butyou should know that your mother and I—”
“I don’t want to hear whatever sorry excuses you have about my mother!” Yiran shouted. He’d been on the verge of passing out earlier, but a different kind of adrenaline kept him going. “I want to know whyyou’re alive when everyone thinks you’re dead. I want to know whyyouare leading the Hybrids.”
Liming seemed to understand that his son was in no state to reconcile, and he dropped all pretense of trying. He straightened his jacket, voice sharp with calculation as he spoke. “I suppose it’s unexpected that someone who was once the face of the Exorcist Guild would also be the person thwarting their efforts. But you must admit, there’s some poetry in the irony. What and whom the Guild created will ultimately destroy it.”
“Save your rhetoric,” Yiran snapped. “I want the truth.”
Liming spread his arms, as if in welcome. “The truth is all I wish to share with you.”
Yiran wasn’t falling for that. But he was curious. “Go on.”
“From the moment of their discovery, the Guild Council hid the existence of Hybrids,” Liming said. “But there were a handful of Exorcists, myself included, who thought the Hybrids might be the key to discovering the source of the Blight and getting rid of it for good. If we could figure out why Blighted humans who survive the transformation retain aspects and traits of their humanity, perhaps we could find a way toreverseit. A proper alliance with the Hybrids might be impossible, but it seemed to me that an agreement of some kind could be made. But the Council was against any discussion. The old fools were reluctant to rock the boat, even if it meant the possibility of eventual peace.”
There was some reason in what Liming was saying. Since the Blight was the source of all their troubles, wouldn’t it make sense to target it directly? But Yiran wasn’t sure if Exorcists and Hybrids could ever work together, and he wasn’t surprised that his grandfather would be against something so risky.
As if reading his thoughts, Liming went on. “We clashed, your grandfather and I, more often than you’d think. The Council sticks to their tried and tested ways. They look to history to guide them, but they don’t learn from its lessons. The world changes quickly, and progress does not come without forging new and unexplored paths. Progress cannot happenwithout disruption, without pain—” He threw a loaded glance at Yiran. “Without sacrifice.”
Yiran tensed at the last two words. Was there a hidden meaning he was missing?
“As for your question about my presumed death—it was a Hunt where everything went wrong. Because of faulty intel, the Guild sent in a small team, and the Revenant nest turned out to be bigger and the creatures more vicious than expected.” Liming lowered his head, nodding to himself. “We fought hard, but it wasn’t enough. My team was badly wounded. I was the strongest, so I lured the Revenants away, thinking I could manage on my own while my team found safety. I didn’t count on running into another nest along the way. By then, my spiritual energy was mostly spent. I was hurt, close to death whensheappeared.”
Yiran frowned. “She?”
