Mistress Liu looked at me, hopeful once more. “Are you sure, priestess?”
“Yes.” I stood, this time without swaying. I would save them all—Chunhua, her parents, Ren, and my own father.
CHAPTER 6
I returned to Fuzhou Forest with newfound purpose. This time, I knew exactly what to do. I only hoped my mistakes hadn’t already cost me this second chance.
In my hand was a warmly lit lantern, a gift from the Lius to guide my way. They’d given me an old coat too, the worn cotton comforting around my shoulders.
My throat still felt tender where my collar brushed it. But the cuts and bruises on my face quickly numbed against the cold, dulling into a near-imperceptible ache. My temple, blessedly, only smarted when I touched it.
The forest’s crooked branches and brambly, rough paths seemed less intimidating now that I’d walked through them once. Now that I’d learned the spirit’s name and met her parents and knew the human she’d been.
Even so, the deeper I went, the more strongly I sensed the spirit’s anger pulsing toward me. It pierced through my sense of self-preservation, tempting me to run away. But I gritted my teeth and pushed onward.
The blood-chilling sensation grew so overwhelming, I nearly walked past the oak from which Chunhua had hanged herself—the oak where she’d nearly hangedme. The sound of a ragged exhale reached my ears, and I felt frozen fingers trace across my throat.
I spun, my own hand flying to my neck in self-defense. When I lifted my lantern to cast its light across the cramped clearing, I saw no one. But I felt far from alone.
“Where are you?” I demanded, my tone carrying the slightest of tremors.
A soft—living—moan came from near the roots of the looming oak. I approached the tree warily. The grooves in the bark resembled a sneer, the branches’ outstretched claws poised to sweep down and snatch me if I wasn’t careful.
As I drew closer, expecting to be startled by the gaping face of Liu Chunhua, I recognized Ren nestled between the roots. His chest rose faintly with his failing breaths. Purple contusions marred his neck. His limbs appeared tossed haphazardly around his body. The Fu talisman on his forehead had been partially ripped. I lifted the paper and saw that his eyes were shut, the shadows beneath bruising his ashen complexion.
“Your Highness,” I whispered, forgetting Chunhua. I set down the lantern so that I could gently pat his cheek. “Ren, wake up.”
He groaned again, his eyes cracking open with great effort. Already, his dark-brown irises looked flat and lifeless. He spoke in a sigh. “Mistress… Kang. You… returned.”
The surprise in his tone stung. I cleared my throat and said, “Don’t make me regret it. Can you stand?”
I immediately rued the thoughtlessness of my question, myeyes tracing his dislocated joints. But he didn’t seem to be listening.
He closed his eyes. “I feel so… tired.”
“Don’t fall asleep,” I said, reaching into my coat. “I’ll prepare a new talisman for you. It should be enough to—”
“No.” A low whine rose from his throat as he tried to move his hand. “The spirit… first. You’ll need… staff.”
My gaze fell to the peach staff lying beside him, its wooden rod blending in with the tree roots. Somehow, he’d kept it safe. I wrapped my hand around it, relieved to have it back. But when I looked at Ren, fear wrung my stomach. How could I leave him dying? What if his qi ran out before I could purify Liu Chunhua’s spirit? Should I prepare a new talisman—
Icy tendrils crawled over my body and wrenched me backward. Yelping, I hugged the peach staff to my chest, and the pressure vanished—but not before dropping me roughly to the ground. I pushed myself onto my elbow, wincing, strands of undone hair streaking my vision. The staff’s iron bells chimed cheerily.
From my periphery, I detected a pale shape hovering nearby. Its hatred was as sharp as an ax swinging at my head. I turned to see the spirit moving toward me, dark liquid—like tree sap or mud—bleeding from her hollow eyes and mouth. Her form twitched violently, as if her bones were replaying the way they’d snapped when she dropped from the tree with a rope around her neck.
Worse than her unnatural movements, though, was the vile aura she emitted. It slid down my throat like oil, coating the lining of my stomach and making me want to vomit.
I flung out the hand not gripping the holy weapon. “Wait!”
The spirit ignored me, moving closer.
“Liu Chunhua! I beg of you, stop!”
At the sound of her name, the spirit froze.
Then she disappeared.
I shoved the hair from my face and clambered to my feet, scanning the clearing, which was lit dimly by the lantern still resting next to Ren. I resisted the urge to study him for signs of breathing. If I wanted to help Ren, I needed to help the spirit first.
