As the blades quivered in her grasp, I pried them gently fromher.
“Why?” she whispered.
It took me a moment to realize she was asking why I had risked my life to help her. I had asked myself that too. I didn’t like her. No doubt she felt the same about me.
I returned the scissors to my belt. My tongue felt leaden, and my mouth became dry. I didn’t know what to tell her.
Before he left, Edan had called me the hope of A’landi. But he’d been wrong. I couldn’t be the hope of A’landi, not when I was turning into a demon. But Lady Sarnai, daughter of the shansen and bride of the emperor, could unite the North and South. She was a princess and a warrior in her own right.
“Because you are the hope of A’landi,” I replied softly.
She licked her lips, still cracked and parched. “Khanujin will punish you for this.”
“I’m not afraid.”
Lady Sarnai raised an eyebrow as if she didn’t believe me. But she said no more.
“We have to go now,” I urged her. “The guards are wakening.”
“How many?”
Ever practical was the shansen’s daughter.
“At least three in the dungeon. Four at the entrance. More outside.”
Sarnai barely flinched at the numbers. Her strength was returning.
Without a word of thanks, she rose and slipped out of the cell. Moments later, I heard a guard exclaim, “You—”
Bones cracked, and swords clanged against the iron doors and stone walls. Bodies fell.
I winced, regretting I hadn’t asked her to leave the men alive.
Once the threat of the guards had been eliminated, Lady Sarnai returned. I was one step ahead of her; I’d already opened the door to Lord Xina’s cell.
She draped Lord Xina’s arm over her shoulders and raised him up. His body was a bloody lattice of cuts and bruises, pus oozing out of his wounds, but once he saw her, his charcoal eyes flickered to life, and he coughed.
Lady Sarnai’s frown eased, the only sign of relief she gave. “Can you walk, Xina?”
He looked haggard, his wide face longer than I remembered. But he gritted his teeth, got onto his feet, and gave a curt nod.
Blood dribbled from his mouth, which was swollen and had many teeth missing. He was too hurt to speak, but it was clear my presence displeased him—whereas he seemed not the least bit fazed about Sarnai’s changed appearance. As fleeting as it was, for that moment, he’d won my respect.
“Quickly then,” said Sarnai tersely. “We must make it to the river before dusk.”
“The river?” I echoed. The Leyang River was south of the Autumn Palace. “Shouldn’t you bear north, toward your father?”
“My father?” Lady Sarnai spun to face me.
“Aren’t you going to fight him—and his demon?”
She stared at me, her dark eyes narrowing, making me feel very naïve and very stupid. “What do you think I could do against them? Oh yes, you think I’m the hope of A’landi.”
A dry laugh escaped her. “I’ve done nothing but bleed for this country. Its peace and salvation mean nothing to me. Not anymore.”
“But—”
“My father won’t stop until he secures the throne,” she snapped. “He and his demon will tear this country apart if that’s what must be done. I’m leaving before that happens.” She raised a sword she’d plucked from one of the defeated guards. “If you’ve any wits, you’ll go too.”
