Page 57 of Drawn into Oblivion

Throat tight and only able to nod, Mai wrapped her arms around Shumei’s slight waist. The Divine One released her slowly, kneeling as the empress’s weight bore Mai to the gray grass. That Shumei was asleep even in this place worried Mai. She held her friend close, letting the empress’s head rest on her shoulder.

“Vallen wanted to come too,” she whispered, hoping Shumei could hear her.

“I did not let him. You alone were meant to be here,” the Divine One said. Mai looked up and saw only his chin from within the deep shadows of his hood.

“What do you mean?”

“You will understand. The last of it, I give to you,” he proclaimed.

Surprised and uncertain, she stiffened as he reached for her. He gripped her shoulder and cupped her cheek. She felt his breath on her mouth a second before his lips met hers. A sizzling sound echoed up his throat.

Her gasp was lost to the roar of magic that surged between them—from him to her. She jerked as power jetted down her throat. It didn’t flow thick and warm as it had before. This power was forceful and potent, burning as it pushed inside. The nearly painful invasion made her convulse the same way the empress had. Her head felt as heavy as a tree, and her skin stretched tight, especially her abdomen. The pressure practically made her bones creak, and yet, power continued surging into her, packing itself as tightly as it could.

When she thought she might burst, the Divine One pulled away, breaking their connection. A moment passed as the world shimmered and shifted before her eyes, like heat waves rippling in the air.

Once she could focus, she looked to the Divine One and gasped at the sight of his lips. They were thin, gray, and cracked. She had seen dead and dying trees aplenty where she’d grown up, and his mouth reminded her of them. The air was so thin and cold she wondered how she was still breathing, and the reminder she wasn’t physically there sent another wave of dizziness washing over her. She leaned back on her hand, and the dead grass crunched beneath her palm.

“Y-you didn’t,” she said, breathless and aghast. “What if we fail? Will you die too?”

“Hold her close,” he said, sounding as old and tired as Master Gin. “Touch your cheek to hers.” She dared not question him a second time and did as he commanded.

“I promise,” she declared. What she had vowed, she didn’t know. But she felt the need to do so all the same. “You have my word.”

“Close your eyes,” he whispered as he lifted his wizened hand. He touched her face.

Her eyes shot open. She pulled in a breath of air, dry lips peeling open. She was back in the empress’s bedroom. Before she could get her bearings, she was distracted by something burning against her back. She bolted upright and reached into her belt, but then jerked her hand away with a hiss. The dagger she’d stowed was red-hot. She considered unlooping her belt, but the weapon was cooling rapidly. In only a moment, she was able to remove it and study it. However, nothing seemed different or magical about it. Perhaps mind-walking affected metals? How odd.

Though the candles were now a third spent, everything was how she had left it. And yet, compared to where she had been, the room felt surreal, like seeing an old face from years ago. She had felt so far away from anything ordinary, as if only a great journey would take her back, but only a moment had passed since the Divine One had touched her.

That place of trees and flowers, had that been a part of Shumei’s mind? Perhaps a memory of somewhere she’d been, or a dream of somewhere she wanted to go? The way that beauteous place had faded to ghostly shades of gray while the Divine One gave to Shumei what he had also given to Mai…

Power. A great deal of it, many times over what he had granted her before. Even sitting there, she felt painfully full, as though she had eaten too much and had gone back for dessert…twice. She could only hope the sensation would lessen in a few hours’ time.

She doubted the memory of what the power exchange had done to the Divine One would ever fade. He had withered and even…decayed a little. Though difficult to believe, the frightening truth was she had not gone into Shumei’s mind—merely followed it. The Divine One had called his champion into his Garden, and Mai had followed her through the Veil. There, the Divine One had been transferring the bulk of his power to the empress, and when she could take no more, he had given the small remainder to Mai.

In essence, the Divine One had made Shumei a goddess. He was betting everything on her, for if she failed in her task to defeat the Damned One… Mai didn’t want to think about it.

Shumei and Vallen still lay asleep on the bed. She touched Shumei’s forehead and was glad to find her temperature had gone down. She didn’t want to try rousing them yet, nor did she want to leave them alone in slumber.

So she slipped off the bed and put her dagger into her belt as she walked to the door. No one stood outside, which didn’t bode well. She knew that three of Shumei’s personal guards had been sent with Rosuke to stop the artillery, but where were the rest of them? By the dueling gods, the empress had been unconscious and completely vulnerable for at least half an hour. Perhaps they had been temporarily reassigned, but what could be more important than guarding the empress?

She shut the door and looked around the bedroom for something useful to do. Shumei’s headdress caught her eye, and she decided she could make the empress more comfortable by taking it off. Removing it and its pins without tugging on Shumei’s hair took a moment, but Mai managed. Thankfully, she was able to fix a couple of silk braids that had been bent out of place. Then she carried the headdress to the vanity, where its case still sat open, and put it away.

And to think just this morning, she had been sitting at this vanity and pouting at Shumei’s request for Mai to call her by her name and not her title. So much had happened since then.

She would give almost anything to know whether Rosuke was all right. His combat prowess and experience were nearly unmatched, but the same had been true of Vallen when the Damned One’s champion had taken his life, albeit briefly. However, she hadn’t heard any artillery since she’d woken. Was the battle outside the city over? Was Rosuke coming for her even now?

Not that they could disappear together, even though all she wanted was to be alone with him, confirming with her hands that he was safe and alive. She didn’t want to think about the attack, the mind-walking, or what had happened in the Garden. But surely there would be several meetings overnight, assuming things had settled for now.

A faint breeze from an unlatched window made the candlelight flicker, pulling her out of her thoughts. Sighing, she stood straighter and turned away from the vanity, only to have her gaze catch on something, like a dress snagged on a thorn.

The warped reflection of a candle flame danced across the lid of the coal wood box. It seemed larger than she recalled, and its varnish gleamed under the yellow light like hardened slime. Even as she recoiled from the box, she found herself stepping closer.

The need to know what lay inside was a burning question blazed across the front of her mind. Before she could rethink her decision, she was obsessively searching for a key. Drawers rasped loudly in the still room, their contents shifting with the force Mai used to open them. When her search turned up nothing, she began to look in strange places, such as the underside of the empress’s tubs of creams or in crevices along the vanity’s mirror.

Then she stopped and slowly turned her head to the headdress’s case. Normally it was locked. Normally only the empress could open it. Mai unsnapped the clasps, tilted the lid up, and pulled out both the headdress and its bed of neatly folded white silk. Beneath lay a small silver key. She picked it up, heart sprinting, and slid it into the lock of the coal wood box. It fit perfectly, and turning it made a satisfying, terrifying click.

Her magic buzzed with agitation, still bloated from what the Divine One had done earlier. It didn’t like whatever the box contained. She opened the lid slowly, ready for some sort of magical trap to spring.