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They suffer because of you, a harsh voice inside me hissed. You should never have taken the dragons’ pearls. See what your greed and arrogance have spawned. Remorse stabbed me like a knife thrust deep, but there were other forces at play, too—the emperor’s craving for power and Wenzhi’s relentless ambition. I would not pay the price alone in my conscience. And I would not wallow in guilt now, not when there was still a chance to end this.

An insidious thought slid into me, that I could so easily make this right. The dragons—what if I called them to aid us? I had summoned the Black Dragon to carry me to safety before. Why not harness them to drive away the enemy? In a single stroke I could save the Celestial Army and repay Wenzhi for his treachery. With their power at my command, I could wrest my mother’s freedom from the emperor. My vision shifted: I saw myself with a crown on my head, raising high those loyal to me, tearing down all who had caused me harm. Only then, would I relinquish the pearls. All I had to do was speak the dragons’ names . . .

My hand drifted to my pouch. Struggling against its lure, I snatched it back. No, such a thing would destroy the dragons, it would destroy me. I could never forgive myself. I had made a promise to them—one I meant, one I would keep. I dared not venture down a path I might never find my way back from, at least not until every other lane had been traversed.

I turned to Shuxiao. “Wind. Rain. Anything to cleanse the skies.”

She nodded, squeezing her eyes tight in concentration, the veins straining from her neck. I grasped as much of my energy as I could muster, the power coursing through my body.

“Now!” I cried.

Magic streamed from our palms. A gust of wind surged through the clouds, snatched from a summer storm in the mortal world, laced with dust and heat. Something jolted our cloud and I stumbled, steadying myself to feed the hungering wind—the churning air transforming into a howling gale which hurtled through the sky, dispelling the mist from those closest to us.

Yet our reach was not wide enough; hundreds were still in danger. Worse still, the Demons began countering our efforts, forcing the mist back upon us. It writhed thicker now, trapped between both sides. How much longer could we sustain this? Our shields would not hold indefinitely; even now, we were tiring. If we failed to banish the mist soon, it would return in greater force, engulfing us all.

Just ahead, a cluster of Demons shot by, led by Wenzhi. I hesitated for a moment, before summoning a cloud and leaping upon it to give chase.

“What are you doing?” Shuxiao cried.

“Going after them.”

“Are you mad?” she yelled, gesturing at the horde of confounded Celestials ahead.

“No, which is precisely why I’m doing this.” I pointed at Wenzhi. “His presence here is no coincidence. Maybe I’ll find a way to stop this.”

Trailing Wenzhi through the clouds, I flew in a winding path to avoid detection—though there was little chance of him sensing my aura amid this vast tangle of immortals. I pulled the Jade Dragon Bow from my back, clutching it in readiness. Here, the mist was so dense, I could barely see beyond the shimmering haze of crimson dust. As a whiff of its cloying fragrance hit me—of honey and of rot—I held my breath at once, tightening my shield. I could not lose control now, when a moment might make the difference between life and death. Between killing an enemy or a loved one.

A short distance away was Liwei, harnessing a raging wind to clear the air. It was working, the soldiers beginning to emerge from their stupor and move away from General Liutan—but then Wenzhi swooped toward him like a hawk sighting its prey. Had Liwei been his target all this while? He would fail, I resolved, racing after him with my heart thumping in my chest.

Liwei’s head shot up, as though he sensed Wenzhi’s approach. For a moment, they stared at each other—eyes so bright, so dangerously narrowed—I went cold inside. Swords drawn now, they lunged at each other with unrestrained ferocity. Blades clashing, sparks raining down in a shower of fire and ice, the clouds trembling from the force of their blows. For a moment I could not move, trapped in fear’s embrace—yet transfixed by the savage grace of their swordsmanship, their movements a blur in this merciless battle.

My fingers were stiff as I drew my bow, Sky-fire crackling in my grip. I steeled myself to release, reminding myself that Wenzhi was the enemy. But they were too quick, blades flashing, bodies whirling and spinning. What if I missed?

Just then, Liwei dipped low, evading Wenzhi’s sword which sliced over his head—then rolling back to thrust his blade toward Wenzhi’s chest. He swerved, swinging his sword in a wide arc, slashing through Liwei’s armor, his blood spraying into the air. Liwei gasped, clutching his wound.

As Wenzhi loomed over him, raising his sword—something inside me snapped. Not the bow, this close, the Sky-fire might hurt Liwei, too. Coils of air sprang from my palms, striking Wenzhi. He folded over like he had been punched in the gut, stumbling to the edge of his cloud. Catching his balance, a shield closed around him now.

He swung to me. “Xingyin, you have your powers back.”

“No thanks to you,” I snarled.

“You’re too late, though.” Regret laced his tone as he raised his hand again, daggers of ice streaking toward Liwei—

I shot through the air, hurling myself between them, slamming a barrier around Liwei and me—Wenzhi’s attack shattering harmlessly against it. It stirred something in my mind, a recollection of the time Wenzhi and I had stood in the Chamber of Lions, when he had instructed me to use my powers. I did not think he ever expected his lesson to be used so.

Wenzhi’s face tightened, was it with anger? Disappointment? As he drew back, the air roiled with his energy, crashing against my shield. It quivered as I braced myself, holding it steady against him—but then his soldiers attacked, unleashing their magic upon us. My shield ruptured, shards of ice and wood and flame scraping me. My teeth sank into my tongue, stifling a cry. Something hissed from behind me, fire erupting over the Demon soldiers, cast by Liwei. He shifted his hand toward Wenzhi, the tongues of vermilion flame now streaking toward him—so hot, like they were torn from the sun.

Wenzhi’s shield broke. He was flung back—right off his cloud, plunging into the depths below. My heart . . . it dropped. I rushed to the edge, peering down as his soldiers hurtled after him—their power dragging him to safety. A mess of tangled emotions wound through me, one of which was undeniably relief.

“You’re making a habit of saving me,” Liwei remarked.

“I thought we weren’t keeping count.” I glanced below again, half fearing to see Wenzhi emerge. “This isn’t over yet, Liwei. We must hurry.”

All around us, the fog swirled thicker; Liwei’s earlier efforts for naught. Once more, the soldiers closed around General Liutan whose hair was slicked with sweat, his shield beginning to waver.

My magic was already flowing forth to summon a gale, Liwei’s energy merging with mine in seamless streams of light. Sweat poured from my face, my knees almost buckling from the strain. Though the mist thinned a little, it still hung over the trapped Celestials who were beginning to turn their attention to us. Flames shot out from the hands of one. I ducked, barely missing a scorching. Another hurled a spear at Liwei, but he deflected the blow with ease. While General Liutan crouched on his cloud, bearing the brunt of their attacks.

Just ahead, I sighted the Demon soldiers in the onyx studded helmets. Those I had seen when flying with the Black Dragon, only now visible in the heart of the fog. The Mind Talents who had crafted the mist, their eyes aglitter as waves of crimson light swirled from their palms. Yet their faces were strained and beaded with sweat.