Page 110

My body quivered as I pressed my palms against the floor, raising my head an inch from the ground. Each breath I drew was a shuddering torment. My pendant slipped out from the folds of my robe, the jade disc clinking against the tiles.

Had only a few seconds passed? It had been a lifetime of suffering.

“Father!” Liwei’s shout pierced my ears again, along with that ominous crack in the air.

I stared at him, dazed, as a shining barrier of gold light encased me. Just as when he had protected me from the Demon soldiers—the emperor’s Sky-fire splintering to nothingness when it struck. My body went limp with relief at this reprieve, despite the shield shattering a moment after. Liwei rushed forward, standing between me and the thrones —his face pale, sweat running down his brow. He had come to my aid, just as I always knew he would.

“Liwei, move aside. I’ll show you no leniency if you defy me again.” The emperor’s voice was so hostile, it was as though he spoke to an enemy instead of his son.

The empress dashed down from the dais, stumbling in her haste. The gold flowers on her headdress shivered like they were caught in a gale. “Liwei, this deceitful girl does not deserve your protection. Her actions have threatened us all.” She tugged his arm to pull him away.

As he yanked free of her grip, the emperor nodded at his guards who ran toward Liwei. I wanted to tell him to leave, yet was filled with a violent joy that he fought to stay. I was so cold, I did not think I would ever feel warm again—but as I watched his struggles, a spark kindled deep inside me, my arm stretching across the floor in a futile attempt to reach him.

The emperor’s gaze flicked to me as he raised his hand. My battered body could not withstand another attack, yet I forced my eyes to open—even as his fingertips blazed once more.

Time ceased. Sky-fire streaked toward me with dazzling speed, yet agonizing slowness. Liwei’s cry shattered my stupor. I shook my head, a scream erupting from my throat as he wrenched free of the guards, lunging forward to shield me with his body—even as I reached out to push him aside. Even as I knew I was too late.

“No.” A broken whisper as he clasped my hands. As my eyes met his—brimming with such warmth and love—I could not regret this final sight.

White light filled my vision. I braced for death.

Yet no stabbing pain pierced my skin . . . no blistering agony ripped through my flesh. Instead, I was encased in a luminous cocoon, as soft and tender as the mist at dawn. My eyes darted to Liwei’s. He was safe and alive—as was I. It was then, I felt it, a coolness rippling across my chest. I pulled my hand from Liwei’s to grasp my father’s pendant, tingling against my skin and sheathed in radiance. The same light which had shielded Liwei and me from harm. Yet all too soon it faded, the jade warming between my fingers as the smooth stone cracked—just as before the Long Dragon’s breath repaired it.

The Celestial Emperor . . . I did not recognize him in this moment. Pale with shock, red with rage. Did he feel any remorse for almost killing his son? He would have none for me. As his stony gaze swung my way, I forced myself to hold it—I would embrace his loathing and return it with my own.

Liwei swept his robe aside, kneeling upon the floor. “Honorable Father, your command was to retrieve the pearls from the dragons in exchange for repealing the sentence of the Moon Goddess. You did not mention their spiritual essence. If we have erred, I plead for mercy on our behalf. Yet the four pearls are before you, delivered as promised. Only one side of the bargain remains to be fulfilled. Yours.”

His voice carried to each corner of the hall, stirring the court from their stupor. A few courtiers, the braver ones, nodded in agreement. Whispers were exchanged behind raised sleeves. Of course, they knew little of the pearls and the great power they once held. In their eyes I had completed my task, only to be rewarded with a lightning bolt to my chest.

The Celestial Emperor stilled. Had Liwei’s words reminded him of the many speculative eyes watching? Silent tongues which might withhold their judgment here might not be so restrained when they returned home. Had he been deemed just and benevolent? Or capricious and cruel? As for me, Liwei had irrevocably linked our fates together. “My” choices had become “our” choices. My punishment would be his, too. I had fought for Liwei in the Eternal Spring Forest, just as he was fighting for me here. Then I shook my head to banish such thoughts. As he had told me before, there was no need for such accounting between us. No matter how our paths diverged, our bond remained intact.

“Your Celestial Majesty,” the silken tones of Minister Wu slithered forth once more. “I humbly advise you to quash such defiance at once. This girl and her mother will make a mockery of the Celestial Kingdom. Do not forget how Chang’e concealed her child’s existence from you, just as her daughter attempted to deceive you now. What if others believe they can trick you so and escape unscathed?”

Liwei rounded on him, pointing to where I lay slumped upon the floor. “Unscathed? Can you bear the Sky-fire as she did? She has more than paid for any offense—”

“Silence!” the emperor lashed out, gripping the armrests of his throne.

The air was stifling, thick with tension. No one dared to move, not even the empress, as she stared at Liwei with wide disbelieving eyes.

The Celestial Emperor’s mouth clamped into thin lines. Ice glistened in the air once more as my body recoiled in remembrance of the torment, bracing for death’s embrace.

The sharp click of boots against the tiles broke the stillness. An aura approached—steady, resolute, and strong—that of General Jianyun. Before the dais, he sank to his knees.

“Your Celestial Majesty. Before you pass judgment, it is your loyal servant’s duty to remind you that the First Archer saved the Celestial Army from the Demon Realm’s heinous trap today. The soldiers wish to show her their gratitude and even now, they await outside.” He raised his head, gesturing to the entrance of the hall.

I looked up in disbelief, staggering to my feet, ignoring the pain that bloomed with each movement. Slowly, I turned, following the sweep of General Jianyun’s hand. The courtiers before me parted, whispering among themselves.

Shuxiao stood near the entrance—and just behind her, beyond the hall, was a sea of Celestial soldiers, stretching out farther than I could see. As one, they bowed, sunlight rippling over their armor, a wave of golden-white fire. My heart caught in my throat as the pain in my body subsided. Tears sprang into my eyes as I lowered myself to them in return.

I was not loyal to the Celestial Kingdom. But I was loyal to my friends; those I had fought with, those I had bled with. As I straightened, my eyes met Shuxiao’s. I lifted my hand to her in greeting. I suspected I had much to be grateful to her for. Who else would have informed General Jianyun and brought the army here?

The army of the Celestial Emperor.

My skin crawled along the back of my neck. Recalling myself, I spun around and sank to my knees again. I would not plead or beg; it would do no good. “Your Celestial Majesty, I am no traitor. I fulfilled the terms of our bargain and I await your justice.” My words were graceless, my voice hoarse from my screams—yet whatever came after, there was a peace in knowing that I had done all I could.

The murmurs in the hall swelled louder, several courtiers shaking their heads. While the soldiers did not disperse, remaining at the entrance of the hall.

The Celestial Emperor’s face was a mask of regal poise, without a trace of his vehemence and rage from a moment ago. And when he spoke, his tone was steady and calm. “First Archer Xingyin. In gratitude for your noble service, we will grant your wish. Chang’e is pardoned and will henceforth be free to leave the moon. However, she is not to shirk her responsibilities. As the Moon Goddess, it still falls upon her to ensure the moon rises each night—without exception.”