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Lady Hualing, the deposed Flower Immortal? I thought she had left the forest or vanished through some foul play. Never did I imagine her living in these dark caves.

“You were one of the greatest immortals of our kingdom until you chose to live in seclusion. Do you truly wish to betray the Immortal Realm?” Liwei continued, his voice calm despite his peril. Perhaps he still hoped to sway her with reason.

She laughed then, a bitter and joyless sound. “Me betray the kingdom? Did you think I chose this life? Let me tell you the real story, little princeling. Long ago, your father and I met in this forest. He was newly wed to your mother, though that did not stop him from courting me.”

Liwei jerked up from his chair, but two guards dragged him back down, clamping their palms on his shoulders.

She did not appear to notice, lost in her memories. “Whenever he could get away, he came here. He offered me a palace in the Celestial Kingdom. I refused. I was no lowly courtier grateful for his favor, but one of the most illustrious deities in the realm.” A softness slipped into her face. “One spring evening when the peonies were in bloom, he made a vow to me. That once he grew powerful enough to risk angering the Phoenix Kingdom, he would wed me, raising me to the same rank as the empress.”

Liwei shook his head, the blood from his wound streaking across his cheek. “My father would never have made such a reckless promise.”

“Those in love often make promises they can’t keep,” she snarled. “When word reached your mother’s ears, she paid me a visit, spitting her threats and venom. Before she left, she gave me a gift.” The light in the cavern flickered as Lady Hualing lifted her veil.

In the classic oval of her face, her full lips were a vibrant red, her nose delicately arched. The thin faded scars, one across each cheek, puzzled me—yet so slight they were barely noticeable.

The veil dropped once more. “The scars left by the Phoenix Talons can never be healed. I must live with these hideous marks, forever.”

I flinched, recalling those sharp gold sheaths covering the empress’s fingers which might so easily rake through flesh and bone. But despite what Lady Hualing thought, she was beautiful still. It was the viciousness in her expression that turned my stomach.

“There must be an explanation. What if it was a spirit, taking on my mother’s appearance?” Liwei protested.

“You ignorant child. Who else wears the Phoenix Talons? Who else had I threatened, isolated as I was?” she sneered. “Worse still, your father, the faithless coward, abandoned me. In one stroke I was robbed of my beauty, betrayed by my love, stripped of my title. Of all I cherished most. Since then, my life has been a misery, steeped in wretchedness and regret.”

As she stretched out her fingers to caress Liwei’s cheek, he recoiled from her, as far back as his captors would allow. “So, it is only fitting that I seize from my tormentors the one thing they prize above all. You, their son. The person most loved, by those I most hate.”

“Lady Hualing, consider carefully what you do. This is treason at the highest level. You will be an outcast from the Immortal Realm, hunted by Celestials and our allies alike. They will descend upon this place and—”

Her laughter was shrill and grating. And when she stopped, her smile was that of a sated fox. “I’m no fool, Your Highness. I will not be here when they come. Once I present your lifeforce to the Demon King, I will earn his eternal gratitude. A bridal gift, if you wish to call it so. Maybe then he can defeat your accursed parents, and when he sits on the Celestial Throne it will be I who is beside him. Finally, the empress,” she gloated, lifting a ring set with an oval amethyst that glowed with malevolent light.

The sight of it stirred a deep revulsion in me, inexplicable and strange. And what did she mean about Liwei’s lifeforce?

He showed not a trace of fear. “Lady Hualing, a grave injustice was done to you. Release me and I give you my word, I will investigate this matter. Any wrong done to you will be righted. Don’t fall for the Demon King’s promises. His treachery is boundless.”

“As is that of your parents,” she hissed, pressing the ring to his forehead.

The cords in Liwei’s neck strained as his face clenched in agony. The amethyst flared with a shimmer of gold, just before his eyelids fluttered shut like the wings of a trapped moth.

Something snapped inside me. I did not think. Consumed by rage, my hands moved of their own volition, releasing a fiery arrow which plunged into Lady Hualing’s arm. She shrieked, snatching her hand from Liwei as the guards rushed to her aid. I aimed an arrow at Liwei’s manacles, just as how I had shot them from the princess. But I was trembling too much from rage and instead, it struck the chain between his wrists. They snapped apart, Liwei slumping to the ground. He stirred then, my heart leaping as his eyes opened and fixed upon me, wide with shock and luminous with . . . some emotion I could not read. Before he could move, the guards surrounded him swiftly, shields gleaming over them. A coldness engulfed me, fear mingling with rage as I shot arrow after arrow at them—until their barriers broke and they fell like stalks of rice at harvesttime. Bolts of magic and arrows hurtled toward me now, as I flung myself against the stone floor, rolling to safety. I was tiring, rapidly; I had to conserve my energy. My mind raced, trying to think of some way to distract Lady Hualing and her guards below, so I could snatch Liwei and make our escape. But then, the air pulsed with magic, the rich scent of earth and metal suffusing my nostrils. A brilliant green moss crept over the ledge, spreading like spilled water—its thorny roots sinking deep, cracks streaking across the stone. I lurched up, backing away, shielding myself—a heartbeat before the ledge shattered.

I crashed through the air, falling through nothingness. Liwei’s cry pierced my ears, uttering my name with wrenching desperation. Below, Lady Hualing flicked her hand toward me, dispelling my shield. No longer protected, my feet slammed against the rough cavern floor, my knees giving way as I tumbled over. Rolling to my side, I sprang to my feet as the soldiers closed around me. Fewer now, yet more than I could take on without getting hurt. I cursed my recklessness which had led to discovery. Better by far to have remained hidden, to pick them off unaware. But what could I have done with Liwei in such danger? As the guards thrust their spears at me, I hauled my energy—unleashing a gale which flung Lady Hualing and her soldiers against the rock walls.

Spinning around, I rushed to Liwei, but the soldiers—those remaining—scrambled to close around him, some holding him fast. Lady Hualing stalked closer to me, jeweled hairpins dangling askew from her coiled hair. Her veil was torn away, the scars now vivid against the pale fury of her skin.

“Who are you?” Her tone was thick with menace.

I drew my bow in reply, aiming a bolt of flame at her.

“Stop, or he dies,” she said flatly, gesturing to the soldier beside her who pressed the tip of her spear against Liwei’s neck.

At once, I forced my fingers to loosen, the flaming arrow vanishing.

Lady Hualing’s gaze fixed on the Phoenix Fire Bow, before sliding to my face. “Ah . . . the archer. The First Archer, is that what they call you? I have heard of your accomplishments.” She sounded curious. Intrigued, even. “A pity that your abilities are wasted in the service of the Celestial Kingdom.”

“Who told you about me?” I was not conceited enough to believe that my fame had spread to this remote place.

She did not answer, merely tapping her chin, seemingly lost in thought. “Your zeal in protecting the Crown Prince is admirable, to venture here where nothing but death awaits you. Forget him. Join us against the Celestial Kingdom. The Demon Realm would reward you well. Any position, any honor would be yours to demand.”

“Never.” My refusal burst out, though I cursed myself in the next instant for revealing myself so. A wiser course would have been to feign interest in her offer and gain her trust, to have a hope of escaping. But this had always been my weakness, my inability to think clearly when my heart was clouded.