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I continued playing until the end of the song; to stop now would invite suspicion. The plaintive melody was a fitting farewell to all we had lost.

The moment the last note faded, I leapt to my feet. I was not sure how long I had until the draught wore off. Grabbing a sword from his collection—a white jade hilt studded with rubies—I looked toward the door, only to shake my head. I could not escape before finding the pearls; I could not leave them in Wenzhi’s keeping. I stole a glance at his still form, his dark green robes spread across the floor, his hair spilling around him like a pool of ink. Sleep relaxed his stern features, tugging at my conscience, shame sweeping over me in this moment.

That like him, now, deceit came so easily to me.

34

The pearls were here, I was certain of it. Wenzhi would keep so precious an item close at hand, particularly on the eve of battle. Flinging open the drawers in his desk, I found only a few seals of jade and metal, an inkstone, and loose sheets of paper. The shelves held nothing but books and scrolls, while the closet was stacked with garments that tumbled to the floor in my frantic search.

The sun descended, the room growing darker. I lit the silk-paneled lanterns which cast their soft glow across the walls. Deep in slumber, Wenzhi’s rhythmic breathing broke the silence. How much time did I have until the draught wore off? He had asked not to be disturbed, yet how long would that order stand? What if someone brought him a meal, or a report? And I could not help wondering, what the guards outside believed us to be doing all this time.

My nails cut into my palms. I forced myself to calm, to think. In Xiangliu’s lair I had somehow sensed the Jade Dragon Bow’s presence. Closing my eyes, I focused on drowning out the powerful thrum of Wenzhi’s aura, reaching out with my senses as I did when taking a particularly challenging shot. I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to steady the thud of my heart, to silence my fear, frustration, and hope, too—just as Teacher Daoming had taught me. As the stillness descended, I breathed easier, the tension easing from my body. All around was the soothing darkness threaded with glimmers of light.

My eyes flew open. There it was, that elusive sensation grazing my awareness—a whisper, a brush of wind. Calling to me, just as it had when it drew me to the hidden cavern in Shadow Peak. Surely the pearls would be kept in the same place as the Jade Dragon Bow.

It was like feeling my way blind in the night, but for a thread of spider silk between my fingers as a guide. Step by step, I traced the pull to a small, lacquered cabinet in a corner of the room. In my frantic search, I must have missed it—or had it been enchanted to stay out of sight? I dashed to it and tugged the handles, only to find it secured with a heavy brass lock. Impatient now, I snatched up my sword and sawed at the hinges as hard as I could. The wood was sturdy and it took time, splinters piercing my skin before the panel broke and swung free.

Someone cleared his throat behind me, a deliberate sound crawling with menace. I spun around, afraid to find Wenzhi waking up, only to look into the gloating yellow orbs of Prince Wenshuang.

I had not heard him enter, so intent was I on my task. Only now did I perceive the shift in the air, pulsing with the heat of his aura. He shut the doors behind him as I smothered the urge to cry out. Dread sank over me at his presence, but I feared more alerting the guards. If they came in, nothing I uttered would convince them of my innocence. But he was just one man and I was so close now, if only I could rid myself of him.

“Does my dear brother know what you’re doing?” He spoke in a pleasant tone, a smile playing on his lips.

I did not reply, my mind drawing a blank. His finger tapped his chin as his stare swept the room. It had been immaculate when I entered, yet now appeared as though a tornado had swept through, scattering Wenzhi’s possessions with abandon.

“I think not.” He answered his own question.

My pulse quickened as I took a casual step to the side, trying to block Wenzhi’s sleeping form from his sight. His eyes followed me, an eerie light flaring in them as they alighted on his brother. Despair surged in me, that surely he would cry out. I would have no choice but to attack him, as guards poured into the room at the first clash of metal. I would be imprisoned or killed, leaving the dragons to be enslaved, and my mother trapped forever. And Liwei and the Celestial Army would perish.

Without warning, his magic surged through the air, the walls of the room shimmering with a translucent light that sank into the crevices between the windows and doors. A coldness formed in the pit of my stomach like I had swallowed a chunk of ice. I knew this enchantment; I had woven it once before, to prevent my music from drifting across the Courtyard of Eternal Tranquility. Even if I screamed until my throat was hoarse, the guards outside would hear nothing but the rustling wind.

The thought heartened yet terrified me.

“What are you doing?” I was glad my confusion masked my fear and it helped that it was unfeigned. Even though the room was silenced and my bow was just a quick lunge away, I dared not risk him discovering the pearls. Not while his magic rippled off him while mine was still bound.

“You have my deepest thanks. I’ve long wished for this moment. It wasn’t enough for my little brother to be revered and praised by all, he had to steal my birthright, too.” His hands bunched into fists by his sides.

I stepped away from him, closer to the lacquered cabinet.

He cocked his head at me. “I’m so grateful, I’ll even let you flee. It would save me the trouble of disposing of you and it would strengthen my story.”

I froze. “Story?”

“Everyone will weep at the tragic tale. How the Celestial spy, the one my stupid half-brother fell in love with, betrayed and killed him.” His lips curved wider into a vicious smile.

“You’re . . . going to kill him? Your brother? And blame me for it?” Despite my anger at Wenzhi, my heart twisted at the thought.

“Half-brother,” he corrected me coldly, echoing Wenzhi’s own disdain at their kinship. “What’s the matter? Don’t you want to escape? Don’t you hate him? Isn’t that why you did all this?” His arm swept across the room.

Without waiting for my answer, he drew his sword and stalked toward Wenzhi.

Chaos erupted in my mind. I hated Wenzhi, I reminded myself. For all he had done, for all he planned to do. I loathed and despised him and wanted nothing more than to escape. Yet could I really stand by and let him get murdered without a chance to defend himself? He was only vulnerable because I had tricked him. His death would be on my conscience, as surely as though I had plunged the sword into him myself. Unbidden, memories flooded me—of when he had defended me against Governor Renyu, when he had borne the brunt of Xiangliu’s attack, the many times we had watched over and protected each other. Oh, how he had lied to and deceived me; we could never go back to what we once were. But neither could I pretend that everything had been erased between us. I hated him now because I had loved him then.

I moved in front of Prince Wenshuang, blocking his path. My fingers clutched the jade hilt of my sword so tightly, the rubies dug into my palm. “I can’t let you do this.”

His pupils were slits of yellow flame. “Perhaps it would be best if you didn’t survive after all.”

I lunged at him, my sword raised high. He slammed it away with his blade, before flying toward me. I spun aside, whirling to kick at him. He dodged, I missed. As my sword arced toward his chest, he ducked—too slow—my blade slicing his ear. As blood trickled down his neck, a snarl erupted from his throat. I dove at him again—the air thickening with his energy as a gleaming shield encased him now. My sword crashed into his barrier, my arm throbbing as I staggered from the rebound. Before I could recover, he seized my wrist, twisting it roughly as my weapon clattered to the floor.