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It was what Wugang had said to me before, when we stood in this very place.

You are wrong, I told him in the silence of my mind. Love is what gives me the strength to do this. To stop you.

Never had I so much to lose, yet so much to fight for. My eyes rolled up to meet Wugang’s. When had he drawn so close? I fought down the bile that crowded my throat, the dread that stiffened my limbs. My head seared like it was crammed with hot coals, tendrils of heat from the Sacred Flame Feather already surging free from its binds. Now was the time, before Wugang sensed it, before he struck—for what if he rendered me unconsciousness?

With a wrench, I loosened the enchantments around the feather, channeling my energy to pierce its shaft, crushing it into glittering shards. My magic coursed over each fragment, forming a thin shield to protect me from the feather’s power—and it was this alone that kept me alive. Even through the barrier, the brutal heat seeped into my veins until my blood blazed like liquid flame. Sweat dripped down my brow and neck, my silk robe sticking to my back. I gasped, sucking in a breath of cool air that yielded a pinprick of relief as I fought the urge to crumple. A little longer, I urged myself, struggling to hold steady. Time was running out. I needed Wugang to strike soon, to release the power dammed within me, before it consumed me whole. Still, he waited, a triumphant smile on his face as though savoring the moment … even as I burned within.

I would not wait for him; I would move the pieces on the board instead of waiting to be played. “It’s not too late to reconsider,” I told Wugang, my eyes wide and innocent. “If you return the emperor’s throne, if you beg for mercy, he might forgive you.” My voice was gentle, my words needle-sharp.

Wugang’s lips peeled into a feral snarl. A swish through the air and his axe descended, carving a clean slash along my arm, one after the next. Pain seared, silken smooth. Blood spilled from my torn flesh, speckled with the gold of the feather’s power—seething hot, with the tang of iron and char. Thin trails ran down my arms, falling between the undulating roots, sinking into the darkening earth. With each drop of my blood, another fleck of the feather’s power slid from my body—such relief, short lived though it was. For the heat seeped into the very thing I was tied to, the laurel’s bark already warming against my body.

A hoarse gasp broke from me as my scorched blood coursed through my veins. Heat radiated from my pores, glazing my skin as the cords that bound me dissolved. Freedom—yet I barely sensed it, consumed by unfathomable agony. The acrid tang of smoke choked my lungs, a sizzling and crackling crowding my ears. Just the thinnest of threads held me whole, the enchantment that tethered me to Wenzhi. I grasped at it like a drowning person, clinging to my sole solace from this nightmare as my blood continued to flow into the laurel’s roots. Any moment now, it would catch fire.

As would I.

Wugang’s head was tilted up to the branches, his face creased into a frown. When my mother’s blood had scattered over the laurel before, its seeds had fallen like ripe plums shaken down. Perhaps he thought it a delay or a miscalculation on his part that the blood of the Moon Goddess had not yielded the desired harvest.

The laurel shuddered, its bark smoked and charred. Yet its glowing sap was already spreading across, healing itself. Despair raged. Why had it not been destroyed? Why was it not enough? And it struck me then—the power that shielded me from the feather’s devastation, shielded the laurel too. I would fail because I was still trying to protect myself, because I was afraid.

Yet this was not the way. If I failed, Wugang would kill me along with everyone I loved. There was no real choice, just as when my father had faced the sunbirds—though it was one that had to be made nonetheless.

I pressed my arms tighter around the laurel, squeezing my eyes shut. Not giving myself a moment to ponder as I reached inward, ripping away the barriers that guarded me, undoing the shields over the feather fragments—all that kept me whole. As the last one broke, heat erupted throughout my body—a scorching summer, a raging blaze. I was … undone. The thread tethering me to Wenzhi snapped, his enchantment unraveling as my skin stung and stretched, pain shuddering through my limbs. My blood gushed forth, spilling through the cuts on my arms, and bearing with it the last of the Sacred Flame Feather’s raw power—seeping into the roots of the laurel. Would it be enough?

The blazing heat in my body subsided, leaving nothing but a bone-deep weariness. I could not move. My skin was drenched with sweat, and yet I shivered. Smoke clung to my breath, a powdery bitterness coating my tongue as though I had chewed ash. A miracle that I breathed at all, that this wisp of life remained … frail and fleeting though it was.

My eyes flew open, blinking against the glare. All was curved where it should be straight, shuddering when it should be still, until everything appeared slick with flame. Deep cracks fractured the laurel’s silvery bark, from which smoke and sap gurgled forth—no longer bright gold but a coppery-red, as though churned with my blood. With a whoosh, its pale branches caught fire like a flaming crown.

“No!” Wugang’s roar was a far cry from his usual calm.

Nothing but silence greeted his outburst. His soldiers faced him, awaiting his command. Obedient. Alert. Unfeeling. Fear did not clutch their hearts—nor did loyalty, love, or honor. Such things Wugang had scoffed at, derided and scorned. Such things that might work wonders in times of desperate need.

A grinding wrenched the air as the cracks swelled across the laurel’s trunk, gaping wider, deeper—a moment before it broke apart. The glittering seeds above morphed into lumps of blackened coal, shriveling to ash that drifted with the wind like clouds of soot.

Wugang’s soldiers stilled. The light faded from their eyes, winking out until just the hollows remained. Clear liquid ran down in rivulets from their faces, across their necks, like ice thawing beneath the sun. Chunks of their limbs broke off with a clink, coming apart like ill-made works of clay. As they crumbled to the ground, gold dust coiled from their wracked forms, spiraling into the air. A rustling sprang up like a great sigh. Was there regret in it? Relief? How I prayed these spirits would regain their stolen peace. The shimmering specks vanished then, leaving nothing but an unearthly silence and a charred stump where the laurel had once towered, surrounded by dark swaths of damp earth.

It was over … Wugang’s army destroyed. This terrible devastation, this grave threat to our existence had ended. I inhaled a shaking breath, closing my eyes. Such terror had reigned over my mind and sunken my heart during these endless days—it was hard to believe it was no more. A sweet lightness swept through me, a moment’s respite from the pain. The realms would be safe, along with my loved ones. The battle by the Cloud Wall would have ended abruptly, with Wugang’s soldiers and monsters gone. Not dead, for they had never truly been alive.

Come dawn, the sun would rise unhindered over the Immortal Realm.

I would not see it.

Wugang loomed above me, his face crimson with rage, his aura thick with murderous fury. My fingers lifted to my face, brushing the cleft in my chin, the rounded curve of my cheek. I was myself again.

“How is this possible? Her aura, her voice—” Wugang’s grip tightened around the hilt of his axe. He would waste little time uttering pointless words of rage. Death was the only atonement for my offenses.

I met his gaze without fear; I was already hollowed through, what else could he do to me? The Sacred Flame Feather had burned me up, devoured every bit of my strength. It was a mercy I was not already dead, though eternal darkness was beckoning. What was left was just skin stretched over bones, and wilted breath in my lungs. Was this how Ping’er and Prince Yanming had felt? It was not as terrible as I had dreaded, this numbing fatigue that stole over me, the weight pressing over my limbs like a shroud of stone—yet a lightness fluttering within like I was almost free …

“Xingyin.”

My mother’s voice yanked me from my fevered daze. When had they arrived? I glanced up, my eyes colliding with hers. Such pain in them, such terror—as black as the abyss that yawned before me. Beside her was my father, Wenzhi and Liwei, their cloud soaring faster than the wind and yet … too late.

I struggled to raise myself up, leaning upon an elbow. My breaths came quick and shallow, the shadow of Wugang’s axe dark on my face. There was nothing left in me to evade or block the blow that would surely fall. Drawing a deep breath, the crisp air filled my lungs, laced with the sweetness of osmanthus. Home at last, my mind whispered.

Wugang’s axe arced high. No matter what he had lost, vengeance would be his. He was a master at exacting it in full. I closed my eyes, unable to bear the terror flashing across the faces of my loved ones. If they called my name again, I did not hear it. A shiver rippled through my flesh. How strange to be cold when moments before I had burned. Something whistled, hurtling toward me. I braced for pain—yet it plunged past my head, rending a stunned gasp from above. My eyes flew open to find an arrow of Sky-fire embedded into Wugang’s chest. His mouth hung open, gaping like a fish torn from the waters—as another arrow hurtled into the center of his forehead, light streaking across his face, down his neck, trailing along the very scars on his palms. He staggered back a step, and then another. A gust of air slipped from his lips, carrying a woman’s name in a tortured breath. His wife? Did he love her still? My heart flinched at the thought. He had been cruel, yet most cruel to himself.

Wugang slumped to his knees, falling upon the grass. His body shuddered violently, his eyes blinking at a frantic pace, before widening and going still, the color draining from his flesh until he was as pale as the petals beneath him. Death had claimed him at last—the mortal who had clawed his way to immortality, overthrown the Celestial Emperor, and reshaped the Immortal Realm.

There was no pity in my heart for him, nor did triumph sing through my veins that Ping’er and Prince Yanming were avenged. There was nothing left except this void within me, this hollow of winter. My legs gave way as I collapsed into the soft embrace of the earth. Footsteps pounded toward me—my parents, Liwei, and Wenzhi racing my way. A torment and a joy to have them close.