Page 27
“Why are you going to the Jade Palace?” he asked. “You can’t get in; they will sense you at once.”
“What do you mean?” My tone was guarded.
“The wards around the palace have been altered tonight.” He paused, adding, “I heard of Minister Ruibing’s visit. He was a pompous fool from what I recall. What did the minister want?”
“How do you—”
“I make it my point to know these things,” he interjected. “The defenses of the Celestial Kingdom. Your well-being.”
The tips of my ears burned. I ignored his earlier question, asking, “Are you telling the truth about the wards?”
His eyes thinned in a familiar look of exasperation. “If you don’t believe me, by all means go ahead. You will be stopped before you get a foot through the gates.” He cocked his head to one side. “I think I prefer it that way, putting an end to your scheme. Attempted entry would be a far lighter offense than whatever you have planned.”
“I can’t be caught. I’m not allowed to leave the moon.” I clamped my mouth shut, regretting my words. If I was discovered defying the emperor’s edict, it would endanger us tenfold. And if I attempted to break the wards, that might sound an alarm, summoning a trail of suspicious soldiers upon my heels.
Wenzhi lowered himself into a mocking bow. “Perhaps I might be of service. I have some experience getting into places I’m not supposed to.”
I stared at him. “Why would you help me?”
“As I told you, I wish to make amends. I also prefer that you remain alive and not locked away in some Celestial prison. It would be much harder to extricate you then.” He added with emphasis, “You would owe me nothing. Think of this as recompense for my wrongs.”
“Nothing you do will ever make up for your wrongs,” I said scathingly.
“Part recompense, then,” he amended, even as an unreadable expression flashed across his face.
I did not like accepting favors from him, nor did I trust him enough to share my plan. Yet I would not risk discovery upon a point of pride; I would not gamble with our lives.
“Help me get into the palace, but you cannot follow me,” I told him.
“Will you tell me what you’re doing?”
I smiled brightly. “No.”
He released a sigh. “What do you want me to do?”
“Break the wards around the Western Gate.” Heat glazed my face at my hypocrisy. I had railed at him for such treachery before, and now I was enlisting his aid to do the same.
“Unless you possess an invading army, the palace wards can’t be tampered with from outside,” he told me.
I had not known this. My assignments in the Celestial Army had always taken me beyond the Jade Palace; I had never guarded its walls.
“Could you draw the guards away from the gate?” I asked. “A diversion to distract them?”
“I would prefer a harder task.” When I did not reply, he inclined his head. “As you wish.”
“Thank you.” Gratitude for him sat uneasily within me.
“If you are not out by sunrise, I will come for you.” His eyes shone silver bright.
“I don’t need your help to get out,” I said curtly.
“Yet you need it to get in.” He raised a hand, stalling my retort. “I trust in your abilities, but sometimes luck can get in the way.” Without another word, he returned to his cloud, taking flight into the night.
Recalling Tao’s warning to mask myself, I wrapped a piece of black cloth across my nose, knotting it at the back of my head. Far from an impenetrable disguise, but I was not adept enough to create an enchantment over my form, much less sustain it. And I had learned not to scorn the simplest disguises, for they were often the most easily overlooked.
A stream of energy coursed through the air, powerful and fierce. Shouts erupted from ahead, a cluster of immortal auras rushing away, drawn to the commotion. Wenzhi had struck the gates with ruthless efficiency. My insides wound tight as I plunged through the unseen barriers, instinctively recoiling from the anticipated discomfort. Yet there was just a coolness grazing my skin like a drizzle of rain—and then I was over the walls, back in the Jade Palace.
No clouds climbed toward me in pursuit as I soared across the lush gardens that divided the Outer Court from the Inner Court, flowers and trees blotting the landscape like spilled ink. A faint rumbling curled through my ears, that rhythmic rush which had soothed me to sleep those countless nights before. I glided lower, inhaling the sweetness of jasmine and wisteria, for a moment lost in the warm echoes of remembered joy. Was Liwei there? Was he safe? I longed to search for him, yet any attempt to do so might plunge us into greater danger, casting more suspicion over him. This was not the time to indulge reckless impulses. The empress would look out for him, and no matter what, he was still the emperor’s son.
