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The swarm plunged toward us. I grabbed Tao’s arm, racing away, knocking the mahogany table onto its side as we crouched behind it, rolling it to a corner of the room. The dragonflies slammed into the other side, some of their wings wedged into the table—the pointed tip of one already splintering the wood. My throat constricted, my stomach churning violently.

I grabbed a brass urn enameled with yellow chrysanthemums from a shelf, shoving it at Tao. “We must catch them.”

His hands shook as he took it. “What? Why?” he asked in an anguished tone.

“We can’t use magic. They can’t be killed. If you have another idea, I would welcome it,” I said fervently. “I’ll catch, you trap them. Keep the lid shut at all times.”

I shook free the binds around my wrists, grateful for Liwei’s transformation of them—those creatures would slice through silk in a blink. The cords sprang into the air, weaving into a small net upon my command. Without a pause, I grabbed the net and swung it at the dragonflies. Three caught in the weave, struggling wildly, the rest swerving aside before hurtling toward me once more. I dipped back low, yet their wings scraped my neck and cheeks. My wounds seared like fire, my heart thudding as I emptied the net into the urn, shaking it roughly to dislodge the creatures. As the last one fell in, Tao slammed the lid over the opening, his hold steady though his face was gray.

It was a frantic dance, my net spinning through the air to ensnare the dragonflies, then releasing them into the urn. Once, Tao was too slow—a cluster of them darting out that we had to catch all over again. Another slipped through my grasp, its wing slicing Tao’s ear.

“I’m sorry,” I gasped as blood trickled down his neck. The whirring grew louder as though the dragonflies thrived on its hot scent.

“Don’t miss again,” he said faintly.

Finally, the dragonflies were all trapped, their wings scraping against the brass, an eerie, grating sound that tore at my nerves. Tao leaned over the urn, his arms wrapped tight around the lid. Pulling a cord free from the net, I wound it around the vessel, strapping it shut. Once the knots were secure, I shoved the urn away, where it rattled before falling silent.

Tao sank down beside me, trembling as he wiped the blood from his ear. “I’m never doing that again.”

Ignoring the heaviness in my limbs, I tugged his sleeve. “Come, we must go.”

Rising to our feet, we stumbled to the lacquered box on the shelf. Each peony petal was perfectly formed, curling slightly around the edges. Tao picked it up, a mirror image on both sides. Holding it firmly between his palms, he twisted it apart. The petals quivered, then unfurled to reveal a topaz-studded core. Something clicked, a crack streaking all around like an apricot wrenched into halves. As the scent of honeyed peaches sprang into the air—an intoxicating sweetness—my mouth watered with a sudden craving.

Tao peered into the box, his breath quickening.

“Are the elixirs there?” I asked eagerly.

“Yes.” His head swung up as he took in the wreckage of the room. “Best to clean up after ourselves.”

I moved swiftly around the room, rolling the table back to its original position, piling the books and scrolls upon it once more. Then I straightened the shelves, finally shoving the shards of broken ornaments to a dark corner of the room. Far from perfect, but hopefully enough to escape a cursory inspection.

“Do you have them?” I asked Tao.

He nodded as he replaced the box on the shelf. As we moved toward the door, light rippled across the stone. Panic clawed me as Tao and I darted behind the nearest shelf, crouching amid the miniature trees, the urn just beside us.

The panel vanished. Two soldiers entered, broad-shouldered and tall. Was this a routine visit, or had someone heard us? The soldiers paused, one slanting his head back like he was listening for something. I drew a shaking breath, the cloth quivering over my mouth as my grip tightened around the hilt of my sword. A loud rattle jarred the stillness, the urn shuddering upon the ground. At once the man swung toward it, his hand locked around his spear.

My limbs froze, yet I shook myself from the stupor. Lunging for the urn, I snatched it up and ripped away the cords—tearing its lid free and hurling its contents at the guards. The dragonflies shot out, whirring louder as though enraged. The soldiers’ faces paled, yet they were well trained as their arms flew up, their spears carving the air with rhythmic blows—one of them calling for reinforcements. As the dragonflies fractured—some already re-forming—more guards raced into the room, crowding the entrance. The creatures plunged toward them, stinging their faces and necks. Swollen bumps pushed through their skin, a reddish violet hue, as the soldiers gasped in pain. Tao and I raced toward the door just as a solider leapt forward to block our path, swinging his sword at my head. I slashed at him feverishly, driving him back. We were running out of time. Soon the soldiers would overwhelm the dragonflies, they would stop us … the air already stirring with the beginnings of a spell.

Gripping the hilt of my blade with both hands, I flung it up to meet the soldier’s blow—my arm throbbing as I shoved his weapon away. He staggered back, weaving to catch his balance, his sword arcing toward me once more. I twisted aside, his blade sliding across the air where my chest had been. Crouching lower, I kicked at him, my foot colliding with his stomach. He gasped even as he dove forward to grab at my face covering. I darted out of reach, dragging my blade across his arm, slicing his flesh. Blood gushed out, a cry wrung from his throat—the whirring from the dragonflies escalating into a frenzied pitch.

My energy surged, summoning a gale to knock him aside—no need for subterfuge or caution now. At least our faces were still concealed; we had a chance of escaping unscathed, though the odds were rapidly diminishing.

“More soldiers are coming!” Tao yelled.

We bolted from the chamber, sprinting across the grassy lawn. Magic flowed from my hands, calling down a cloud as we raced onward in a jagged path to evade the soldiers. As we scrambled upon our cloud, an ominous whistling sliced the air. Tao and I ducked low, holding our breath as arrows hurtled over us. Sweat dripped from my brow, my limbs ached—yet I dared not pause, channeling more energy into the wind that swept us upward in a twisting route to throw off any pursuers.

We soared in silence for a long while, our eyes searching for any sign of danger. Only once the luminous glow of the moon lit a path through the night did I tug away the covering from my face. It had seemed a foolish idea before, but I was grateful for it. If someone had recognized me … I shivered at the thought.

Tao’s arms were wrapped around his body. “We were lucky. Beyond lucky, to have escaped.”

I nodded, inspecting the cuts from the dragonflies crisscrossing my skin in a bloodied web. Tao, beside me, nursed a deep gash across his arm, blood still dripping from his ear.

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

“No.” There was a slight tremor in his voice.

“Let me imagine your wound,” I offered, wondering if it went deeper than it appeared.