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Her eyes pinched in speculation as she stared at my bow. “A few rules. You cannot draw a weapon or use your magic.”

I shook my head. “A weapon must be allowed.”

“Do you think I don’t know what you carry?” As she spoke, an unseen force ripped my bow from my back, hurling it across the ground. Another, crafted of bamboo, appeared before me, alongside a quiver of wooden arrows.

Little wonder that she had been so close to the Celestial Empress. Their natures were hard and unyielding, and they both drove an unfair bargain.

“Is this the justice of the great Sun Goddess?” I challenged. “A mortal weapon is of no use against the phoenix.”

Lady Xihe stiffened as she raised her hand. Light streaked across the bow and arrows, their tips gleaming brighter. I would have preferred the Jade Dragon Bow, but this was the atonement the goddess demanded—and a part of me whispered that she could have asked for more.

“I must be allowed to shield myself.” I did not ask, speaking it as a fact.

“Very well,” she agreed icily, already raising her whip once more.

I bent to snatch up the bow. It was light in my hands, an inadequate weapon. “What happens if I lose?”

“You die.” A mirthless smile spread across her lips. “There is a reason I am not fighting you, why I needed your consent. No court in the Immortal Realm will find fault with me, and your kin will have no cause to seek vengeance upon your death.”

The assured way she spoke stung. “If I win, this ends here. You will not seek further vengeance against my family.”

A mirthless smile curled on her lips. “If you win.”

I grasped my magic, weaving it over Wenzhi’s shield, glad for his foresight and that he could not interfere. He would not have stood idly by in this battle, a thought that both eased and tightened the tension coiled within me.

The goddess’s whip lashed the air, flames crackling forth. The phoenix reared up obediently, stretching its wings wide as it dove toward me. Scarlet tongues of fire erupted from its beak, searing through my shield. I darted back, evading the phoenix’s attack, as my fingers instinctively plucked the bowstring—unfamiliar and stiff. An arrow hurtled toward the phoenix, which shrieked as it flew aside. Swiftly, I released another, hurtling into its side, but the creature tore the shaft away as though it were a splinter. The phoenix plunged forward once more, pecking wildly at my barrier. Its power crashed against mine, pummeling my shield, its claws puncturing through to rake my arm. As a deep gash split my flesh, a gasp burst from my throat. I shoved the creature aside, the needle-like barbs on its feathers slicing my palm.

The phoenix flew at me again, the tip of its beak sinking into my shoulder, burying silk into flesh. Such fiery agony engulfed me as I stumbled back, shooting an arrow into its wing. The creature barely flinched as it soared toward me again, its claws curved like sickles. A slender tongue slithered from its beak, stained with the same dark shade as the mulberries, the sweetness of its breath smoked with char. As it ruffled its feathers, flames streaked toward me, my body still stinging from the violence of its attack—

I ran, my feet pounding over the grass. My weapon was of no use, I needed time to form a plan. Gnarled branches loomed before me as I ducked, weaving my way between the trees. As my shoe caught over a raised root, I stumbled, catching my balance. The heat from the phoenix suffused the air as the creature soared above. Was it toying with me? I was an easy target, barreling through the forest, my steps thudding against the ground. Diving deeper into a thicket of trees, I stretched my arms wide to slap the branches, intentionally rustling their leaves. As the phoenix swung around, drawing nearer—I crawled away stealthily in the other direction. Out of the creature’s sight, I scrambled up a mulberry tree, scraping my palms against the rough bark. My heart raced as I crouched within the shelter of the twisted branches.

Above, the phoenix shrieked as it circled the grove, searching for me. My sleeve was torn where the phoenix had clawed it. The cords around my wrist had come undone, hanging loose. I ripped them free, tucking them into my sash. Climbing upon a thick branch, I flattened myself against the trunk to keep out of sight. Another cry rent the air, the phoenix, impatient for blood. How I wished I could summon a gale to sweep the creature away, but I was bound by Lady Xihe’s terms—onerous though they were.

I breathed deeply, catching the sweetness threaded through the air. Something surfaced in my mind—that of the phoenix’s breath, the stains on its tongue … the mulberries, did it like their taste? Slinging my bow upon my back, I bent down to grasp handfuls from the tree, ripe and sticky, as I piled them onto the branch in stacks of ruby, rich currant, and black. As I crushed a handful along the branch, rubbing their syrupy juice into the wood, the fragrance thickened, cloyingly sweet and heady. The phoenix’s cry grew louder, wind coursing through the air as its wings flapped closer. Did it smell the mulberries? I moved back into the thicket of branches, an arrow nocked to my bowstring—my body stiff with terror, my fingers like ice.

The phoenix approached my tree, its eyes fixed upon the berries, it’s beak parted eagerly. My arrows had little chance of penetrating its body, but what of its tender mouth? The softness of its throat, the gateway to its skull? Bile crowded the back of my throat, but I swallowed hard. Oh, I did not want to do this, but I did not want to die.

I sprang forward, my arrow aimed at the dark hollow where the creature’s beak parted, at the scarlet throat beyond. A perfect shot. My fingers clenched harder, emotions roiling within—fear mingled with revulsion and anger, that we had been forced into this confrontation that neither of us wanted. The phoenix had done no wrong. It was a victim of Lady Xihe’s misery, merely obeying her command. And fool that I might be, I lowered the bow. An enraged screech erupted from the phoenix, its eyes glinting with murderous intent as it lunged at me.

I dropped down to evade its attack, clasping the branch tightly as I sprang off to dangle below. The phoenix burst through where I had stood a moment before, then circled around to soar toward me once more. My nails dug into the rough bark as I swung myself along the branch, bracing for the phoenix’s inevitable return. I was shaking, my arms burning from the strain of my weight. As the phoenix shot forward, now just beneath my feet, I let go—

Falling through the emptiness, the air rushed against my body as I slammed against the phoenix’s back. Pain tore through me, of scorching heat—the creature’s feathers piercing my flesh like a nest of pins. Grasping my magic, I wove a stronger shield, forcing my mind to clear as the phoenix bucked wildly beneath. I clung harder, its barbs scraping my skin, searing even through my barrier. Swiftly, I snatched the cords from my sash, looping them around the phoenix’s neck, knotting them to form a crude harness. I yanked it, just as I had seen Lady Xihe do when we followed her, the creature shrieking as it dove through the air at a blinding pace. The wind surged against my face—trees and clouds blurring as they melded together, the phoenix spiraling in tighter circles, frantic with rage. I clung fast, clenching my thighs around its body, gripping the reins as I uttered soothing words and entreaties until at last its pace gentled, the heat subsiding from its body.

Only then did I loosen my hold. The phoenix circled once around the grove before obediently flying back to where Lady Xihe waited, the wind chime stirred into a haunting melody.

“It lives. You did not win,” she snarled.

As though sensing her displeasure, the phoenix’s head drooped, its wings trailing on the ground.

“You did not say I had to kill it,” I countered, sliding down from its back. “It would be a needless waste of life when it was merely obeying your command.”

The goddess’s knuckles whitened around the hilt of her whip, the flames surging brighter as though channeling her wrath. “How dare you pretend to care for another’s life? You, the daughter of that butcher Houyi.”

“Do not insult my father.” My voice came low and furious. “I kept my word; I defeated your champion. It is you, trying to break yours.” In truth the terms had not been fully laid out, each of us interpreting them to suit our ends.

As Lady Xihe raised her arm, her whip blazing—I summoned the Jade Dragon Bow, flying up from the ground into my grasp. Yet I did not draw it. I did not want to hurt her, I never had.

But I would defend myself.