Sacrifice (18 page)

Her ears were sharp, and she hadn’t heard the clink of shells from the main door in her reception hall. Master Bei had bypassed it somehow. Did he come through a secret door he had built to access her bedroom, or from a hole in the ground like the one in his unfurnished study? She began to tremble and drew her knees into her chest to try and quell it.

Had he finally come to consummate the marriage? Or to use her as the next meal for the demonic baby he kept?

Zhen Ni bit her lower lip hard, then heard the door slide closed again, making the pungent odor of smoke and fire less potent in her bedchamber. There were soft sounds of movement in her reception hall—nothing that would have woken her if she had been asleep. But her keen sense of hearing and heightened awareness from fear made it so it seemed as if someone was skulking about in this very bedchamber.

Easing her hand beneath her pillow, she reached for Nanny Bai’s sharp dagger, then slipped out of bed like a phantom. She had stabbed a demon before, and it had been hurt and bled like any mortal. There was no chance Zhen Ni could best Master Bei physically, but she could get at least one thrust of the knife in; if she were to die, she would die fighting.

She stood behind the lattice door carved with pairs of mandarin ducks and round peaches, signs of marital bliss and fertility. The entire grand manor seemed a mockery to her now—an elaborate prison and false facade. It was a sliver moon this evening, casting little light through the carvings of the lattice windows.

Her husband was like a hulking shadow in the middle of the hall, kneeling on the ground. A ball of bloodred fire floated before him as he crouched over the floor, mumbling in a low voice. Not the blue hellfire that Kai Sen had conjured. Master Bei began gesturing his arm wildly across the floor, and she realized that he must be writing. Red characters glowed on the ground with the movement of his fingertip, then dimmed. She couldn’t read the words and wished for the first time that she had been taught the Xian language fully, as her brothers had been.

Master Bei lifted his head, and she smothered her small gasp with a hand. His eyes glowed like the embers of hell, and sharp curved horns jutted from his brow, where those strange knots had been. The dim ball of fire didn’t provide enough light to see his features clearly, but she got the impression of a muzzle and razor-sharp teeth. He lifted his nose as a wolf might do, to sniff the air, and she saw how thick and powerful his neck was. He then picked up something that had been hidden behind a chair: a young lamb, fat and heavy. He held it as if it was as light as parchment. Although its legs and muzzle were bound with rope, she could see the lamb lived by its heaving stomach and flicking ears. The thing was terrified. With a sudden wrench, Master Bei twisted its head off in his bare hands, and she saw that his fingers ended in sharp talons. The lamb’s body made a snapping sound of sinews and bones, and her husband proceeded to dribble its blood on to the floor, still muttering low words.

He was casting some spell or enchantment. What evils was he inviting into her quarters, forcing upon her?

Glimpsing the lamb’s slack body, she wanted to retch. Zhen Ni scurried from the doorway, breath hitching in her chest. She hid in the far corner of the bedchamber, behind a large curved back chair, not caring if her husband looked in on her again and found her bed empty. She couldn’t return to it, like some unknowing creature about to be sacrificed. Zhen Ni gripped the dagger in her hand and pressed its sharp tip into the ground, ready to strike if Master Bei were to return.

Instead, the evening passed without further incident, and she almost cried with relief when the gray morning began to peek through her lattice windows. She finally crawled into the cold bed, hand thrust beneath her cushion, never letting go of the dagger, and fell into a fitful slumber.

Skybright

Skybright walked behind Stone, keeping in the middle of the stairs as best she could. The color of the steps blended with the blue skies and drifting clouds around them, so it felt as if she walked on air. She was scared of missing a step, the camouflage worked so well. If it weren’t for Stone’s straight back leading the way, she wouldn’t have had the nerve to descend into the empty skies by herself.

They wound their way down, neither speaking, and she could see nothing until the distant glint of the sea emerged below, its surface deep blue and appearing flat. She looked too long and became dizzy, squeezing her eyes shut, then stopping dead in her tracks.

“Skybright?” Stone asked with concern.

“I’m feeling woozy,” she whispered, shame creeping hot from her neck into her cheeks.

“It’s not that much farther. I promise,” he said. “Put your hand on my shoulder if it would help.”

She opened her eyes, and Stone was standing on the step below, facing her, and for a brief instant, it felt as if she were gazing into the face of a stranger. After being held captive with him as her sole companion, she knew Stone’s features better than her own. She had spent so much time scrutinizing his expressions, trying to gauge his moods, next thought, or impulse. Getting to know him better was her best chance of survival, her best chance for escape. But the young man who stood before her appeared barely a few months out of boyhood, tall and muscular, not like a warrior, but like a farmer. Someone who was used to physical labor day in and day out. Stone tilted his head, his expression open and guileless.

But she knew better than to fall for it. Mortal or not, Stone had lived more than two thousand years and was smarter than anyone she knew, if not skewed in his perceptions.

“Thank you, Stone,” she said.

He turned around, and she clasped her hand on his shoulder. The material of his tan tunic was not only threadbare; it felt coated in a layer of dust. But she was reassured as they continued down the stairway, sensing his muscles and bones glide beneath her fingers.

She would rather die before she would ever admit that he could be a comfort to her.

They entered a bank of rolling clouds after a few moments, cool and smelling of the sea. It became so opaque that she lost sight of Stone entirely, her arm stretched out into white wisps. The next step felt different, like earth instead of the unyielding blue stone stairs, and she took another step downward but tripped as the ground had leveled.

Stone caught her, and she stayed within his embrace for a moment, disoriented, breathing in his new scent: tilled soil mingled with lemon. He was the one to step away from her, saying in a strange voice, “We’re here.”

Skybright shook herself mentally, trying to be more alert after all the impossibilities she had witnessed. She glanced toward him first to gauge the change in his voice. Stone’s tanned face wasn’t impassive as before; instead, he appeared uncomfortable. Perhaps a little stunned.

Her eyes swept their surroundings. The clouds had magically lifted, and they were standing in a narrow alleyway, tall mud-colored walls rising on both sides. “Where are we?” she asked.

“Not where I expected.” He cleared his throat. “This isn’t the location I had focused in my mind when we were descending from The Mountain of Heavenly Peace.”

Understanding dawned. So this was why he appeared so discomfited. She turned in a full circle, grinning. “I know where we are.”

“What?”

“We’re in Chang He.” She easily recognized the narrow alleyway now. “Right by the Yuan manor.”

“Impossible—”

“It was the destination
I
had in mind. You said—”

“The magic defers to the most powerful …” Stone paused, turning pale. “Goddess.” He rubbed his face with his hands. “It really is true then. She’s stripped me of everything.”

“You did conjure water and other things,” she said. Skybright remembered the duck flapping indignantly away from them but thought it better not to mention it.

Stone’s laugh was abrupt and bitter. “True. I’m like a roadside magician, manifesting random and useless objects for passersby’s entertainment. I should carry a cup to collect coin.” He let out a string of archaic curses, fast and furious, something about a mule and a sack of rocks in the mud, then clamped his mouth shut. “I hadn’t realized I had fallen so low. Skybright …”

She had been craning her neck, trying to see if she could hear anything from within Yuan manor but turned at the quiet urgency of Stone’s voice.

“You have to help me close the breach.” He paused. “Please?”

“That’s your task and problem, Stone. I’m no longer bound to you. And I certainly don’t owe you anything.” She picked up her skirt and began walking away from the town toward the woods. Being surrounded by trees always cleared her mind, calmed her. She didn’t know if she had enough nerve to face Zhen Ni so soon. She knew her old mistress had felt betrayed by her secret, but what of Kai Sen? Could he be by the creek now, jumping across rocks, as he had shown her once? Remembering him brought a tightness to her chest. She’d heard enough tales of star-crossed lovers but was never fortunate enough to indulge in the notion of happy endings.

Stone followed easily with his long stride, interrupting her thoughts. “I know. But I’m begging you. This breach poses a threat to all mortals.”

She knew he spoke truth. But she didn’t want to accompany him any longer—constantly fighting her attraction, annoyed with herself that she was so drawn to him, angry that he had snatched her away from her life. “You still have some magical ability,” she said. “Take care of it yourself.”

He wasn’t giving up so soon, still beside her when she caught a glimpse of the tree line and ran toward it, her heart feeling full. The tang of pine needles filled her senses. She stopped abruptly near the forest edge. She hadn’t been ready to face Zhen Ni, too afraid her former mistress would reject her after all these months apart or reject her for hiding the fact that she was half-demonic. But she couldn’t bring herself to run to Kai Sen, either. For what? She had only ever been a distraction, a forbidden romance.

She turned on her heel to walk toward the town center. Stone changed direction with her, as stubborn as a goat. “Please, Skybright. You can go and do whatever you’d like after we close the breach. I know I have no hold over you. But I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t need your help.”

“I’m going to find something to eat,” she replied. “How long do you plan on following me like a lost dog?”

“Until you change your mind?” He grinned, his uncertainty more charming than he realized. Thank the goddess. “Here,” he said gallantly and whisked an apple out of thin air.

She laughed despite herself and took it. “I’ll need more than an apple.”

Stone nodded and in the next instant held a spade in his hand. She gave him a questioning look. “It was the first thing that came to mind when I wanted to conjure a weapon.” He let out an incredulous laugh. “I guess I’m a farm boy after all.” Setting the spade down on the side of the empty dirt road, his expression became pensive. Stone uttered another short incantation, and a saber manifested in his hand, its sharp edge gleaming in the sunlight. He sheathed the weapon at his waist, after conjuring a scabbard and sword belt. “I’d probably do better with the spade,” he said with sarcastic amusement.

She imagined that Stone was realizing all that he had lost just as she had at hell’s breach, when he had taken her away from everything she knew.