Sacrifice (26 page)

“My soft petal.” Zhen Ni pressed her lips against Blossom’s brow. The child smelled like honey, not of offal, blood, and raw meat. “But did you get enough to eat? Mama will have Cook slaughter a whole cow for you, if you desire.”

The little girl touched Zhen Ni’s face and stared into her eyes. Her perfect skin might as well have been wrought from porcelain, painted with subtle pink blooms on each cheek by a master artisan. “Thank you, Mama. I am satisfied for now.”

Despite the joyful haze Zhen Ni floated in, the hairs on her arms stood on end, as if a chilling breeze had swept through the room. A visceral warning. “Rose, ask Pei to have a whole carcass butchered and ready from now on.” Blossom could never go hungry. Zhen Ni would keep her satisfied with as much raw beef or pork as she desired. It was better than … the alternative.

“Yes, lady.” The young handmaid bowed.

She set Blossom onto the ground. “You’ll go with Rose and take an afternoon nap, petal?”

Blossom gazed up at her. Her eyes were amber—a light color Zhen Ni had never seen before—and seemed to glow. “I don’t need sleep, Mama.” She rubbed her stomach. “Only to eat.”

“Well you go on and go play then. Rose will keep you company.” Zhen Ni reached over and softly tweaked the little girl’s button nose. “I’ll come and see you soon, all right?”

Blossom nodded, her braids bouncing.

“But you have to be good, petal. You’ll behave?”

“Yes, Mama!” She toddled over to Rose who stretched out her hand indulgently, a wide smile on the handmaid’s face, and the two disappeared down the steps through the resplendent courtyard.

All the warm feelings that Blossom had brought slipped away from Zhen Ni like water from a cracked vase. It was just mid-afternoon, but Zhen Ni felt frayed by a constant sense of anxiety and terror. And she had only been a bride to Master Bei for two days—how would she survive a lifetime?

Perhaps her husband didn’t plan on keeping her alive for very long.

She felt so alone again, helpless and frightened, but if she had to slam a cleaver between her husband’s bulging eyes to survive, she would. Even if she died trying.

Zhen Ni almost retreated to her grand quarters to crawl into the sumptuous bed and hide beneath the silk sheet, to cower and forget the world. But instead, she took to walking through the grand manor, familiarizing herself with its layout. She wandered the covered pathways that meandered from one magnificent courtyard to another. It was an unusually hot day in early spring, and Zhen Ni finally took shelter in a grand pagoda with a green tiled roof and red columns decorated with golden lotuses. Another tribute to her from her thoughtful husband, she thought wryly. She wished for some chilled tea, but had sent Oriole away, telling the handmaid not to trail her as she normally would. The air was fragrant with the sweet perfume of wisteria which wound its way around the railing of the pagoda, a few branches curling up its columns.

Zhen Ni sat in the cool shade and surveyed the courtyard. This one was planted with crabapple trees, their deep fuchsia blooms striking against the rockwork. A large oval pond was a short distance away, and she could see golden fish with sleek bodies darting beneath the water. Never in her life would she have imagined she’d live in a manor more opulent than her own family’s or be married to a husband who was as horrifying as her new home was beautiful.

“We need to speak, Wife,” Master Bei said from behind her, appearing out of nowhere.

She jumped off the bench, suppressing a scream. It was as if her thoughts had summoned him like a nightmare. “Husband,” she said, steadying her voice. This must be what a rabbit felt like trapped with a wolf.

He climbed the stone steps into the pagoda and sat across from her, then lifted a hand, indicating that she should sit back down. She did so, resting her hands in her lap, her palms damp against the silk fabric of her skirt.

“I wanted an obedient wife,” Master Bei said in that deep voice. “But my choices were limited. Despite my wealth, I have no family name, no pedigree.” He scratched his chin, thick with a black beard that had been mere shadow when she had seen him a few hours earlier. “So I had to make do with you.”

Zhen Ni bristled, despite her fear. Like
he
was such a catch? “I am obedient, Husband,” she said.

He barked something that might have been a laugh and turned his too large eyes to her. They glowed a deep red. Horns, lethally sharp, thick and misshapen like the roots of a tree, jutted out from his brow. “So obedient that you found my underground lair the first day as my wife, disturbing Blossom’s feasting?”

The scent of smoke and fire emanated from him.

She felt the blood drain from her face.

“Yes, my hounds told me everything.”

It was no use feigning innocence. “Those statues—”

“Loyal hellhounds. They serve as my eyes and ears.” His large hand darted out, the motion faster than she could see, and he gripped her forearm so hard her eyes teared. Talons had emerged where his thick yellow fingernails had been. “Don’t go where you’re not wanted again, Wife.”

He could snap her arm off by the elbow and tear her limb from its socket. She felt his strength in that grip and the power that hummed with his touch, even more frightening than brute force—ancient and unyielding. “Yes, Husband,” she said through gritted teeth, then wrenched her arm away.

Master Bei let go, indulging, or else she would have twisted her shoulder, she had little doubt. “Why me?” she whispered.

“As notoriously willful as you might be, you are still from a prominent, well-respected family. My ostentatious wealth will make humans avert one eye. A pretty young wife with your pedigree will make them avert the other.” The air shimmered around him, and he appeared human once again. “Play the role of good wife, and I will let you live.”

“To what end?” she asked.

“So we fit in. So my name becomes an established one, a trusted one,” he said. “You only need to raise Blossom as your own.”

“The demon child—”

“Demonic but with a mortal’s essence. Many women died in pregnancy before I was able to have Blossom.”

Zhen Ni’s stomach cramped, and she felt nauseated. “A woman gave birth to Blossom?”

“Yes. She died when Blossom ate her way out of her mother’s womb,” he said. “It is the way of things. But she is the perfect child that will help the demon uprising.”

She felt lightheaded and swallowed, her throat parched. Demons overtaking their world; this was what Master Bei was striving for. “Why a girl then?” she asked. “The men wield the power—they rule this kingdom. If you had a son, he could rise further …” The perfect boy might even become emperor, if he had enough fortune and audacity to challenge the throne.

He grinned, showing sharp yellow teeth, reminding her exactly of a wolf. “I’ve observed your people for centuries. Men wield the power, but it is power that other men covet. To be a man of high station in this kingdom is to be envied—a target. I needed someone to infiltrate this world and go unnoticed. Who do you think runs the daily routines of all households, of even the emperor’s palace?”

Zhen Ni thought of her mother, who made sure that the Yuan manor ran smoothly, managing dozens of people and overseeing every necessary task, big and small. Then there was Nightingale, who helped Lady Yuan organize the household and the myriad of jobs, and Nanny Bai, who had served as both nurse and doctor to them for over three decades, who had helped birth Zhen Ni into this world.

“The men might rule this kingdom, Wife, but the women run it,” he said. “Blossom will rise and have the emperor’s ear if I desire it. She will go unchallenged because she will be underestimated.”

It made twisted sense now. Beautiful women were seen as a commodity or a distraction, never a threat.

“Who can resist Blossom’s powers of charm and persuasion?” Master Bei asked. “Can you?”

He was goading her, because he already knew the answer.

“Be a good mother to Blossom.” He rose, towering over her. “You will help me and tell no one, otherwise you die. And everyone you love dies as well.”

Zhen Ni stared down at her hands clenching her thighs; she stayed silent.

“Let the girl feast on the human corpses. It helps her strengthen and grow.”

“I will take care of her,” she said, hating herself for not being able to challenge him. But she needed to stay alive if she wanted to thwart him.

“Good,” he growled out. “We understand each other then.”

He left without a glance back, taking the odor of smoke and fire with him.

It must be what hell smelled like.

Kai Sen

The morning dragged on intolerably for Kai Sen. Meditation was followed by a spare morning meal of plain steamed bread and hot soy milk, then an hour of forms. But he couldn’t even practice to release his pent-up emotions, being pulled aside by various people who worked for the monastery or monks who demanded his attention or sought his sympathy and commiseration. Kai Sen was trapped with both the chef and gardener, arguing over the menu for the coming week, when he saw Han stride down the covered corridor toward them. He flashed his friend the “get me out of this” signal that they’d used since childhood, a subtle jerk of the head to the right, and Han grabbed Kai Sen’s arm as he walked past them. “I need to speak with you on an urgent matter,” Han said.

“Of course. Yes, we need to take care of that urgent … thing, don’t we?” Kai Sen nodded to the chef and gardener. “I trust whatever you both decide.” The two older men, Lao Lu and Lao Chen, who had both worked in the monastery for over three decades, barely paused in their quarreling. Although unrelated, they considered each other brothers, and a day was not right until they took time to squabble over something trivial.

“My thanks, Han,” Kai Sen said under his breath as they walked away. “I saw myself ten years from now still trapped there, gray at the temples.”

“Gray hairs by the time you’re twenty-eight?” Han laughed.

“With the way things are going—”

Han punched him in the arm, making him wince. Kai Sen didn’t wince out of practice, but his friend punched hard. “Come. I’m sad over losing Abbot Wu too, but
you
are our fearless leader now. It’s a tremendous honor.”

Kai Sen flicked a glance toward his friend. He loved Han like family. Abbot Wu had been a father figure to him at times, but he had never thought of him like a real father. Han, however, Han was like a real brother. Was he jealous that Kai Sen had been chosen by the abbot as his successor? “You know by this time, I’d have sneaked out of the monastery already—”

“Wandering the forest, jumping across streams, chasing after girls—”

Kai Sen snorted, then thought of Skybright, and the smile fell from his face.

“I know, Kai Sen. You’d be running wild.”

“I’m trapped here now, Han.” He stopped near an alcove tucked in the corner, where the covered walkways paved in limestone met. It offered an expansive view of the monastery’s square, showing monks sparring in pairs. The deep green of the giant cypress trees dotting the square was a striking contrast against the pale blue sky. It was hard to believe that less than a day ago this square had been overrun by monstrosities and had been slick with the blood of their brothers. Or that by night time, thick smoke bellowed into the air as their corpses burned. “I’d give up this role to you if I could,” Kai Sen said.