Immortal

24

The entrance of my home was abandoned, the doors swinging ajar. Frost glazed the wood like rivulets of salt that crept over the metal grates.

“Where are the guards?”

It was hard to keep calm, my nails raking my palms.

Zhangwei pulled me to a grove of trees, his tense expression sending a spike of fear through me. “The Wuxin. They’re here.”

The words sank in like a curse. How quiet it had grown, the chill sharpening like a scythe carving the air. Translucent forms appeared in the main courtyard, just beyond the entrance—twelve or more, their flesh no more substantial than breath fogged against porcelain. I’d expected monsters with fangs and claws, scales and wings. Yet these wraithlike creatures seemed fragile, likely to dissipate if one blew upon them. I was not stupid enough to imagine them weak, not when the God of War braced at their approach.

With each moment, their bodies solidified more, as though a painter had begun filling in the lines of their work. Were they feeding on the fear they roused? Or was this form how they’d slipped through the gateway? Their robes flowed in shades of gray, a bronze bell the size of a loquat dangling from their waists, eerily silent as though hollow within.

As the Wuxin took shape, they began to look like the immortals—ageless, without blemish—yet their hair was a shining white, draping their shoulders like pale shawls. Some were fair and others dark, yet all their eyes were ringed with copper. They crossed the courtyard, moving with swift purpose, heading deeper into my home. Dozens of Winged Devils trailed behind them, their claws gleaming, a cloying fragrance of spoiled fruit wafting in the air—they were working together.

Zhangwei and I remained still until they’d gone. It was dark now but for the curve of the moon, casting our surroundings into ash. I hugged myself, trying to banish my dread, the heaviness stealing over me. This was a hopeless struggle against so powerful an enemy. We were doomed. But I shook my head, reminding myself that the Wuxin leeched one’s strength and hope. They would not take mine.

“Don’t let your mind wander.”

Zhangwei brushed a light finger across my forehead, a shimmering heat sliding into me. “This will help protect you from their influence, but you must also guard your emotions. The Wuxin draw your misery like smoke winding to the skies. The more you yield, the worse you’ll suffer, falling deeper into their clutches.”

“How did they change their appearances?” I asked.

“Their natural forms are those we saw in the beginning, akin to spirits. Once they gain strength, they gain substance.”

I shuddered. “I thought they were sealed away in the Netherworld.”

“They are,”

he said grimly. “I don’t know how some escaped. I must inspect the gateway.”

“Who are they looking for?”

When he didn’t reply, I pressed further, “No more lies, remember? Not even those that make me feel better.”

He sighed. “It’s no coincidence that they’re here in your home. That all this began—”

“Once I took the Divine Pearl Lotus,”

I finished his sentence, trying to keep calm.

Zhangwei’s head dipped toward mine. “I won’t let them hurt you,”

he told me.

Of course—if I died, he died. And I almost hated myself for the way I twisted his words around. But while he was protecting my body, I had to protect my heart.

His hand tightened around mine; only now did I realize he hadn’t let go. “I must get you away. There are too many of them.”

Yet a new terror was stirring, one I couldn’t ignore. “If they don’t find what they’re looking for, will they hurt the others? I must warn—”

“We have to leave.”

He was still pale, his breathing uneven since his attempt to unseal the skies. Was he on the brink of exhaustion—afraid he couldn’t protect me now?

“I want to leave, but I can’t,”

I admitted; it took all my self-control to remain here, surrounded by these monsters. “I won’t let my people be hurt because of me. If you won’t help, I’ll face them alone.”

“If the Wuxin capture you, if they take the lotus—”

“It’s just about the lotus, isn’t it?”

I shot back. “You’re afraid I’ll lose it, that you’ll die.”

His face clouded as he glanced at the skies. Was he thinking of Lieutenant Yang? The dead immortal soldiers? “I’m afraid for you. What other magic do they possess that we know nothing of? I can’t risk them hurting you.”

“But you’ll risk everyone else?”

“Once you’re safe, I’ll return for them—”

“After they’ve killed everyone here? My soldiers aren’t equipped to battle such creatures. I must help them.”

I gripped my sword. “We need every weapon we can gather.”

“They are searching for you for a reason. If they find you, they win, and your kingdom will be the first to suffer.”

His voice roughened with intensity, but I couldn’t let myself listen to him—I would flee if I did, my resolve worn thin. What did I know of monsters except those the immortals had let into our world? Neither of them had any place here.

I rounded on him, holding onto my anger—of more use than my fear. “My people are in danger now. If they’re hurt, I don’t care what happens to your precious lotus. Let me go; you have no right to stop me.”

When he didn’t release me, I drew my sword with my other hand. Move, I urged him silently. But his eyes blazed as though challenging me, as though daring me to strike like he didn’t believe I would. My rage flared, eclipsing all else as I swung the sword at him. He didn’t evade, maybe underestimating my resolve—his gaze pinning mine as my blade sliced his arm, carving a shallow cut. Inside, I recoiled, my chest caving—sick at the sight of the blood I’d drawn. But I didn’t pause, wrenching free to stalk away, resisting the urge to turn. I wouldn’t be a coward. I was no longer helpless, an immortal blade in my hand . . . and a heart that was slowly hardening to stone.

* * *

I rushed toward the trail of cries, the clash of blades, the cold that knotted the air until it became a struggle to breathe. In the square ahead, just outside the hall where I held court, my soldiers were battling the Winged Devils. Their faces were pale but they fought bravely—even as their weapons gave way and shattered beneath the claws and blades of these creatures. Bodies lay on the ground, limbs splayed, blood oozing from their wounds.

I couldn’t look at their faces, I would break if I did.

The Wuxin were surrounded by soldiers, but they were no prey. While they bore spears and swords, they didn’t draw their weapons like they disdained our might.

“How dare you trespass here?”

Captain Li, the leader of the night patrol, demanded.

One of the Wuxin stepped forward, her skin the shade of magnolias, her white hair brushing her shoulders. “Where are the immortals? Where is the Lady of Tianxia?”

The delicate peal of her voice was that of a flute.

Captain Li kept her sword raised, though her hand quivered. “You are mistaken. No immortals are here.”

A tall Wuxin with light-brown eyes and a narrow face drew a curved dagger from his waist, brushing a finger across its tip. “Confess, and we will spare you. Lie, and you will die.”

I was afraid, but now I was furious. Slinging my sword behind me, I stepped out from the trees. Heads turned my way, Captain Li hurrying to my side.

“Your Ladyship, you can’t be here. Let us escort you back to your rooms.”

I looked at the soldiers, their tired faces bright with courage. “My place is with you.”

“Is this the Lady of Tianxia?”

A laugh rose from the tall man. “A frail thing. She will be easily subdued.”

“Captain Rao, insults are not necessary,”

the woman admonished him.

I seethed, gripping the sword tighter behind my back. There were only a handful of immortal blades among the soldiers here, including mine. Each had to count. Doubt clouded my mind, whispering this was futile, that it was safer to surrender—but I smothered it. Was it the presence of these beings or my own innate cowardice, my desire to survive?

As Captain Rao stalked toward me, a young soldier from my army leapt between us, thrusting his spear forward. Reckless and rash . . . and in my defense. The spear tip drove toward the captain’s shoulder, yet he did not evade it. As it touched his skin, the sharp point broke away, leaving just a jagged stump. Against these creatures, our weapons were as much use as porcelain blades.

The soldier’s eyes widened as Captain Rao cocked his head. “My turn,”

he rasped.

“Don’t hurt him!”

I cried. The soldier was so young, younger than me.

I lunged forward, but Captain Li blocked my path. “It’s too dangerous,”

she said, though her throat convulsed.

Chengyin was hurrying toward me, his robes in disarray like he’d just pulled them on. “Liyen, stay back,”

he called out. “We can’t let them take you hostage.”

A piercing cry drowned my protest. I spun to find the Wuxin captain’s hand thrust into the young soldier’s chest. Blood oozed, trickling down his wrist to blot the soil. The soldier’s eyes bulged, strangled sounds slipping from his mouth—as the Wuxin plucked his heart out as effortlessly as a ripe plum from its stem. With a malevolent grin, he dropped the heart, striking the earth with a wet thud.

A scream erupted from me as the soldier’s lifeless body crumpled to the ground. He had died protecting me . . . and I didn’t even know his name.

“You’re despicable,”

I spat at the Wuxin captain. “Every vile story I’ve heard about your kind is true.”

The captain’s mouth twisted in anger. He moved toward me, but another of my guards leapt forward, slashing at him. As the Wuxin reached for him with a cruel smile, something snapped inside me.

They would not take another.

I shoved my way to the front, pulling away as Chengyin tried to seize my arm. Rage burned through me—my caution, my fear—like fire devouring paper. As I swung my sword, the silver filigree shone like a piece of the moon. A Winged Devil aimed a spear at me—but I ducked, spinning around to plunge my blade into its chest. The creature grinned, maybe expecting my sword to break as the others before, yet it sank deep. As I yanked it out, the Winged Devil staggered back, its fingers groping the hole in its flesh.

“What weapon is this?”

the creature hissed. “I thought the mortals were poorly equipped.”

“More lies?”

another Winged Devil accused Captain Rao. “Just as your promised reinforcements that never came when we attacked the immortal queen’s palace? My people are imprisoned—”

“We will rescue them,”

the short-haired Wuxin woman replied firmly. “Our leader needs a little time; our plans are underway.”

I was listening intently, trying to learn more. Sensing my distraction, Captain Rao sprang toward me, his daggers drawn. Just in time, Chengyin dragged me back to safety. My soldiers rushed forward, forming a barrier between the Wuxin and me.

“Captain Rao, you were not authorized to attack. Killing the soldier was excessive,”

the woman admonished him.

I had believed them all eager to murder without cause. Was this an act, or were there some who didn’t share these bloodthirsty appetites?

Captain Rao scowled. “Miss Lin, matters of combat are my domain.”

“Much as you relish violence, Captain Rao—this is not the time for it. Lord Dalian entrusted this task to me. I determine our course of action. Cross me again, and I’ll report you for insubordination, for disobeying our leader’s instructions.”

Lord Dalian? Was he the ruler of the Wuxin?

Captain Rao’s face darkened, but he fell silent. Miss Lin faced me now, her gaze dropping to my blade. “Where did you get this sword? It’s a powerful weapon.”

“I’ll tell you nothing.”

I raised my chin defiantly, trying to steady my hands. Did Zhangwei regret giving me the sword after I’d cut him with it? How furious he must be. Furious enough to let me die?

As Captain Rao moved menacingly toward me, Miss Lin called out, “Lord Dalian wants her alive. Unharmed.”

“What if we remove her tongue from her mouth?”

Captain Rao offered as he raised his dagger again.

“Then you can explain her inability to speak to Lord Dalian.”

Captain Rao flinched. Whoever he was, their leader must be terrifying indeed.

Miss Lin gestured toward me. “Mortal, if you surrender and come with us, no one else will be harmed.”

Her tone was soft, her smile warm, but I would be a fool to believe anything they said. “What do you want with me?”

“Answers.”

“If I don’t have them?”

“If you don’t share them,”

she corrected me, her voice hardening, “you’ll wish you had.”

She shrugged, her smile widening. “Meet us with an open mind; you might find an ally in us. Not all of us are like him.”

Her gaze slid to Captain Rao, then back to me.

A chill glazed my skin, a prickling sensation that faded abruptly. Was she trying to secure something in me—something she had no right to? Had Zhangwei’s shield protected me? I wouldn’t let myself wonder where he was, though part of me couldn’t help worrying as I recalled his pallor and the ice of his skin. Miss Lin lied well. A stranger might believe her, one who didn’t know about the Wuxin, who hadn’t just seen them rip out a young man’s heart. His family would weep over his body tonight.

Could such monsters be reasoned with? Could I ally myself with such brutal killers? Never—but I had to pretend to. “Do you swear you won’t harm me or my people?”

“Not unless you act foolishly.”

“Will I be a guest or a prisoner?”

I asked like I was considering it, when the very thought sickened me.

Miss Lin inclined her head. “You will be accorded the honors of a guest, as long as you abide by the rules of one.”

She was shrewd, not giving anything without taking something in turn, weaving threats within silk.

“You can’t go.”

Chengyin pushed his way to me, his own sword drawn. “What if they hurt you? What if they never let you go?”

Captain Rao snorted, his head tilted to one side. “Who are you to speak for your ruler?”

Chengyin straightened. “Her betrothed.”

Fortunately, only a handful of my soldiers heard him. They exchanged guarded looks, knowing better than to question it now. As Captain Rao’s eyes gleamed, fear burrowed into my chest. I wanted to silence Chengyin, to conceal him from the Wuxin’s avaricious eyes—just as my friend was trying to help me, claiming a position he did not want.

“If I refuse, they will kill us all,”

I told Chengyin in a low voice. “If I’m forced to go with them, send word to the God of War.”

He would come for me, if only to retrieve the lotus.

I didn’t give Chengyin a chance to reply, turning toward the Wuxin. If I delayed, my false veneer of bravery would crack. They shifted, forming a pathway, my spirits leaden as I took a step forward—

The air crackled, bolts of flame slamming into the ground before me. Fire erupted, scorching and bright, forming a blazing barrier between the Wuxin and me. As a gale surged through the garden, dust scattered like a storm, my hands flying up to protect my eyes.

Zhangwei emerged from the trees. His sword was drawn, shining like ice. Even without his armor, danger emanated from him—no sign of any weakness, though I knew the toll this took on him. Had he been gathering his strength for this confrontation? At the sight of him, a strange feeling caught at me, a shred of remembrance. It was like the first night I’d met the God of War . . . and here he was again, burning my home. Such terror I’d felt then, such despair and loathing—yet now, there was only this fullness in my heart.

“The Wuxin were banished to the Netherworld. Do you not fear retribution by returning?”

His voice was not the one I was accustomed to: cold, unearthly, seething with power and wrath. The voice of the God of War.

Captain Rao’s cheeks mottled. “Banished upon whose orders? The Queen of the Golden Desert’s command means nothing to us. The day is drawing closer when you immortals will kneel to us.”

“Never.”

Zhangwei’s face seemed hewn from stone. “Tianxia is our domain, under our protection. Leave now.”

One day, Tianxia will be no one’s domain, I vowed to myself.

A cunning smile spread across Captain Rao’s face. “Since when is the God of War so merciful? Why have you not struck us down? Where are your soldiers?”

He looked up into the night, his tone laced with malice. “Or are they already dead?”

Zhangwei’s blade gleamed as he swept it forward, its point aimed at the captain. “Your little trick with the skies will not hold,”

he said coldly, as though he’d not already tried to break it. “Queen Caihong’s soldiers will soon arrive. Do you wish to face her wrath?”

The Wuxin shuffled nervously, except for Captain Rao who was studying Zhangwei.

“How did you escape the Netherworld?”

Zhangwei demanded. “How did you seal the skies?”

“Why should we tell you?”

Captain Rao replied insolently.

He lunged at Zhangwei abruptly, his twin daggers thrust before him—long and curved—whirling till they were a blur. The God of War’s sword flew up, deflecting each blow with startling swiftness.

Not even the rain can touch you.

The captain fell back, facing Zhangwei, arms outstretched as he circled him. He was panting, his expression cautious now. Without warning, his daggers swept up, the curved blades arching toward Zhangwei’s throat. A scream hovered on my lips as Zhangwei flung his sword up, thrusting it between the daggers, sparks scattering from the force of his blow. As the immortal twisted his arm deftly, he swept one of the daggers from the captain’s grip, flinging it away. The Wuxin dove forward, his teeth bared as he thrust his remaining dagger forward—but Zhangwei dipped back, then kicked the captain in his side, knocking the dagger from his grip.

The Winged Devils were advancing on my soldiers. Before I could rush forward, something gleamed between them, shining like a curtain of stardust. As one of the creatures clawed at it, a hissing sound erupted, fiery welts streaking across its arm. Zhangwei had erected a shield of protection around us, a further strain on his power. Fine lines creased around his eyes, his breathing shallow, my own heart thudding like a drum.

The Winged Devils charged forward, hacking at the god’s barrier. Just Miss Lin stood apart, watching the events unfold, maybe trying to determine who had the upper hand. This was not an even battle, most of our weapons unable to pierce our enemies’ flesh, Zhangwei’s power was stretched thin, straining beneath the weight of the attacks. Light streaked from his palms, bolts of fire hurtling down to strike the Winged Devils like molten rain. They cried out, shields forming around themselves as they stumbled back.

Greenish light arced from Captain Rao’s hand now, plunging toward Zhangwei, but he swung aside. With a swift sweep of his arm, Zhangwei drove his sword into the captain’s shoulder—yet the captain laughed as he wrenched free, blood trickling from his wound.

“God of War, why have you not unleashed your full might? You did so before to mercilessly destroy so many of my kin. What is staying your hand now?”

Zhangwei’s expression was inscrutable. “I don’t need magic to defeat you.”

“I’m starting to think you can’t use it—at least, not as before. Are you unwell, Lord Zhangwei? Still suffering the effects of our curse?”

Triumph surged in Captain Rao’s voice.

They knew.

I drew closer to Zhangwei, my mind working quickly. Captain Rao scented victory; he wouldn’t back down. And if the God of War revealed his vulnerability, it would embolden our enemy; they’d never leave. The Wuxin would overrun my kingdom—they’d nearly destroyed us once. I couldn’t let it happen again.

Something slipped into my mind then, something Zhangwei had told me once . . . that I was only now beginning to understand.

With you, I am warm.

I’d thought them tender words to lower my defenses, yet his skin had warmed at my touch. Did the presence of the Divine Pearl Lotus help him in any way? Could I channel part of it to him, lending its strength even if I did not yield it? I couldn’t use its power to save us . . . but the God of War might.

I gestured to Captain Li and whispered a quick command. At once, she ordered my soldiers to form a close circle around Zhangwei and me, facing away from us. To the Wuxin, it appeared like they were guarding me, when they were concealing us from sight. Captain Rao bared his teeth as he advanced, but Miss Lin seized his arm, whispering into his ear.

“What are you doing?”

Zhangwei asked in hushed tones.

“Helping you.”

I moved behind Zhangwei, sliding my hand over his, not giving him a chance to protest. A wild guess—this need to touch him as he’d touched me whenever he’d healed me. His body stiffened, but he remained still, his tension seeming to ease. Drawing a breath, I reached inward for the lotus, seeking the heat that pulsed in my chest—trying to recall the little he’d taught me of magic, how it felt when he’d tried to take it from me. Gritting my teeth, I grasped at this unseen thing within, as hard as trying to catch a snowflake before it thawed. I strained against an unseen barrier, not to push it from me but to channel it—toward my hand that was locked around his. Somehow, Zhangwei’s skin was already warming beneath my fingers, the color returning to his face.

Heat surged through my blood now, sweat breaking out over my body. I shivered despite the unrelenting warmth that flowed through me, my fingers gleaming against Zhangwei’s skin. Something bound us in this moment stronger than chains, more intimate than a kiss. We moved in unison, my body attuned to his: I could sense the warmth seeping through him, the power building in his grasp. My lungs tightened as I struggled to breathe, exhaustion looming over me. My instincts rebelled, screaming caution—yet I couldn’t stop. Our lives depended on this.

“This is your final warning. Leave now, or I will show no mercy,”

Zhangwei commanded, his voice taking on a new resonance, thrumming with unbound power.

As Captain Rao sneered—Zhangwei’s sword flared like living flame, the air writhing around us in the rhythm of a storm. The power torn from me was like my heart was being wrenched apart. As I gasped, Zhangwei moved away, breaking the contact. I slumped back with relief. Was it enough? I didn’t know if I could do more.

Cries erupted among the Wuxin, the Winged Devils scrambling away. Miss Lin grabbed Captain Rao’s arm. “You’re wrong, the God of War is as strong as before.”

“No,”

Captain Rao snapped. “We must continue our attack—”

“Then stay here yourself,”

Miss Lin snarled. “I won’t risk us all to fulfil your bloodlust.”

Captain Rao’s gaze slid from Zhangwei to me, narrowed with suspicion. My insides clenched—but then he turned away reluctantly, the monsters gliding away from my home as silently as they had entered.