Immortal

31

I lay on a hard surface, my body numb, my head pounding. As I inhaled, an unfamiliar scent wafted into my nose of cedarwood and earth. My neck was tender where the imposter had throttled me; when I swallowed, it hurt. Pain throbbed along my arm where his whip had struck, the welts still raw.

I opened my eyes, blinking against the sudden brightness. Sunlight fell in amber shafts through the window. A quick glance assured me that my garments were intact, the ones I’d worn yesterday. Yet the sword from Zhangwei had gone, vanished when the imposter tried to take it.

The thin mattress beneath me was covered with a rough sheet, stained in places. Revolted, I scrambled up, fighting a wave of panic at the sight of my surroundings: the closed door, gray stone walls, a solitary window fenced with bars that gleamed with an eerie light. I tried the door first, wrenching it—but it was locked as expected. Climbing onto the chair, I peered through the window. The sky beyond blazed with rose and vermilion like dawn and dusk entwined. It was beautiful, if only terror did not spear me at the sight.

I was no longer in my world.

Reaching toward the window, I yanked at the bars. A humming ripped through the air, the metal scorching my hands. I cried out, staring at the cuts crisscrossing my palms. How they seared, like I had scraped them against a bed of nails.

Footsteps sounded from outside. Something clinked, a lock unlatching as the door swung open. A man strode into the cell, his purple brocade robe trimmed with white fur. It was Chengyin—the false one. This monster had stolen my friend’s body. My hands balled into fists. Anger was good; it helped me forget my fear and misery, the very thing these creatures thrived on.

When I lunged at him, he shoved me aside with brutal force, his hand ice-cold. I fell against the wall, fighting the tears that threatened.

He straightened his robe with an irate expression. “You’re not in your kingdom anymore. Mind your manners, if you care for you and your friend’s safety.”

“Where is Chengyin? Is he safe? Who are you?”

His mouth curved though his eyes remained flat, ringed with that strange coppery glint. “Your betrothed is well—for now.”

Betrothed? I kept my face blank, recalling how Chengyin had defended me in the palace. Had Captain Rao or Miss Lin reported this? By trying to help me, he’d ended up a target. I didn’t correct the imposter, afraid to expose Chengyin to greater danger.

“How did you know so much about us?”

The way he’d acted, the things he’d said back in the forest—I’d almost believed his pretense.

“His memories are useful, yielding valuable information, though he’s grown better at concealing them. I was remiss to overlook the scar.”

He sneered, my insides tightening at the malice on my friend’s face.

If you know someone, you can easily discern the true from false—as long as you’re looking.

Zhangwei had been right. I’d been careless, seeing only what I wanted to, missing the signs. A mistake I was paying for.

“It’s fortunate for him that you showed up. I was getting bored and tempted to dispose of the host.”

My temper snapped. “You monster,”

I raged. “Hurt him, and I’ll kill you.”

“His well-being is in your hands; it depends on your behavior. When I’m angered, I tend to take it out on those closest to me.”

He tapped his shoulder where I’d stabbed him. “Try what you did before, and I’ll carve him into pieces—the parts of him I don’t need.”

He raised his hand, nails sharpening to talons, then plunged them into his own arm, raking deep crevices. Skin slit, blood oozing forth. “Your beloved can feel this.”

Lines creased his forehead, smoothed away abruptly. Could he feel it, too? “You have a sharp tongue. Guard it better, or he will suffer each time you defy me.”

“Stop!”

I cried, fighting my queasiness. “Please . . . just stop.”

How I loathed him, his delight in toying with us, the fact we were at his mercy.

He dropped his hand, ignoring the blood that trickled down his arm. “Next time, I’ll slice his vein.”

I shook my head frantically. “Let me speak to him.”

“Try asking nicely,”

he suggested.

“Please,”

I said through gritted teeth.

“No.”

A laugh followed.

I drew a shaking breath. I wouldn’t beg; it would make no difference. Glancing outside at the reddish skies, I asked, “Is this the Netherworld?”

He inclined his head. “You are the first mortal to have the honor of coming here.”

And even though I’d already known, his confirmation came as a blow. I sat back down on the mattress, pressing my hands to my head, my palms stinging from the cuts.

“You have me trapped. Why don’t you let Chengyin go?”

He rubbed the birthmark on his face. “I don’t like this form, these flaws, but I have need of him yet. Don’t forget, I protect him while I have use of him—while you are of use to me.”

He yawned as though bored. “It was not easy to secure this host. It took threats against his mother’s life before he succumbed.”

I bit back the curse that leapt to my tongue. “Where is Aunt Shou?”

“Why don’t you stop worrying about everyone else and look to yourself? Do you know why we want you?”

The Divine Pearl Lotus? My gut hollowed, my pulse racing unsteadily. They didn’t know I’d surrendered it to Zhangwei. My heart ached as I recalled how he’d called my name, searching for me even after he’d gotten what he wanted. Could he find me here? Regardless, I had to keep up the pretense, afraid of what they’d do to Chengyin and me once they learned the truth.

“Why don’t you tell me?”

I said, drawing him out.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

He examined the chamber, wrinkling his nose. “The Lady of Tianxia should not have to suffer the indignity of such quarters. If you promise to behave, you will be treated as my guest.”

Unease slithered over me. I didn’t like accepting favors from those I did not trust, those who threatened and coerced to get their way. “What does being ‘your guest’ entail?”

“Act as your elders brought you up, treating your host with courtesy and respect.”

His smile was viperous. “Remember this, and we’ll get along.”

A “guest”

would have more freedom, while I’d gain nothing by being confined. I couldn’t afford to anger him; I had to swallow my pride, hard though it was.

As I nodded in agreement, he bowed in a mockery of gallantry. “Follow me, my lady.”

It was a relief to leave the place, even as I dreaded what lay beyond.

I let the Wuxin walk ahead of me, taking the opportunity to study my surroundings.

He strode down a flight of stairs and entered a wide hall, its walls of gray quartz speckled with white.

A row of latticed windows stretched along the side, offering a glimpse of the world outside.

I darted to an open one, gripping the frame as I looked out.

A mountain loomed ahead, its jagged white peak tucked into a ring of clouds, a river coiled like a serpent around its onyx-like base.

The Wangchuan River.

I leaned farther out the window, seeking a way to climb down—

The flap of wings stirred the air, a shrill screech ringing out.

I jerked back from the window just as a white-feathered bird soared past, its wings fanned wide.

A vermilion plume adorned its head like a comb, its claws and beak glinting like iron.

A long tail with needlelike feathers struck the window frame, scraping the wood.

Dozens of these creatures circled the skies—and I went cold at the sight.

These birds ...

I’d seen them before.

In Tianxia, when the skies had been sealed. Was this how the Wuxin had done it?

“What are they?” I asked.

“Void birds. The original inhabitants of the Netherworld, though they have welcomed us and now guard our skies.”

The false Chengyin’s voice rang with satisfaction. “A friendly warning: While you’re welcome to explore, take care to stay indoors, or bring a guard when you go outside. These creatures are ravenous. While they leave my people untouched, they would relish the taste of mortal flesh.”

My throat went dry as I backed farther away from the window, resisting the urge to slam it shut. We walked in silence along the corridor, down another flight of stairs, then halted by a closed door.

“Your new quarters.”

His gaze raked me, lingering on a tear in my skirt. “Find something better to wear for tonight.”

“Why?”

Suspicion thickened my tone.

“A banquet will be held in your honor.”

There is nothing I’d hate more. “What gracious hospitality,”

I said with a false smile.

He straightened like my words pleased him. “To those who deserve it. If you need something—”

“I have a request of my host,”

I interjected, latching onto the opportunity. “Would you show me your real face? I want to know who I’m speaking to. I’ve heard only the strongest among your kind can take another’s form.”

These words were chosen to stir his pride. I had to know if Chengyin was still there, if he was safe.

When his mouth pursed, I added, “If it’s too difficult, there’s no need. I understand some might be shy to show their true appearance.”

The imposter’s eyes narrowed, rolling back until only the whites could be seen. His body shimmered as he seemed to split apart—another face rising from Chengyin’s like mist, gradually solidifying. Handsome, almost beautiful with white hair and flawless skin, even as his hard gaze repelled me.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“Lord Dalian. I am the ruler of this place.”

He drew out his title, a subtle warning to not forget it.

I recoiled inside, hiding my fear. It was the name Miss Lin had spoken, the one the captain had flinched from. No wonder this person spoke with the unwavering authority of one used to being obeyed. The emphasis he set on his position was telling; he would have little tolerance for disrespect in any form.

“Lord Dalian,”

I intoned obediently, scrutinizing his face—except it wasn’t him I was looking at. Just Chengyin, a flash of himself once more, though gaunt and pale. His mouth gaped in a soundless scream, then twitched as though fighting some inner battle—finally, forming a single soundless word: Run.

My hands curled. Even now he still looked out for me.

“Are you satisfied?”

Lord Dalian’s voice rang out.

I yanked myself back from the brink of rage, from making rash threats and unwise promises. “Let him go. Please.”

“Not yet. Not until you prove yourself to me. I know there’s little you won’t do to save him.”

His face blurred as it settled back into Chengyin’s like a shadow coalescing into its original form.

“Wait!”

I lunged forward—but Chengyin’s hand shot up, controlled by Lord Dalian, slamming against my shoulder to send me sprawling to the floor.

My friend’s eyes closed as his body stiffened. When his eyes opened again, their pupils were ringed with that despicable coppery sheen. Lord Dalian’s hateful expression returned, his lips twisted. I would have gladly clawed his face off if it wouldn’t hurt Chengyin, too.

“Did you like what you saw?”

He rubbed his chin with the languid complacency of one assured in himself. “Was my appearance as you expected?”

I expected a monster, and that was what I got.

But I nodded, unable to speak—still shaken by what I’d seen, by the weight of the unseen chains that snared me. As long as Chengyin was a hostage, I was bound along with him. I had to find a way to free him, for us to escape before we outlived our usefulness . . . before they killed us both.