Immortal

34

The air was still, the waters calm. When had the barge stopped?

My gut twisted as I followed Lord Dalian onto the deck. The silhouette of a cliff loomed ahead, a temple perched on its edge, as luminous as if carved from a sliver of the moon. Blood-red tiles gleamed from its roof, shining like they were wet with rain.

“You brought me here? What if I’d refused?”

Anger crept into my voice as I buried the spike of alarm.

“You don’t seem like a fool,”

Lord Dalian said with deliberation. “I would hate to be proven wrong.”

I quelled a sharp retort. He’d already shown that he was not averse to using force. For now, there was no choice but to obey him, or at least pretend to.

When I didn’t reply, Lord Dalian added, “An escort will accompany you to the temple, so you don’t get ‘lost.’”

Soldiers surrounded me at once, led by Captain Rao. As I left the barge with them, the winged predators of the Netherworld circled hungrily above our heads. If I ran, they’d devour me whole. And even if I fled, what about Chengyin? I would not leave him here.

A long flight of stairs was cut into the slope that led to the temple, the wooden boards narrow and steep. Golden larch trees flanked the path, their bright-yellow leaves brushing my shoulders as I passed. Above us loomed the temple, clad in shadows and starlight. The dark-red roof was almost black in the night, the ridges adorned with small sculptures of birds. At the top of the hill, the grounds were immaculately tended, flowers blooming in cultivated profusion. The place was desolate—unsurprising, as Lord Dalian had said no other could enter.

What would he do to me if I failed, if I was no longer of use to him? My legs were shaking as I approached the temple. I held my breath as the doors slid apart—my relief entwined with dread. Maybe the trace of the lotus left inside me sufficed, the bit that had healed me. It was dark within, without a glimpse of light. My insides knotted as I glanced at the soldiers who had formed a ring around me.

“Go in,”

Captain Rao ordered with a malicious grin. “Lord Dalian said we could help hasten you should you waver.”

I wouldn’t give him the pleasure, my smile hiding my gritted teeth. “You are most obedient, Captain Rao. Lord Dalian is fortunate to have such a loyal servant.”

I relished the flash of wrath in his eyes, my satisfaction vanishing as I stalked into the temple, fear beating wildly in my chest. The doors closed, entombing me in darkness. I swung around and tried to pry them apart, but they were locked. Would they open once I’d completed my task? A scent wafted in, of incense mingled with an earthiness that reminded me of the Wangchuan River. They must be connected, as Lord Dalian had said. Was everything he’d claimed true? If there was a small chance of restoring their river to avert a war, I had to seize it.

Lanterns flared to life, casting their light across the walls, as smooth as the hollow of a shell. A whisper of music glided through the chamber, although there was neither instrument nor musician in sight. Thoughts of ghosts crowded my mind—they aren’t real, I told myself harshly. Yet after all I’d seen in the skies and beyond, the lines between reality, nightmare, and myth were irrevocably blurred.

In the far corner, a round pond gleamed. As I walked toward it, the music faded. Light fell from a hole in the ceiling, the waters glistening. Bright-green algae bloomed over the pond evenly, like a silk sheet pulled taut. Were the waters tainted as Dalian had said? His story seemed to fit, yet a shard of unease lodged in my chest. What was I missing? What had I overlooked? For these immortal beings, nothing was ever as it seemed.

I approached the pond cautiously. My senses prickled, the air thick with the unknown. Bracing myself, I glanced into the waters. A whispering rustled through the silence, a strange force enveloping me—drawing me closer until my face hovered just above the surface.

The algae dissolved abruptly and sank into the depths. My reflection looked back at me, as clear and still as though I were looking at myself through another’s eyes. Except now copper ringed my irises—just like those of the Wuxin—my hair all glittering white. Ice clung to my veins as a desperate terror mounted. Something loosened inside me, breaking away, darkness crashing down like waves of night. Screams bottled up, an emptiness ripping through my head like something vital was being torn away . . . an invasion, a theft of what was most precious.

It was a trap. This task was never about restoring the Wangchuan—was it to seize the Divine Pearl Lotus? I cursed Lord Dalian, shivering as sweat beaded my skin, the cold sinking into my flesh worse than any fever. Closing my eyes, I grappled with these vicious sensations. The stars above glittered like a crown of light, bathing me in their pale glow. Would I die here? A pang struck as I thought of Zhangwei. What lay between us felt unfinished—a story without an ending. And what of Tianxia? Would he honor his promise to me? Somehow, I knew he would . . . if only I could see the walls come down.

My head fell back, as I closed my eyes, on the cusp of succumbing to despair. Faces flashed across my mind: Grandfather, my parents, Chengyin—and Zhangwei, his eyes of midnight flame, his voice urging me to fight back. Something sparked in my core, morphing into a deep warmth that surged through my body. The shivering stopped, my breathing calmed, the turmoil settling like dust falling to the earth. Such sweetness spilled into the air, of cloves . . . the scent transporting me back to the Ancient Grandmaster’s courtyard, when I’d lain beneath the shade of the Tree of Everlasting Life—when the glistening drop had fallen to my brow. The deep peace that had suffused me then was enveloping me now.

A blessing from the Tree of Everlasting Life . . . One of protection, to seal your spirit from harm.

I still struggled to understand, yet sensed I’d been protected from something terrible. I’d almost forgotten the tree’s gift, only now awakening to how precious it had been—the only thing keeping me safe, keeping me whole.

As my pulse slowly steadied, the unfamiliar sensations fading, my eyes flicked open. Above lay the gap that opened to the skies, void birds circling as though sensing the disturbance. Though they were far away, specks in the night, their shrill whistles pierced my ears.

A strange tingling rippled through my body as a sudden awareness crashed over me—the ends of countless threads coiling around me, tangled and knotted, a few merging together seamlessly. Images drifted into my mind of things I’d never seen yet were familiar somehow, like a fragment of the past, an echo of a song I’d almost forgotten:

Clouds floating across the sky. Mountains of turquoise, nestled amid the glittering sands. A woman was holding me in her arms, her long hair obscuring her face, the gold thread on her brocade gown rubbing against my skin. There was such love in her embrace, my heart ached.

“Mother,”

I whispered, looking up into her face.

The Queen of the Golden Desert.

A scream burst from my lips, my heart racing. Queen Caihong was harsh and cruel, the bane of Tianxia. My own mother had died long ago, along with my father. Was this some trick? If so, it was a twisted and vicious one.

As I pressed my hands to my head, more recollections swept through me as if a dam had burst open, too many to weave together, leaving me grasping at shreds: the immortal queen picking me up when I fell, wiping tears from my eyes, smiling with pride at my accomplishments, scowling when I misbehaved. How she’d tucked me into my bed, whispering my name in her clear voice. And once, when she’d hugged me as we’d both wept, grief hollowing our hearts—and though I couldn’t recall what we’d lost then, tears fell from my eyes now at this shadow of unspeakable sorrow.

What did this all mean? I was no longer afraid, just filled with a fierce longing to know. “What is happening? Is this a trick? A test?”

My voice resonated through the empty chamber. If it was, just let it end. My heart could bear no more.

The waters of the pond shuddered, as a disembodied voice rang out: Those who come here claim one future, but two lie before you.

My eyes darted around frantically. “Who are you?”

The Mirror of Destiny—of the past, the present, and that which has yet to come.

I stared into the dark waters, light flickering over the surface like fireflies. My reflection looked back at me: the copper gone from my eyes, now as black as my hair, just the sliver of white remaining.

“What are you? Are you . . . alive?”

I asked carefully.

No. Neither am I dead. A long pause. Will you claim your destiny? Choose, and the other will be no more.

“I don’t believe in destiny, nor do I believe a puddle in the ground.”

I spoke vehemently—afraid of what was happening, of what might be unveiled.

You are insolent.

“I am cautious. It comes from knowing too many liars.”

Destiny bears as much weight as you yield it. Sometimes hope can forge your path, sometimes fear can divert you from it.

“Hope is not the same as blind faith,” I said.

Just as you should not deny what you are ignorant of.

I flushed, feeling justly rebuked. The mirror was right; I shouldn’t close myself off to any possibility simply because it might be hard to hear.

“Who are you to the Wuxin?” I asked.

Neither their ally nor their foe. I take no sides, revealing only what lies in my domain.

“Are the waters here tainted at all?”

Part of me still hoped for the chance of a peaceful solution. “Is the Wangchuan River weakening?”

The waters here are untainted. Yet the power of the Wangchuan River has waned. Before one attempts to restore it, one should learn the cause.

Dread sank over me. It was as I’d suspected; Lord Dalian had lied just to bring me to the temple. “Why do the Wuxin want me here?”

To complete the ritual, to become one of them.

I jerked back in horror. “Impossible.”

It should be, the mirror agreed. The way it spoke, so dispassionately, eased some of my suspicion. Except they found a way. You are no ordinary mortal, your spirit from the realm in the skies.

I froze, certain I’d heard wrong. In the silence, it continued: You were immortal. You are mortal now. What you will become—that is yet to be determined.

“I was immortal?”

I repeated in disbelief. “What of my life in Tianxia? My family there? Was everything false?”

My words tripped out as I tried to piece everything together, all I knew . . . at least, all I thought I’d known. The one thing I held on to was my memory of Grandfather—he was real, as was his love and care for me.

One truth does not cancel out the other. Just because one element is real, doesn’t make the other false.

These words calmed me. It didn’t matter how something had begun, but what it had grown into. “Why don’t I recall any of this—of my immortal life? Why only now?”

As a mortal, you wouldn’t remember anything of your life before; these memories are only restored once you regain your immortality. But entering the temple and looking into my depths, reveals who you are meant to be.

My head was spinning. Was this a dream or a nightmare? For some inexplicable reason . . . it felt right. Memories were trickling into my mind, those I couldn’t decipher, like reading a book in a language I didn’t understand—that I desperately wanted to.

I knelt beside the mirror. “Please tell me what happened. I can’t decide if I don’t know what this means.”

A sigh rustled, the waters rippling. During the war, the Wuxin cast a powerful curse over their enemies—including you, the immortal daughter of the queen they hated. For the cure, you had to become mortal.

“Because of the Divine Pearl Lotus,”

I whispered.

Once it had been harvested, once you’d been cured—they’d planned to restore your immortality. Except the Wuxin’s poison concealed you from the immortals, leaving your core vulnerable. The Wuxin were able to stake a claim on you in your mortal form, by feeding you the waters of the Wangchuan River. This would have secured your transformation had you come here without the blessing from the Tree of Everlasting Life, or if the immortals had attempted to restore you without it. You would have lost your memories forever then, your immortal self, erased.

My heart was racing—fear and grief, anger and relief bound up and tangled. If I weren’t kneeling, I would have fallen. I should be lost, yet there was a clarity in my mind that hadn’t existed before, like a fog had dispersed. Pieces were falling into place, those that had never quite fit together, of unanswered questions and unexplained coincidences: my weakness and unabating chill that were a remnant of the Wuxin’s attack, why Aunt Shou had given me the waters of death. Even Queen Caihong’s behavior when I’d met her—and what of Zhangwei? He’d been poisoned too; had we been attacked together? I shrank away, my mind clouding suddenly as I wrestled with these revelations.

“Why did the Wuxin want to do this to me? Why transform me into one of them?” I asked.

A pause. Who knows the desires that dictate such action? Maybe it was vengeance—to steal the queen’s heir after they’d lost theirs? Or maybe it’s because the key to the gateway lies in your heritage, in the power you possess.

It had never been about the Divine Pearl Lotus after all—they just didn’t want the God of War to have it, to be healed. All this time, the Wuxin had only wanted me. Dalian’s promise of vengeance made sense now: I’d been one part of his vile plan—the other, to destroy my realm.

“What happens now?” I asked.

That depends on which path you choose.

More riddles, more unanswered questions. The urge to lash out swelled, except the mirror was not my enemy. Those harbored far more devious and cruel hearts, and I would never let them win.

I will reveal my secrets only once. Will you learn your destiny and claim your fate—or remain in endless ignorance?

In the pond, my reflection quivered, breaking apart into two distinct forms, side by side. They no longer followed my movements, remaining still, as though frozen. Fear hovered, yet I cast it aside. No longer would I be afraid.

Slowly, I lifted my head. A deep sense of purpose filled me, laced with foreboding and anticipation. “Show me what you will.”