The figure in black pauses, and fingers reach under the wooden mask, pulling it away. Dark eyes, long-lashed, stare back at me wearily. The scar down her throat, half-healed … the one I gave her.
Ruyi. Handmaiden to the princess, presumed dead. Standing before me, reeking of magic.
“I owe you my life,” she says. “You can put that down. I mean you no harm.”
I hesitate, then slowly place it at my feet.
“I was told you were dead.” I thought it explained Zhen’s absence tonight, thought she was lost to her grief. I don’t believe in ghosts, but she stands here before me.
“She lied, sent me away to heal and make preparations.” She steps forward, frowning. “But before we continue, I have to ask you this. Where do your loyalties lie?” Her hand rests on the hilt of her sword. A promise, and a threat.
I stare back at her. I suppose I could lie, say something pretty and useless that she wants to hear. But I’ve always been a terrible liar, and I’m tired of lying now.
“My loyalty rests with the ruler who will protect their people from harm,” I tell her. “With someone who does not use human lives as pawns.”
Ruyi stares back at me for a moment, then smirks, her hand dropping away from her sword. “She was right. You do not shy away from the truth. Even though you should have been dead ten times over by now, for some reason the stars shine upon you.”
I would disagree, considering my current predicament. “Where is the princess?” I ask instead.
“Confined to her rooms,” Ruyi says. “Chancellor Zhou says it’s to keep her safe, but most likely it’s to keep her unaware of your swift execution at dawn.”
If Zhen is not on the side of the chancellor, then it means she is unprepared for what is coming.
“You have to get her out of the palace,” I say urgently. “The soldiers from the Emerald Isles are inside the capital.”
The magic ripples around her. “You saw this?”
“They came with the governor of Sù. He found me not long after the officials were poisoned.”
“You have to come with me,” Ruyi tells me, eyes brilliant even in the dark.
“I can’t. You have to get him out.” I shake my head and gesture to Wenyi’s form in the other cell. “Get him help and then return for me later.”
Ruyi’s face twists, her annoyance apparent.
“We have no time for this,” she snarls, but she turns on her heel and heads to the other cell, crouching before Wenyi’s unconscious form. She puts her hand on his shoulder, and I wait for him to move, to recognize that I kept my promise.
But Ruyi narrows her eyes. Her fingers go to his neck, checking for a pulse.
She looks up and tells me everything I need to know with a gentle shake of her head.
I am too numb to scream, but I commit him to memory. Another name to add to the list, another innocent life lost to these courtly games.
Someday, I will avenge them all.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
I try to empty whatever remains in my stomach into that pot, but end up dry-retching instead. Ruyi returns to my side and places her hand on my shoulder, a reassuring presence. I can feel the magic thrumming off her, from the heat of her hand through even the layers of my tunic. She feels like she’s vibrating from within, a string pulled too taut.
I stand up and press my hand to her forehead. She tries to flinch away, but I’ve already felt how her skin burns. Someone filled her with too much magic, and it’s tearing her apart from the inside. There is something familiar, though, about that scent … and how the magic inside me acknowledges it in response.
“Lian sent you,” I say, and she nods.
“Come with me. There’s nothing left for you here.” She offers me her cloak and I accept it, wrapping it around myself. I take one last look at Wenyi’s body and mumble a phrase of the funeral rites, hoping a part of his soul will find its way back to Ràohé, and back to his family.
* * *
I try not to look at the bodies of the guards, the blood pooling beneath them. But still the twinge of guilt remains. More blood, more death. I brought Ruyi back to life, only to have her empty out the souls of others.
Whose life? Whose death?
I concentrate on putting one foot ahead of the other through the tunnels of the palace. The farther we walk, the heavier her weight leans on me, trying to keep herself upright. Deep in the twists and turns of the tunnels, we trudge on, but she stumbles more often than she should, and I know she doesn’t have much time left.