“You served under the Celestial Emperor before. He must have good reason to request your service again.” I fumbled for a peaceable solution, clinging to this slender thread to salvage my conscience—even as I loathed myself for it.
The Long Dragon’s eyes flashed, its tail lashing the air. We never served the Celestial Emperor. We were once ruled by a far worthier immortal. To him, we gave our allegiance—until he returned our pearls into our safekeeping.
Its words crushed my last glimmer of hope. Turning to Wenzhi and Liwei, I read grim determination in their faces.
My fingers reached for my jade pendant, pulling it out and clasping it for comfort. I could not look at the dragon, a hot, prickling tightness spreading across my chest. “I’m sorry, but I need your pearls.”
The Long Dragon bared its fangs, sharper than spears. Its jaws parted, spewing a stream of white mist toward me. Light erupted from Liwei and Wenzhi, even as I threw my own shield up—too late—the mist shrouding me, clinging to my skin where it seared with the biting cold of ice. But the discomfort faded abruptly, leaving just a pleasant coolness below the hollow of my neck. My pendant? I lifted it to stare at the carving. The crack had vanished; the jade was whole once more. Had the dragon’s breath done this?
The Long Dragon reared back, its eyes bulging as mist coiled from its nostrils once more. Was it attacking again? Terror clawed me as I drew the bow, Sky-fire crackling between my fingers. My stomach churned as I aimed it at the creature. I thought wildly of my mother—grasping for the strength, the ruthlessness, to do what I needed to. All I had to do was release this arrow . . .
Unbidden, the memory of the paper dragon from Prince Yanming rose in my mind. May the dragons protect you on your journey. My heart quailed from a sudden burst of anguish as I raised my bow higher—away from the dragon—releasing the bolt into the sky. White veins of light illuminated the heavens. A crushing disappointment descended over me, yet it was laced with undeniable relief. I could not strike it, and deep down, I knew my mother would not have wanted this either. No matter what it cost us.
Behind me, Liwei sucked in a sharp breath. The Long Dragon craned its neck toward me, staring at the bow. Something flashed in its golden gaze, akin to recognition.
The Jade Dragon Bow. How is this possible? Its voice was calm once more.
Before I could speak, Wenzhi stepped forward. He must have heard the dragon’s question, too. “The bow chose her. She wields it now.”
This is most unexpected. The Long Dragon’s sigh was like the wind tearing through the trees. Would you lend me the Divine Iron Seal? I would use it to free my siblings as I must confer with them. I give you my word that we will return here, and no harm will come to any of you.
Wenzhi drew me aside and spoke in hushed tones. “Ask the dragon to surrender its pearl, first. If you give it the seal, it will free the others and you might never see it again. We’ve come this far—if you lose the seal now, you will end up with nothing.”
His advice was sound. In any confrontation, Wenzhi was ever vigilant and ruthless—which was why he was so often victorious.
But the dragons were not my enemy.
As I looked away, my eyes met Liwei’s. “Xingyin, this is your decision,” he said, in a gentler tone than I expected.
I should have heeded Wenzhi’s advice, but my instincts guided me down a different path. I believed the Long Dragon would not deceive me. How could I hope to gain its trust if I hesitated to yield mine?
Slowly, I stretched out my hand, the seal resting in my palm.
Light shot from the Long Dragon’s paw, enveloping the seal, which floated into its grasp. As its claws closed around it, the dragon’s massive jaws curved up. With a single bound, it soared into the night.
Wenzhi stared silently after its shrinking silhouette. Was he displeased? I had not his wealth of experience, but I trusted my own intuition.
I reached out to touch his arm, pressing my fingers against his sleeve. “It will return.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because I’m wise beyond my years.” I spoke lightly, trying to conceal my own rising doubt.
He laughed, the sound rich and full. “That you are. Though you are young, for an immortal,” he added pointedly.
“Then tell me, Ancient One,” I said, with a smile. “What did you mean when you said the bow chose me? Why didn’t you mention this before?”
He leaned over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his hand lingering before falling away. “It was something I read in the Eastern Sea library. I didn’t think it was important as it seemed obvious the bow had made its choice.”