Wenzhi crouched down beside me, drawing me into his arms. From the corner of my eye, I saw Liwei reach toward me, his fingers curling before they fell back down again.
The Black Dragon sighed. I wish I had gladder tidings. I am sorry for your loss. With a graceful leap into the night, it flew away.
Wenzhi’s arm tightened around me then. Looking up at him, I blinked in surprise. His pupils were no longer black, but a silvery gray like rainfall in winter. I jerked back, shoving against him as a cloud swept in and whisked us into the sky—soaring so quickly, I could barely breathe through the air rushing into my face. I thrashed against Wenzhi’s hold, reaching furiously for my energy, despite the numbing chill that spread through my body like the frost forming on a leaf. I could not move, not even to struggle. Liwei’s shout pierced my stupor, followed by the ringing clash of metal which soon faded to a dull echo.
“I’m sorry.”
A drifting whisper that dissolved with the wind, so soft I might have imagined it. Eyes of silver, shadowed with regret—and then everything went dark.
31
A deep scent infiltrated my senses, opulent and sweet like a gilded forest. Sandalwood, my mind whispered, roused from the fog that enveloped it. My eyes flicked open. Sitting up, I pressed my fingers to my throbbing head—the ache worsening as I stared at the room with its mahogany furniture, green marble floor, and gold silk hangings. Tendrils of fragrant smoke coiled from a three-legged incense burner. Something cold seared my hands and when I glanced down, I recoiled. Dark metal bracelets encircled my wrists, crafted from the same material used to bind Liwei in the Eternal Spring Forest. I tried to slide them off, but they stuck fast, endless circles of immutable metal with neither clasp nor hinge. I grasped at my energy, yet it evaded my hold—just as when my powers were untrained. Just as in Shadow Peak.
Fear clouded me as I stumbled to the doors, tugging at them. Locked. I sank onto a barrel-shaped stool, anger kindling in the pit of my stomach. Was I a prisoner? Was my magic bound? Where was Liwei? Wenzhi? And what of the pearls? My hands shook as I untied my pouch, shaking its contents onto the table. My jade flute rolled out, along with Prince Yanming’s paper dragon. I dashed to the bed and threw the covers aside, peering beneath furniture, flinging open chests and drawers. But there was no sign of the pearls or my bow.
I recalled the glacial hue of Wenzhi’s pupils, the whisper in the wind before I lost consciousness. Was he possessed by some malevolent spirit? Impersonated by one? Was he in danger, too? My chest tightened, even as a revolting suspicion crept up the fringes of my mind.
The doors slid open. My head jerked up. A young girl entered, carrying a tray. Taken aback by my grim expression, she hesitated before bowing hastily. “My lady, you’re awake. I’ll . . . I’ll inform His Highness at once.”
She dropped the tray onto the table and hurried away, shutting the doors behind her.
“Wait!” I ran to the doors and yanked at them to no avail, shouting after her, “What is this place? Who is ‘His Highness’？”
There was no reply, just her footsteps fading to silence.
I sat upon the stool again, restraining the urge to pound the table in frustration. For want of anything to do, I lifted the lid off the porcelain bowl, staring with disinterest at the clear broth drizzled with golden sesame oil. Its warm, savory aroma wafted into my nostrils, but I pushed the bowl aside.
A breeze slipped into the room, cutting through the cloying incense. I ran to the window, inhaling great gulps of fresh air. The sun shone brightly, though the ground below was obscured by violet clouds. Iridescent tiles shimmered from the roof with a rainbow-like sheen. I peered closer at the obsidian walls, noticing ridges in them deep enough to grip onto. Hiking up my skirt, I swung a foot through the window—only to slam against an invisible barrier as hard as rock.
Gritting my teeth, I grabbed at my energy with more force than before. But the flecks of light darted away as though scattered by the wind. I searched the room again, emptying out the contents of the drawers and cupboards, leaving silk and brocade strewn in my wake, books piled upon the floor. If I had to fight my way out of here, I needed to arm myself—with the leg wrenched from the table if need be. Rifling through a box filled with jewelry, I dug out all the hairpins, placing two in my hair and sliding the rest into the sash around my waist.
The doors creaked behind me. I steeled myself as I whirled around, a gold pin tucked in my palm. Wenzhi stepped into the room, dressed in a green brocade robe embroidered with autumn leaves, their hue shifting from crimson to gold. His dark hair was pulled through a jade ring, falling over his shoulder. Heat fired in my veins at the sight of his eyes, no longer black but that strange silvery hue. An imposter! I hurled the hairpin at his face and raced toward the entrance. He spun to the side, catching me around my waist as I struggled and kicked at him. My foot landed hard against his thigh, his body tensing, even as his arm tightened around me. As I bent my knee to drive it into his stomach, he struck it down deftly. Frantic now, I shoved the flat of my palms against his chest, rearing away from him—as the back of my head slammed against the wall. Stupid, my mind hissed through the pain, sparks flashing across my eyes.