“How did you escape?” Liwei asked.
I smiled at him, my first real one since I had been taken. “Do you remember the star-lilies? From our lesson, when you gave me the answer which saved me a scolding?” That morning in the Chamber of Reflection felt like a lifetime ago. “Fortunately, you were a conscientious student. I would not have known about them otherwise.”
He nodded, though somewhat uncertainly.
“I used them to put Wenzhi to sleep.”
A taut silence fell over us. If he wondered how I had done it, how I enticed Wenzhi into drinking the potion, he did not ask. I was not sure I would have told him, in any case.
“It’s a shame you didn’t have any aconite for a more lasting slumber.” His eyes flashed dangerously bright as his fingers brushed the swelling on my temple and the cuts on my cheek and lip with aching tenderness. As he took my hand, his energy flowed into me with a tingling warmth, the last of my discomfort vanishing.
“Did he hurt you?” he ground out.
“No! It was his brother.” My stomach roiled, nauseated by the memory of Prince Wenshuang’s flesh against mine, his breath on my neck.
Shuxiao wrapped an arm around me in silent comfort, perhaps sensing my distress.
Liwei’s hands balled into fists. “This is my fault. His soldiers attacked me. I could not dispatch them quickly enough. You were gone. Only later did we discover where you were. I’m sorry . . . for not finding you sooner.”
“I escaped, I’m unharmed. As are you,” I said, trying to banish our unease. “And I have the pearls. That is what matters.”
The air stirred, churning with power, rolling in from the west—where the Demon Realm lay.
Terror engulfed me as I grabbed Liwei’s arm. It was not over. “We must leave. Now. Wenzhi’s army is close. Once you crossed the border, they planned to unleash an enchanted mist upon our army—one which would confound us. He still might; he’ll stop at nothing to retrieve the pearls. This far out, who would know the truth? Without witnesses, Wenzhi can claim anything he wants.” I cursed myself for not thinking of this earlier.
Liwei whirled, calling for his commanders, soldiers dispatched in search of them. After a brief wait, three generals hurried toward us, the sunlight gleaming off their helmets adorned with thick tassels of red silk. They were older than Liwei, one of them a distinguished-looking immortal with white streaks in his hair—General Liutan, who had often sent his soldiers to observe my archery practices in the field. As one, they bowed to Liwei, their palms covering their fists.
“This is an ambush. Gather the troops, make for home at once.” He spoke with firm authority.
The generals’ eyes slid to me, creased with suspicion. I lifted my chin higher, suppressing the urge to flinch. I had done nothing wrong; I had risked my life to warn them.
The shorter of the three, stepped forward. “Your Highness, where did you hear this? Your father’s command was that we remain at the border until we retrieved the dragons’ pearls.”
Liwei’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “First Archer Xingyin brought us this news.”
Someone snorted, I did not know who. General Liutan cast an accusing glare my way before saying, “Your Highness, we ask you to exercise caution. She is a spy for the Demon Realm.”
“I am no spy,” I said as steadily as I could, though their scorn and disbelief seared me. “Those lies were spread to keep the Demon Realm blameless for the theft of the pearls.”
I might as well have said nothing for all the good it did. General Liutan’s expression remained unchanged as he added, “Your Highness, spies are most skilled at protesting their innocence. Your father—”
“Enough,” Liwei interjected, his tone as sharp as a blade. “I trust First Archer Xingyin with my life, which she has saved more than once. Do you defy my command, General Liutan?”
The general’s face turned a sickly gray. All three of them sank to their knees at once. “We will obey, Your Highness.”
Liwei gestured for them to rise with a jerk of his hand. “There is little time to lose. The Demons will release a mist to confound us. Do not attack unless necessary. Conserve your troops’ energy for flight and to shield themselves.”
“The shields must be strong, woven tight.” The generals did not look my way as I spoke. Anger flashed through me but I plunged onward, ignoring their contempt. “Flight is the safest way, though the mist can be cleansed with wind or rain. Don’t inhale it. Just a single breath is enough to muddle you.” My voice faltered at the memory of my own disorientation, and how I had almost attacked the dragon.