General Liutan hesitated. “The pearls, Your Highness. What of them? Could this be a trick so we will leave empty-handed?”
“I have them,” I said, impatient to silence his doubts. Yet regretting the words when I caught the gleam in his eyes. “Not for much longer if we don’t make haste.”
“Spread the word. No more than two or three to a cloud, speed is essential,” Liwei ordered.
The generals bowed, before turning away, almost running in their haste.
“Liwei, we should go, too,” I urged.
“Not till the camp is cleared. But you . . . you must leave with the pearls,” he told me gravely.
My fingers grazed my silk pouch. I did not want to leave Liwei here, in danger. But he was right, I could not let Wenzhi take the pearls again. I had undertaken this burden, and it was mine to bear.
“Be careful. Don’t take too long or I’ll come back for you,” I said, more fiercely than intended.
“Is that a promise or a threat?” The corner of his lip quirked into a crooked smile. “I confess, my pride will be sorely wounded if you save me again.”
“Better wounded than dead.” My light tone masked my fear, but I trusted him to look after himself, and greater things than us were at stake.
Clouds swooped down from above. As Celestial soldiers leapt onto them, taking flight into the heavens, I exhaled with relief. But when a familiar syrupy sweetness drifted into my nostrils—I swung around, my body clenching in terror.
We were out of time.
36
An army of night soared toward us, led by Wenzhi, stony-faced and grim. How had we come to this? Just a few weeks ago he had fought by my side—and now, he was the enemy.
“Hurry, Xingyin!” Shuxiao threw her hand out, blazing with light. As a cloud dove down, she half dragged me onto it.
The wind lashed my skin, my hair streaming behind me. As we soared farther from the border, the desert rippled before us like a bolt of unraveled satin. I craned my neck, searching for Liwei among the fleeing Celestials, my spirits sinking to find no trace of him.
“I must go back,” I told her. “Something must have gone wrong.”
Shuxiao glanced over my shoulder, her body stiffening. “Xingyin, something is wrong.”
Behind us, slithering between the soldiers was the confounding mist, aglitter with bloodied stars as it streaked across the skies. With every moment, it drew closer, its tendrils grasping at all within reach. Fortunately, Shuxiao’s cloud was swift; we were at the fringes of it. And yet, even at that distance, a wave of dizziness still struck me. Hastily, I wove a shield over us, sealing it tight so not a wisp of the vile enchantment could slip through. The Celestials nearest to us followed suit, gleaming shields arcing over them as they sped away. But I watched in horror as the bulk of the army behind us—where the mist swirled thickest—ground to a stuttering halt.
“Shield yourselves!” I shouted to them, though my words were lost in the tumult.
Their eyes took on a glassy sheen, their movements jerking and uncertain. Ice glazed my insides, as a few of them began shaking their heads in seeming confusion, clawing at their throats. Some fell, writhing as they ripped their helmets away, tearing at their hair. One staggered to the edge of the cloud, and then—without hesitation—beyond, plummeting into the emptiness beneath. My scream slashed the air, even as I threw my power out to catch her. But I was too late as she vanished from sight, a dull thud rising from the ground.
I lowered my hand, shaking now. “Shuxiao, we must—”
As though she had read my thoughts, our cloud swerved, racing back toward the mist.
She shuddered, gesturing ahead. “What is this?”
“Mind magic. One of its more grotesque manifestations.”
“No wonder it’s forbidden,” she said fervently.
As we drew closer, the true extent of the horror revealed itself. I fought the urge to flee from the unfolding nightmare. Amid the roiling mist, some Celestials hurled bolts of ice and flame at each other, others attacking with weapons. One thrust his spear through his companion’s shoulder, its blood-drenched tip jutting from her flesh. But the victim neither cried out nor flinched, barreling forward to hurl her weight against her attacker as they fell, rolling right to the edge. On another cloud, three Celestials hacked away at each other with methodical abandon, their faces blank—seemingly numb to the pain—though their cloud was speckled with blood.
Sick to my stomach, an urge to retch gripped me. No matter what Wenzhi had claimed, there was a viciousness to this magic beyond any other. With friend turning upon friend, the cruelties inflicted were twice as sharp. A wicked torment that those fortunate enough to survive would be doomed to a lifetime of remorse and grief.