It stilled, eight pairs of ruby eyes blinking rapidly. Just when I thought I had failed, that I had missed—a great shudder rippled through its body as its heads rolled back, its necks bunching up as it collapsed onto the ground. Dust billowed in the air.
The sudden silence was startling, devoid of the screams and gasps, the rip of flesh. We exchanged stunned glances, in disbelief that the horror had ended. That we were alive. Feimao slapped me on the back, his grin morphing into a grimace as he clutched his shoulder. Someone laughed, another cheered. A wooden smile stretched across my face even though I did not feel like celebrating. My arms were blistered raw, but my insides knotted at the sight of Captain Wenzhi. The parts of his body I could see were crusted with injuries far worse than mine.
“I’m sorry.” My voice was hoarse as I looked at Feimao and the other wounded soldiers. “I missed the first chance, I lost my nerve. If I hadn’t, if I—”
“Archer Xingyin, stop apologizing.” Captain Wenzhi sounded stern, though not unkind. “No battle is perfect; few things go as planned. What matters is that Xiangliu is dead and we all walk out of here today.”
He scrutinized my injuries, his lips tightening—in disapproval, I thought. Instead of admonishing me, he pulled out a small jasper bottle, scattering several drops of a yellowish liquid onto my arms. The soothing scent of mint and herbs cut through the foul air, a coolness seeping into my skin as the pain subsided to a dull throb.
“This only numbs it.” He passed me the bottle. “Don’t try to heal yourself. Xiangliu’s acid is laced with venom that needs to be treated properly. When we return, I’ll send a healer to you.”
“Send one to yourself, too. You’re in worse shape than me.” I nodded toward his wounds.
My legs wobbled then, belying my tough words as I sank to the ground. Struck by a wave of dizziness, I pressed my forehead against my arms. We had won, yet where was the exhilaration upon striking my target? There was undeniable relief that it was over, yes, but it was tangled with this clawing tightness in my chest. Was it pity? For the creature whose life I had taken? Even worse, and buried deeper, was there . . . shame? That I had killed so easily. And that I would do so again.
Captain Wenzhi crouched down beside me. “It gets easier,” he said, as though he could read my thoughts.
“I’m afraid of that, too,” I admitted haltingly.
“Xiangliu devoured countless mortals. If not stopped, he would have killed more.”
His words gave me comfort. At least enough for my breathing to slow and my tension to ease. Staggering to my feet, I glanced down at the serpent’s body. Blood trickled from its eyes, seeping into the ground. It was a monster—not because of its appearance—but what it had done. Grasping onto that, something hardened inside me. I would not mourn what I would do again, for as many times as I had to.
Just then, a strange sensation tugged at the edge of my consciousness. Swinging around, I glimpsed something bright, deep within the cave—only visible now the late sun shone through at this angle.
“Captain Wenzhi, what’s that farther in?”
His gaze followed mine. “Is it the glare from the light?”
“I don’t think so. Do you feel anything, coming from there?” I asked.
When he shook his head, I bit my lip, wondering if I was mistaken. Yet there it was still, that pull on my mind. That faint, elusive awareness.
“I’ll inspect it and make my way back later,” I decided.
“I’ll join you. What if Xiangliu has a sibling?” He cracked a smile.
I shuddered. “As long as it doesn’t eat mortals, we can leave it in peace.”
We slipped through the narrow passageway at the end of the cave, crossing a shallow stream before emerging in a cavern. A shaft in the ceiling allowed the sunlight through unhindered, striking a heap of glittering treasure. Ropes of pearls, jade ornaments, and gems the size of my fist were piled onto the ground, as carelessly as though they were twigs, leaves, and stones.
“What is this?” I asked, finding my voice.
“Plunder from Xiangliu’s victims?” Captain Wenzhi bent down to inspect a few of the items. “No, some of these are from our realm. Xiangliu must have brought them here.”
Picking up a small chest, I flipped its lid open. Inside lay a gold necklace studded with chunks of amber.
He lifted it up. “An amulet of Earth magic.”
“How do you know?” I asked curiously.
“Amber is a sacred treasure of the trees,” he explained, dropping it back into its box. “I’ll present this to His Celestial Majesty.”