Jade Fire Gold(22)

I take the stick. He unsheathes a dagger and starts to heat the blade. The flames that spring from his fingers dance prettily, orange-red and blue in the center. I stare, fascinated.

Horrified.

A priest is saving my life.

His flames grow bigger and I hiss in fright.

“One must not fear fire to wield it. That is the first thing we are taught.”

“I wasn’t brought up in your little priest school,” I snap. “In my world, your fire destroys, and it takes the lives of people we care about.”

A flicker of emotion passes over his face, but he says nothing. When the metal is hot enough, he extinguishes his flames. “Hold still.”

I suck in my breath, squeeze my eyes shut, and bite down on the stick.

The first touch draws a loud gasp from me. A sweet charred smell rises in the air. I bite down harder, tears streaming down my cheeks. With quick taps, Leiye places the hot blade onto my leg again and again, until the entire wound is treated.

“It’s done.”

I open my eyes to see his ashen face. It’s like he felt my pain every single time he burned my flesh.

“How is it?” I ask, wiping my eyes with my sleeve. I can’t bear to look myself.

“It’ll have to do for now. We have to go.”

“Where?”

“The capital. But first, we’ll find you a physician.”

He helps me back on the horse and ties me to him. My lightheadedness returns, so I lean against him, not caring how close I am to a monster. After all, he’s protected me this far.

We ride at a brutal pace. My leg feels like it’s still burning, like it’s covered with hot coals, the pain radiating from the wound. As I drift into sleep, I realize that a permanent scar will form from Leiye’s actions.

I’ve been marked. Branded.

By the flames of the Diyeh.

We find a physician in the next town and upon seeing Leiye’s substantial money purse, the man offers us two rooms for the night. He cleans my wound with some herbal mixture and wraps a damp bandage around it to keep the heat down. Leiye watches in silence, expression unreadable. When the physician is finally done, sleep grabs me and pulls me in.

It’s mid-morning when a knock on the door wakes me. Leiye enters and hands me a small bundle of clean clothes, placing a bamboo rack of steamed shrimp chángf?n drenched in soy sauce, two custard buns, and a bowl of fresh figs on the table.

He has shed his priest robes and changed into an ivory hànfú. The Diyeh cuff around his topknot is gone, replaced by a simple silver band. Half of his long black hair falls behind his shoulders, an emerald ribbon intertwined with that single white streak running down the middle of his back. His face is clean, and in the daylight, I notice how large his wide-set eyes are and how young he actually is—he can’t be more than two years older than me.

The sight jars me. He looks too gentle, too soft. Like someone who should be reciting poetry by a lake instead of tearing families apart or burning people alive. It makes me wonder what the Diyeh do to their recruits to turn them into vicious monsters.

“What happened to your priest outfit?” I ask in between greedy bites of the rice rolls. The shrimp inside is fresh and sweet, and with the pain from my leg now a dull throb, my mood has improved.

Leiye sits across from me, rolling a coin over his knuckles, long legs stretched out. “We need to keep a low profile.”

I raise an eyebrow, but he doesn’t elaborate.

“Thanks for saving my life last night,” I say reluctantly. “Do you know if Lieutenant Bao survived? He was nice to me.”

“I don’t know if there are other survivors. I did not pay attention to them. My only duty is to protect you.”

“Why?”

“Orders,” comes his terse reply.

“From the Diyeh? But Lieutenant Bao says your war minister wants to see me.” I cling on to the hope that Leiye will bring me to the premier and not the priests who will surely put me to death.

Leiye stays silent.

“What does a politician want with me? After last night, I think I deserve some answers,” I press.

Ignoring me, he helps himself to the fresh figs. I pop a custard bun into my mouth, crunch the paper wrapping into a ball, and chuck it at him.

Leiye catches it effortlessly without even lifting his head, looking amused by my pathetic attack.

“Don’t you think I should know why people are trying to kill me?” I say, voice raised. I don’t care if the physician can hear us. For all I know, he has his ears pressed up against the door to this room. My fear has turned into frustration. I will force answers out of this boy-priest. “Why were those men after me? And why did that man call me a life stealer?”

“Because he was a Tiensai, and that is what you are to them. It isn’t a term we use.”

We? Does he mean the Diyeh?

“I don’t understand,” I say.

“Have you heard of the blacksmith and the twin swords?”

“The fairy-tale mothers tell their children to warn them about taking things that don’t belong to them?”

“It’s not a fairy tale.”

I laugh, the sound too loud in the quiet room. Leiye steeples his fingers and casts me a cold look. I stop laughing.

“What do you mean?”

“Tell me the story,” he says simply. I purse my lips. “Go on, indulge me.”