Jade Fire Gold(26)
“Be careful who you trust.” She slips away before I can question her further.
The attendants stay half hidden in the shadows, not meeting my eyes, but the air is heavy with scrutiny. I get the sense I’m not supposed to talk to them, so I sink onto a chair and wait.
Minutes go by and the weariness from my long journey hits like a heavy sack of rice. My lids droop, even as I pinch my arm to stay awake.
Armor clinks and I startle. The two guards have moved into the parlor.
“Bow!” whispers an attendant from behind me.
I jump up.
“Presenting the Grand Premier Zhao Yang!” calls a voice.
Footsteps come closer, but I keep my head lowered.
“You may rise,” says a different voice. It’s commanding and hard like the blunt side of a hammer.
I straighten and see a man clad in white robes. A silver mask covers half his face while his uncovered side reveals a deep-set raven eye and an aquiline nose. He stares at me, expression transforming from one of curiosity to recognition.
“Ahn-er? It really is you.”
10
Altan
We leave the nomads the next day, traveling northward by the sun, our rucksacks filled with generous gifts of food that improve Tang Wei’s mood. The Wudin Mountains loom ahead of us, growing taller by the day.
I am getting closer to my goal, but Shenni’s words repeat in my head each night like a cipher I cannot solve. The heart is not a weakness. What did she mean? And what does it have to do with finding the sword of light or the Life Stealer?
We stumble upon a village at the base of the mountain range and spend a night at the local inn, stuffing our faces with a simple but hearty dinner. I manage to convince Tang Wei not to accompany me all the way up to Jiyu Spring, pushing back on all her protests. The trek is too dangerous, and besides, the seeker of the Phoenix must endure their journey alone.
Finally, she relents, saying that she will join me for the start of the climb. At dawn, we set off together.
Even in daylight, mist veils the craggy mountain peak, reminding me of the watercolor paintings that used to hang in the palace. I never had an aptitude for art, but my sister was drawing before she could write her first word. She would have been an accomplished painter if she had lived.
We stop at a barren ledge for a short rest.
“It’s an awfully long climb up to the top,” says Tang Wei, chewing on a piece of jerky.
And a long fall, I think, looking down.
“We should part ways here,” I say. “It’ll give you enough time to get back down by sunset.”
“You didn’t sleep well last night, did you? Maybe you should start your ascent tomorrow. This is a good place to set up camp.”
“No time to waste.” I snatch the jerky from her and tear myself a strip.
“Give it back!”
“You can spare me some. You’re going back to that nice little inn with the comfy bed.”
Tang Wei makes a face. “And I’m going to sleep for a thousand years.” Her expression turns serious. “How long do you think you’ll take?”
“I have no idea.”
She looks like she wants to say more, but instead, she punches me on the arm with more force than necessary. “Well, don’t die.”
“I won’t,” I say with confidence I don’t feel. “And if I do you can still say ‘I told you so’ to my corpse.”
“Don’t curse yourself.” She punches me again for good measure, lighter this time, and with something like affection. Then, with a sweep of her skirts, she leaps down the rocks like a mountain goat.
Alone, I continue my ascent. The slopes seem deserted, though my ears catch the sounds of wildlife. Perched high on tree branches, a family of golden snub-nosed monkeys observe me warily. Higher up, a thrush trills. I smell the sweet scent of blossoms and ripe fruit and remember the palace gardens I used to play in. Picturesque and tranquil, the Wudin Mountains are safe from the remnants of my great-grandfather’s dark magic.
For now.
If I do nothing to stop its spread, this paradise of flora and fauna will turn to dust.
The temperature drops the higher I go. I pull my fur-lined cloak snug around my neck, glad for my gloves. They keep my fingers warm and make it easier to channel my magic.
Tiensai magic works on the principle of qì, which is the most basic substance the world is comprised of. All living creatures and nature itself are connected by this constant cycle and flow of energy. And while all humans are born with a primordial qì, only those sensitive enough to the workings of this spiritual force can harness it as a form of energy and release it through meridian points at their fingertips.
Many Tiensai are born with a strong affinity for one of the five natural elements in our world: wind, water, fire, earth, and metal—which is extremely rare. Though I suppose, the life-stealing affinity is an anomaly outside of the five elements and the rarest of them all.
Few Tiensai can manipulate more than one element. Even fewer have true mastery over their core element for it takes years of cultivation. Most Tiensai are too busy running for their lives and hiding from the Diyeh.
I was fortunate to learn cultivation from Master Sun. Years of dogged training has made me accomplished in more than one element. Unsurprisingly, fire is my weakest affinity. It is the hardest element to control, and after all these years, when I think of fire, I think of my mother. I think of the priests.