Jade Fire Gold(35)

“No, I don’t,” I say too quickly, refusing to admit how close he got to the truth.

“It’s all right to be scared. Magic can be dangerous. A little fear will keep you disciplined.”

I try not to shiver.

“Martial arts would help with your cultivation. It allows you to understand your own body, how it works, its limits—your limits. Only then will you know how far you can push yourself and when to stop.”

“Are you going to train me in martial arts?”

“Of course not. It takes years and we don’t have time. What you lack in physical strength you will just have to make up with magic.”

I cross my arms, teeth cutting into my inner cheek. “What do you propose we do then?”

“First, we test you.” He points at the bucket and bronze bowl. “Earth, water, wind, fire, or metal—the five elements. We already know about your life-stealing magic, but I think it’d be useful to know what other affinities you may have so that we can start by working on those first until you grasp the full extent of your power.”

“If my life-stealing magic is the one that will help me find the sword, why don’t we start with that first?” I say without thinking.

“Because you might steal the life of everything around you.”

I stop breathing for a moment. That’s why Leiye brought me here. That’s why he cleared out the compound. So that if I lose control of my magic, no one else will be harmed—or killed.

No one else but him.

My father entrusted me to Leiye, not only because of his belief in Leiye’s abilities.

He did so because to him, this boy is expendable.

“But you are here,” I whisper, suddenly bone cold.

“Sacrifices have to be made, Lady Zhao,” says Leiye, utterly serious. “After all, we are trying to save the world.”





13


Altan


In the desert, when the moonrise meets the sunset, the world is bathed in beauty. Turn your head to one end of the horizon and you will see bands of cool blues and purples from the deepest indigo to the palest lilac. Glance the other way and the sky bleeds warm tangerine to rosy coral. Look up and the two worlds meld seamlessly into each other, clasping their vibrant fingers into a prayer.

I rouse to that very sky above me, groggy and confused. I’m not in the cavern anymore. There is no spring, no water anywhere. Is this a dream? Or a vision sent by the Soul Beast?

I hear my mother’s voice, singing a soft refrain from an old lullaby. I see an eight-year-old boy lying on the sand, looking up. One of his eyes is golden and glinting. A little girl with a cheeky grin is next to him. Suddenly, she bursts into giggles.

Shhh, Mother’s asleep, says the boy. He points at the first of the twinkling stars. That one. If we follow it and head northeast, we will find our way home.

The girl snorts, laughter gone. We don’t have a home anymore, Jin.

The boy sits up, his expression pained. We will always have a home, as long as we’re together. We’ll find our way back—don’t give up.

The girl whispers back fiercely, I will never give up. We will find Father’s murderer. We will take back what’s ours. We will go home. She squeezes the boy’s hand. As long as we’re together.

I blink, and they vanish. I am alone again, a biting pang in my heart.

There are bones on the sand a few paces from me. A bird’s skeleton, just like the one in the cavern. They rattle, slowly floating up. Before my eyes, a giant bird morphs to life. It shimmers, translucent against sand and sky. But there is no mistaking its resplendent pheasant head and indigo and emerald peacock tail.

The Phoenix.

It gazes at me, feathery lashes fluttering over large gold-flecked irises. Its beak opens and dulcet tones echo.

I know why you are here.

In my head, the Soul Beast sounds like Mother.

“Then you must know what I want,” I say.

The path of vengeance is a dark one. There must be balance in this world, and in a person. You should keep the light in you while it remains. There are other ways to find peace. Your way requires a sacrifice that you may find too great to bear.

“I am not afraid. This is the only way.”

The Phoenix raises a leg, touching its claw to my forehead. I gasp as pain erupts. Exhumed memories staccato in my mind: a boy with both eyes intact, one a deep amber-gold; the boy with a blade in hand, raising it to his face; an old man with a snowy white beard running into the room, too late to stop what is about to happen . . .

Why did you do that? asks the old man later. The boy lies in bed, face flushed, brow sweaty, the bandages around his head and eye stained with blood.

I don’t want to be like him, he replies, face twisted in pain.

The old man sighs. Even if you have inherited his eyes, even if his blood runs true in your veins, Yuan Long’s affinity does not run in you. My boy . . . remember, you are not your great-grandfather. You are not the Life Stealer.

The boy says nothing. Grinding his teeth, he reaches a shaky hand toward his own face before abruptly drawing it back, not yet able to come to terms with what he had done.

The memory fades.

The Phoenix removes its claw and the pain in my head dissipates. Hunching over, hands on thighs, I force myself to breathe. Force myself to forget again.

How much more can you lose, child? the Phoenix says softly.