Jade Fire Gold(55)

Friend. That word is loaded with layers of meaning.

“Are we really still friends?” I don’t know if I want to know his answer. I don’t know what my answer would be if he asked me that question.

He looks at me, slate-gray eyes open and frank. “No, but we can be allies. Know that you can rely on me. Don’t question my motives, and I won’t spill your secrets.”

Seconds tick by.

I see the tensed line of his shoulders, how his feet are spread, the turn of his wrists. He thinks I may yet attack him. I always beat him when we were children, but I suspect he was deferring to me because I was royalty. He was a cultivation prodigy and magic came easy to him. I’m not sure who will emerge victorious if we spar now.

“I will listen to what you have to say.”

He relaxes visibly.

I let him speak without interruption. When he is finally done, I keep my face impassive and unreadable. If he’s searching for a sign, I’m giving him nothing.

“I’ll be at our old spot a week from now,” he says. “Same time. If you’re there, it means you’re in.”

“If I’m not?”

He doesn’t answer. I watch as he puts his mask back on. He strides to the edge of the roof, pausing for a moment. That white streak in his hair that appeared after his magic manifested gleams in the moonlight. He gives me a final, lingering look and plunges down.

A cool breeze flutters my robes as I weigh my decision, the voice of my once best friend, Xima Leiye, repeating in my mind.

Know that you can rely on me.





20


Ahn


Sunlight can’t find its way into this place.

There isn’t a window in this cell. Just stone and iron and a line of torches along the corridor, which are my main source of light. The irony of it doesn’t escape me. My control of water or wind can’t help me here. Leiye must’ve kept my father informed about my inability to manipulate fire or metal. And my father already knows I can’t use my life-stealing affinity, so the guards he posted here are safe.

At first, I tried to speak with the guards, pleading with them to let me out. Telling them I’m not a criminal or a Tiensai. Asking them to bring my father here. But to no avail. Now, I say nothing at all.

I begin to lose track of the nights and days. Sleep comes and goes. Often, it’s filled with snatches of memories from my childhood. Of Ama and of the desert.

Always, the desert.

I start to think I’m back in the priests’ wagon again. That I’m being sent to my execution. Then I see the beautiful shoes on my feet, feel the smooth silk of my rúqún—both filthy now, of course—and even though I hardly touch the food I’m given, I can tell that it’s been freshly prepared to keep me well nourished.

That’s when I remember why I’m here.

My father wants to keep me alive because I hold the key to what he truly desires: the sword of light. I don’t know if the sword can put a halt to the desert, but I do know that if someone like my father wants it, it can only mean trouble.

I’m sending some men out west. You should be happy that I’m keeping my word.

Those were his last words to me before he locked me up here. In my naive eagerness to have Ama live with me, I made a mistake in telling him everything about my village. Now, he has leverage to get me to do his bidding.

And he knows exactly who to threaten.

The courageous thing to do would be to kill myself. A quick brutal slam against the stone walls would crack my skull. And maybe the world will be safe from my father’s machinations.

But I am a coward.

All I can do is starve myself until I’m too weak to wield any magic, and there’s nothing my father can do.

I stir as I hear footsteps approaching. Is it time for yet another meal I’ll refuse? Or has my father finally decided to show his face? He hasn’t come to see me since he put me here. For some reason, that bothers me more than it should.

It’s Leiye.

He’s carrying a tray of food. Strange that he’s the one bringing me my meal today when it’s normally a guard. He makes a gesture at the guards and one of them unlocks the small opening between the gates of my cell and he reaches in to place the tray onto the ground.

“Leave us,” Leiye commands.

Without questioning him, the guards click their boots together and file out of the dungeon. Leiye slips his hand through the iron bars and pushes the tray of food closer to me. I hear a soft sigh from him as I remain shadowed in the corner, lying on the cold ground.

“Eat something. You need your strength.”

“No. I don’t.” I keep staring blankly at the cracks in the unfinished ceiling.

“What are you going to do? Starve to death?”

I shrug, just to annoy him. “Maybe.”

He grabs a bar, white-knuckled, whispering, “I need you to stay alive.”

I struggle to sit up and look at him. In the harsh light of the dungeon, his face loses its softness. Hard edges to match steely eyes. Dark circles under them. Is he having trouble sleeping? Murdered too many innocent people? Maybe he has nightmares, too.

I could ask him about the book he stole from my father’s study, but I don’t care anymore. Not when everything has crumbled around me.

“At least, eat the rice.” He adds with deep emphasis, “Please.”