Jade Fire Gold(91)

It wasn’t a dream, I think dully.

Altan releases me, fingers twined in my hair. He traces the scar on my cheek, his touch gentle, careful. Wonder lights his features. It’s as if he can’t believe I exist.

“I thought I lost you,” he says.

His expression shallows my breath. A fluttering births in my chest, like a hummingbird beating its wings in search of precious nectar. As the beat of wings grows faster and stronger, my heart soars. He draws me near, tipping my face up to his. I see vulnerability, fragile petals of hope blossoming.

No walls. No secrets.

We lean closer, a breath apart.

Something cold slips off my lap and falls onto the floorboards like metal on wood. Altan doesn’t notice, but I look down.

The fluttering in my chest dies. My heart plummets.

No. This is not a dream. This is a nightmare.

A sword lies between us.

Black as night, dark as hell.





39


Altan


Somewhere along the way, something went wrong.

I believed my heart to be a reliable organ. Believed my will to be resolute and immutable. Then, a girl from the desert walked into my life. A girl whose smile proved my heart weaker than I imagined. A girl whose strange gaze drowns me in starlight even as it offers me a lifeline.

A girl I sought to use, to wield as a weapon, but who became something else.

My faith in her was blind.

In the end, she is both my salvation and damnation.

That kernel of doubt in my mind splits open, a fruition of darkness and doubt. I was wrong. Or perhaps, I was right all along.

She has summoned the dark sword. It lies between us, like a calamitous scar.

“I don’t understand, I don’t understand . . . How?” Ahn repeats. She pushes me away and reaches for the sword.

“Get away from it.”

She shrinks back. Hurt and confused. There is a new chill in my voice that was never there before. Her eyes are fearful, but I see desire in them.

She wants the sword, but I can’t let her have it. I pick it up myself, watching her carefully.

Her gaze hardens. Hungry and vicious. Her jaw sets.

A flicker of loathing crosses her face.

And there is nothing I can do about it.





40


Ahn


I scream myself awake.

Cold sweat drips down my temples. I run a hand over my forehead and get out of bed, wrapping my cloak around me to preserve whatever warmth my body has. The top bunk is empty. My screams must have roused Tang Wei and sent her out of the cabin.

Almost two weeks have passed, and the ship is well on its way back to Cuihai Port with its crew a little worse for wear. Sails can be mended; bone and flesh will heal. But the invisible cuts and scars—those will linger. Even Captain Yan and Altan seem shaken. Only Tang Wei emerged completely unscathed, knocked out cold below deck when the ship was lurching. She gloated briefly, but I’ve a hunch she’s secretly disappointed she missed out on the action.

My nightmares have been distracting me from Ama’s fate. Now, in the quiet of the night, my worry returns. How long before we land at shore? How long before I can get to her? Is Ama even alive? She must be. My father will keep her alive for leverage.

You cannot escape your fate. The gods have chosen you for a reason.

I shiver. Have I been misled? Did my father know that it was the dark sword that was under the sea all this time? Should I have listened to Leiye and his warnings?

There’s no turning back time. I can’t undo what happened. The sword I have summoned is not the right sword. It isn’t a white iridescent jade. I don’t know if the legends and lore are wrong or maybe I’m unworthy, unfit to wield the promise of hope.

Even now, the dark sword calls out to me. I hear it. A soft thump-thump, like a living creature with a beating heart.

I remember the look on Altan’s face when he saw the Obsidian Sword at my feet. How cold he sounded. But I felt something, too.

An immanent desire.

The sword is mine.

That voice was feral, coming from the dark abyss of my own heart. The sword is now locked up in Captain Yan’s quarters, and the key hangs on a thick chain around his neck. I don’t know why they bother. It isn’t as if that would stop me if I truly wanted it.

And I want it.

A sob rises in my throat as that desire eats into me, eroding my defenses with each passing moment. My nails stab my palms, tearing into skin. But it doesn’t hurt as much as that hunger. That want. I grab a pillow to muffle my scream, the Dragon’s guttural roar echoing in my ears.

The sword will not be controlled.





41


Altan


A lonely figure leans against the gunwale, her billowing robes a pale turquoise like the ocean. Ahn goes rigid as I step next to her.

“What do you want?” Her voice is frostier than the wind.

You.

I match her coldness with my own. “I couldn’t sleep.”

A smile ghosts across her face. “Sometimes, I can’t decide if you’re a good liar or a terrible one.”

I don’t defend myself.

“I know you never trusted me,” she says. “I guess you were right not to, seeing that I’ve found the wrong sword.”

Will it be a lie or the truth if I counter her statement? Helplessly, I stare at her like a fool, remembering all the other times I stared at her like a fool, thinking that if all I did for the rest of my life was to stare at her like a fool, it wouldn’t be so bad.