Page 118 of Immortal

Wings fluttered as a bird swooped down to snare a dragonfly in its beak. As the tip of its wing brushed the liquid in the gateway, a crackling tore through the calm. The marble arch blazed, the lights from the gateway surging along the bird’s wing, spreading across its body like a web of fine cracks. It flapped its wings desperately yet could not take flight, caught in the throes of this merciless spell. As it shivered, the creature folded in on itself, bones crunching, feathers scattering—like it was being crushed alive. Piteous cries rang out, then faded abruptly as its struggles weakened, until all that remained of the bird was its mangled form.

I shuddered, many of the soldiers turning pale. A gruesome death for any who touched the gateway—our fate should we fail to cross it safely.

Dalian grinned like he sensed my fear. “You’re wise to be afraid. Don’t make any foolish mistakes; just do as you’re told.”

I wrestled with my anger, to keep my tone soft. “I don’t know what to do,” I said, to draw this out.

Dalian offered me a scythe with an amber hilt, nodding toward the stairway that was cut into the wall, wide enough for one. It led to the top of the arch, close enough to touch it—though who would dare after seeing the bird’s end?

“Cut the vines away. Once they are cleared, channel your power to break the archway.” When I didn’t move, he seized my hand, thrusting the scythe into it. My skin was as cold as his.

“Don’t fail me,” he growled before releasing me.

I gripped the scythe, wishing I could thrust it into his chest. Not yet. I turned, wrenching my mind from the terror that tangled my thoughts. With the weight of all eyes upon me, I made myself climb the stairway. My foot slipped once as I fell, intentionally, the scythe clattering to the ground.

As a soldier rushed to hand it back to me, Dalian’s face creased with rage. “Another ‘accident,’ and I’ll have Captain Rao accompany you.”

My stomach churned at the thought. Not daring to falter again, I ascended the stairs steadily this time. At the top, I looked down, my head swimming. Soldiers swarmed this pale wedge of soil, the boats that had landed away from the inlet, dotting the river behind like beads of foam. I was surrounded, trapped—despair sinking its fangs into my heart.

“I’m afraid,” I whispered to myself.

Saying it aloud was a release . . . an admission, a forgiveness of myself, my flaws and shortcomings. Fear need not be a burden when it could be harnessed into a desire to live. Hope possessed a magic of its own—rare to manifest, yet wresting miracles within one’s reach.

Calm spread over me, my mind clearing. The sweetness of the wisteria was stronger here, almost intoxicating. Each petal was veined with silver as though traced in stardust. Thick vines looped and curled in front of me, each culminating in a cluster of flowers. My hand shook as I brushed the vine closest to me, ignoring the thorns that pricked me, their tips stained with my blood. I lifted the scythe gently to the vine, a tentative touch to appease Dalian. Yet the moment the blade grazed it, light rippled from my fingers—the scythe drawing my magic against my will, flowing into the plant. A clump of wisteria fragmented, petals drifting away like dandelion seeds. A segment of the vine fell into my hand, heavy and limp, like uncoiled rope. The gateway shuddered, the darting lights in the water stilling as a metallic scent thickened the air. With a wrench, I halted the surge of my power, numbed with horror at what I’d done—inadvertently weakening the gateway I was trying to protect.

A cheer rose from the Wuxin—the sound bringing me back to the Temple of the Crimson Moon, the moment my despicable manifestation destroyed the gateway. I swallowed hard, fighting down a burst of queasiness. This had to end; I’d drawn it out for as long as I could. But suddenly my skin warmed with a new awareness, my heart lifting though I didn’t know why. As I glanced up, something on the far side of the mountain caught my eye: a flutter of black brocade.

It was Zhangwei, standing on a ledge across from me. Relief swept through me that he was safe; he was here. Yet there were too many soldiers to fight—even more making their way through the mountains. I needed to create a diversion, something to give us a chance.

The curtain of liquid flowed like molten crystal through the gateway, light dancing over its surface. A sliver of an idea unraveled, barely enough to be woven into any coherent plan, but I would grasp at the thinnest thread.

Magic flowed from my fingers toward the gateway, this time upon my command. Yet the waters did not shift, nor did the lights flicker. If they were impervious to magic, what about something of its own? My fingers tightened around the vine, almost welcoming the sting of the thorns, jolting me from my numbing fear. I grasped my magic, my gaze sliding to Zhangwei’s, then to Lin and Mei—praying they would catch my meaning—while Aunt Shou and Dalian remained a distance behind. Drawing a deep breath, I hurled the vine down, right through the shimmering gateway. It sank through the liquid, splashing the surface, delicate sprays of water arcing wide. Dalian and Aunt Shou scrambled further to safety, while Lin and Mei shielded themselves. And Zhangwei had vanished.

Screams of anguish erupted, punctured by a ferocious crackling. The soldiers closest to the gateway collapsed, clawing at their faces, tearing at their armor. The lights of the gateway swarmed mercilessly across them—as they had over the bird—blazing with vicious brightness, devouring the soldiers whole. As they twisted and writhed in the throes of death, I looked away, sickened by their torment, at what I’d done. Most were simply following orders, but they would have killed me without hesitation if commanded to. I would not trade my life for theirs.

Captain Rao sprinted forward, unfortunately unscathed, his sword drawn as he headed toward me. Lin and Mei raced to block him, but more soldiers closed around them. As Dalian and Aunt Shou hurried to the shoreline, I rushed down the narrow stairway—but Captain Rao blocked my path.

I backed away, trapped—my only weapon, the scythe. Swiftly, I channeled a shield over myself as Captain Rao reached the ledge, advancing toward me menacingly. “I knew you were lying about the transformation. I told Lord Dalian as much, but he was blinded by his desire to open the gateway.”

“And I knew you were a vile snake, the day you tore out my soldier’s heart,” I spat.

His eyes slitted with rage. “Let’s see what color your heart is once I’ve ripped it from your chest.”

Fury roiled, eclipsing my terror. “You’ll never get that far.”

As he slung his sword at me, I ducked, slashing out with the scythe. It was too short, Captain Rao evading with ease as he thrust his blade at me again. I threw my scythe up to catch his blow, straining beneath the force. He was stronger, more skilled, with the better weapon—but I couldn’t give up.

I dropped my arm without warning, darting to the side. As he staggered forward, thrown off balance, I raced for the stairs. He lunged at me, grabbing at my ankle—but someone sprang between us, flinging the captain aside with brutal force. Zhangwei stood there, his eyes blazing with wrath. Such relief swept through me, such joy. Without looking away from the captain, Zhangwei tossed me my sword, my fingers closing gratefully around the black jade hilt.

“The God of War,” Captain Rao snarled, pushing himself to his feet.

“Touch her again and you’ll die.” Zhangwei’s voice was dangerously taut as he lifted his blade, pointing it at the captain. “But for what you did, I’ll kill you anyway.”

I straightened, unsheathing my sword. “I’ll kill him myself.”

Captain Rao’s eyes fixed on Zhangwei’s weapon, shining with power, the color draining from his face. When the captain charged at him, Zhangwei didn’t evade, instead slamming a fist into his face. The captain went sprawling to the ground, blood oozing from a cut on his cheek. He blinked wildly as though stunned—the ferocity of Zhangwei’s blow shocking me too.

As Captain Rao fled down the stairs, Zhangwei leapt from the ledge to land gracefully on the ground. His sword arced to slash at the captain again and again, Captain Rao swinging his weapon in defense—his movements growing clumsy and frantic. As the captain turned and ran away, Zhangwei stalked after him—but other Wuxin soldiers surrounded him now. As they closed in on him, he kicked one, then punched the next, the shove of his elbow sending a third flying. He brawled as well as any mortal, like he’d been born to it.