Page 2 of Immortal

Grandfather stroked the top of my head. “Accept the lotus. We’ll flee then, returning here once it’s safe.” He spoke with the rhythmic cadence of recounting a tale.

A crash erupted in the distance, the roof of a nearby hall caving in. Grandfather didn’t waver, pushing the lotus toward me. I hesitated, yet there was no one I trusted more. What did I have to lose? I was dying anyway.

I took the flower from him, cradling it in my hands. Warm to the touch, soothing the bitter chill in my body. The petals quivered, disintegrating into shining flecks that trailed toward me, vanishing into my chest. Warmth flashed, morphing into a feverish heat that surged through my veins. I buckled over, feeling as though the seams of my body were coming undone. A cry hovered but I bit my tongue, afraid to alert those we were fleeing from. One breath, then another. All the while, the blistering fire raged inside, followed by an icy numbness that left me unable to move or speak.

“Liyen!”

Someone called my name, Aunt Shou rushing into the courtyard. Part of her gray hair had unraveled from its coils, a jade hairpin dangling askew. Aunt Shou was one of my grandfather’s trusted confidantes, my mother’s closest friend—and another guardian to me after my parents’ death from illness. Though I’d been too young then to fully comprehend my loss, the memories of my father and mother still hazy like a half-formed dream, it always felt like something was missing from my life.

As Aunt Shou pressed a cool palm to my forehead, her son, Chengyin, joined us. He crouched down beside me, his brown eyes clouding with concern. Aunt Shou had adopted him as an infant, abandoned, possibly due to the birthmark across his temple. “Unlucky,” the soothsayers had proclaimed him, but Aunt Shou had ignored them all. Chengyin was my best friend now, despite our contentious childhood when he’d pulled my hair and laughed at me without an ounce of respect for my position. Only later did I realize what a gift this was, that he’d always seen me for myself.

“What’s wrong with Liyen?” Aunt Shou demanded. “Why can’t she move or speak?”

“I gave the Divine Pearl Lotus to her,” Grandfather said heavily.

The fine lines around Aunt Shou’s eyes creased deeper. “I thought you were keeping it for Queen Caihong,” she whispered. “Her Majesty is here for the lotus. She’s furious that you ignored her summons and is waiting for you in the main hall with the God of War. The immortals won’t cease their attacks until the lotus is surrendered.”

I stared in mute horror at my grandfather, remorse clawing me. While I’d suspected the lotus wasn’t of my world, maybe of magic forbidden to us . . . still, I’d taken it. I wanted to live. But I never expected it to have been stolen from the immortal queen.

Grandfather pressed a hand to his forehead. “Shou-yen, you’ve lost a daughter; you know the pain. Back then, if there was a chance of saving Damei—would you have hesitated?”

Aunt Shou closed her eyes. “I would have done anything I could.”

“As I did,” Grandfather said steadily. “I only learned about the antidote too late; the queen was already on her way. If I didn’t take the Divine Pearl Lotus, the immortals would—and Liyen would die. She is the last of my line; I couldn’t lose her too.”

“Why didn’t you ask Queen Caihong?”

“When have the immortals ever weighed our desires more than theirs? Queen Caihong’s command was clear; the lotus is precious to her. Moreover, her temper is volatile of late. If I’d asked, she would have refused, even been angered—and the chance to take it would be gone.”

Aunt Shou clasped her hands, her body drooping. “The immortals will show us no mercy. Their God of War will burn Tianxia to the ground.”

Grandfather lifted his head, silvered by moonlight. “I will confess and ask that the punishment fall on me alone. I was going to do so, after bringing Liyen to safety.”

No! Mine was a cry with no voice; I was a ghost in this moment, a shell. It was like my mind was awake but my body pinned down, leaving me helpless.

Aunt Shou gripped Grandfather’s sleeve. “You must be careful. What if they hurt you?”

“Then that is the price I’ll pay for my theft.” He patted her arm, then drew away. “I brought this calamity upon us. I will bear the penalty, even if it’s my life.”

“I spoke in haste. The gods will forget. They might forgive—”

“They will do neither.” Grandfather’s smile was so bright and resolute, it hurt. “You spoke the truth, my friend. You have always spoken the truth to me, even when no one else dared to—which is why your words bear weight.”

“What of Liyen?” Aunt Shou was pale. “You have to think of her, too.”

“I think of her always. It’s why I did this—to give her a chance,” he replied.

I flinched where I lay sprawled on the ground.

“What will happen if the immortals find her?” Aunt Shou asked. “What will they do to her if they discover the lotus?”

“You must hide Liyen until the Divine Pearl Lotus has merged with her body. Only then will its presence be concealed, and she can safely return here. Once the lotus has bonded with another, it cannot be seized—only gifted through a willing heart.” My grandfather touched Aunt Shou’s shoulder. “Can I count on you to look after her?”

I wanted to tell him to stay with us, that I’d gladly let the immortals pry their prize from my flesh if they’d let him go—but I had no voice to claim my thoughts, weeping tears that would not form.

“Yes.” Aunt Shou’s voice broke with emotion. “I will treat her as my own.”

Grandfather nodded. “Take her with you. Now. A safehouse has been prepared, south of the wall. I will delay the immortals to give you time to flee.”