Page 84 of Immortal

The god’s eyes closed, such radiance gliding over him—as though he was bathed in that golden hour of sunlight that gilds the mundane with rare beauty. Something stirred within me, an intimate awareness of our joined hands, a fleeting glimpse into him like a window thrown open—the scorching intensity of his emotions, the fire and passion that raged through him unabated. Just as suddenly, this awareness closed. A heat steadily built, his touch warming me as I’d once warmed him, forging something new between us: fragile and precious, chaotic and untamed. We stood a foot apart, yet I’d never felt closer to another . . . like we were one.

It was done; he was safe. I closed my eyes briefly, the tumult inside me calming. There was a void within where the Divine Pearl Lotus had once pulsed. Already, I missed it. Yet a profound peace slid into place, the weightlessness of a burden relieved. It had worked; he would be safe. The symptoms I’d suffered from the waters of death didn’t return, though I felt drained—an echo of that familiar heaviness in my limbs, the one that had plagued me in my childhood, though neither as deep nor consuming as before. Yet now if I ran from the Wuxin . . . they would catch me.

As I pulled the dagger out, my blood trailed from its tip, sliding down to fall into the earth. Zhangwei collapsed to the ground, eyes wide, his body unmoving. Did he feel as I had when I’d consumed the lotus, unable to move or speak as it bonded with me? I prayed this would pass, that the toll on an immortal body would be easier than on a mortal’s—it was far too dangerous here. Though his magic no longer spilled free, his aura blazed, the force of his presence strengthening.

I bent, touching his cheek. “How do you feel?”

He didn’t reply, his eyes fixed upon me, startlingly bright. His mouth twitched like he was trying to tell me something.

I grasped his hand. “This won’t last long; you’ll be well soon.”

The wind was glazed with a bitter chill, frost blooming across the ground like mold. My instincts recoiled, dread sinking over me.

They were here.

Terror spiked, needle-sharp and cold. If they found Zhangwei, defenseless, they’d kill him; they’d seize the lotus. I grabbed him under his arms, struggling beneath his weight. Panic yielded a burst of strength as I dragged him a short way to a thick grove of bushes—my breathing ragged with fear.

“Don’t make a sound. I’ll lead them away.” The words clogged my throat. He was always telling me to run, and now I was protecting him.

His eyes widened, the veins in his arm bulging as he strained. He didn’t want me to go. I placed my hand over his, relieved at its warmth. “You must wait until the lotus has merged with you. Don’t fight it, don’t let this all be for nothing.” I searched his face, wanting to remember every feature. “If I stay, we’re both dead anyway.”

I pushed myself to my feet, forcing myself to leave. I wasn’t trying to be a hero; I just wanted to give us a chance, to lead the Wuxin away until he recovered. They would follow my trail, believing I had the power they sought. Once they learned I didn’t, I’d pay a heavy price—but Zhangwei would come for me. I only hoped it wouldn’t take too long for him to recover.

I sprinted along the river, away from him, the wind tearing through my hair. The Wuxin were close, but I didn’t let myself turn, afraid to waste a single moment. I was already tiring, my chest clenched tight. Yanking off my outer robe, I thrust a fistful of stones into its folds, then hurled the bundle into the river. Silk arced through the air, plunging into the waters, scattering the reflected moonlight. A decoy to draw my pursuers away.

Footsteps padded; branches creaked. Several shadowy forms rushed toward the river. As they searched the waters, some diving into the depths, I backed away quietly, only turning to flee once I was out of sight.

I ran in a winding path, hoping to confuse anyone on my trail. Already my pace was slowing, exhaustion creeping over me. If only Zhangwei were here, or my soldiers. They might be close, as he’d said . . . and if so, I had to warn them of the Wuxin.

Deeper in the forest I stopped to catch my breath, leaning against a tree as I fought the urge to retch. My mind urged me onward. In the dark, the trees seemed to close tighter around me, ominous and oppressive.

“Liyen!” It was Chengyin’s voice. He dashed from the trees ahead, his eyes going wide at the sight of me. His dark-red robe was torn and stained, like he’d come in a rush. “You’re safe. I was so worried.”

I could have wept with relief, even as my pulse stuttered unevenly. “What are you doing here, Chengyin? Weren’t you meant to stay at court? Is there trouble at home?” I kept my voice hushed as I glanced around. “The Wuxin are chasing me.”

His expression turned grim as he whispered, “Our scouts reported more of them were sighted around Kunlun, searching for something.”

“Someone,” I corrected him after a pause.

“I suspected as much, which was why I sent more soldiers here and joined them myself.” He hesitated. “I hope you’re not angry. I didn’t want to disobey your order, but I was concerned about you.”

I shook my head, glad to see him. “Who is heading the court now?”

He grinned. “Minister Hu is appointed the acting First Advisor, leaving Minister Guo apoplectic with rage. He took to his bed in protest, and let’s hope he remains there.”

I suppressed a laugh. “Thank you for looking out for me, my friend.”

“Always,” he said somberly, his eyes bright. “If you die, who will appoint me as the Minister of Revelry?” He bent to study my face. “Are you well? You look pale.”

“I’m fine,” I assured him, though my nerves were still frayed. “Where are the soldiers?”

He jerked his head eastward. “They’ve made camp over there, but I came this way because I heard something. You made enough noise to wake an elephant.” His mouth pursed as he asked, “Where is the God of War? Why isn’t he with you?”

Chengyin and I had few secrets from each other. Yet what had passed between Zhangwei and me felt private, for us alone. And I dared not tell him that the god was vulnerable now, for who knew who was listening in the dark?

“We were separated. When the Wuxin came, I ran,” I said.

A clash broke out from behind us, the night illuminated by streaks of fire. The familiar rush of Zhangwei’s magic surged through the air—the force of his might far stronger, unhindered at last.