Sacrifice (12 page)

“You please me very well. I am simply otherwise occupied right now.” He jumped to his feet, and she leaned back in surprise. “It is a bad time. For me.” Master Bei inclined his head a little before leaving her staring after him as he stalked away on those strange and small feet.

What had she gotten herself into? It was too good to be true. A rich, indulging husband who didn’t expect her to give herself in the marriage bed. Did he not want children? Surely this was important to him after losing his entire family?

A lover then. He already had a lover. One that wasn’t an appropriate match in station, so Zhen Ni could have her respite for now.

She rose and bent over the large cedar wood chest, incredibly plain compared to the rest of the furnishings in the reception hall. She lifted the lid and let out a long breath. The chest was filled with gold and silver coins—more money than she had ever laid eyes on. She ran her fingers through the coins, to be certain they were real. They clinked and thunked heavily against each other. Plucking an individual gold coin from the rest, Zhen Ni studied it. It was unlike any other coin she’d ever seen. She squinted at the marking—it was nearly five hundred years old.

Sifting through the chest, she saw more old silver and gold coins ranging from a few hundred years old to almost eight hundred. Zhen Ni chewed on her lower lip and sunk down to the cold stone floor, not caring she was in her robe and behaving in the most unladylike manner.

Who exactly was this man she had married?

And what did he hide in that secret compartment in the empty study?

Skybright

The rent in the air revealed brilliant blue skies and a glimpse of lush gardens, a scene entirely different from the shadowed alleyway they had huddled in. After Stone led her through the portal, the crackling noise and pinging against Skybright’s skin seemed to last longer than the previous times. Her world was so suffused in rich indigo that her eyes seemed to pulse with it.
One, two, three
… She counted slowly until panic began to surge in her chest. Stone squeezed her fingers, and she was reluctant to admit that it reassured her. He knew what he was doing. It wasn’t until she reached twenty-three and her skin was tingling as if bees crawled all over her body that they stepped through to the other side.

The deep perfume of roses, sweetness of orange blossoms, and the sharpness of mint filled her first. Beneath the earthy richness of the soil, there was a subtle fragrance—ethereal—her serpentine senses had never encountered before, as fresh morning dew would smell, mingled with spring sunshine. They had stepped out onto a broad cobblestone path made of a clear, green jade, more extravagant than anything she had ever seen. “What is this place?” she whispered in awe.

“I have been summoned to The Mountain of Heavenly Peace by the Goddess of Accord,” Stone said.

“We are … I am where the gods dwell?” She gaped at him, disbelieving. But where else except in the heavens would the fragrances be so crisp, the colors so true and intense? “Do you visit here often?” She had to ask. Stone had taken her into the depths of hell; she had no inkling he could bring her into the heavens as well. Truly, how powerful was he?

Stone smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. “Unlike the underworld, I must be invited in order to enter Heavenly Peace. It is not a place that is usually open to me.”

“But why were you summoned?”

“I believe the goddess wants to speak with me about the Great Battle that just ended. I was granted permission to bring you with me.”

She almost reached out to clutch his arm. “Am I to meet the goddess too?” Skybright had become accustomed to the grotesque visions and monstrosities that emerged from hell. But this, this was something else entirely. She drew a hand to her breast and pressed it against the soft fabric of her silk dress. “How should I address her? How do I behave?”

“There is no need to feel anxious. I will introduce you to the Goddess of Accord. You can pay your respect by bowing to her.” Stone smiled again, this time more genuinely. He seemed pleased by her awe.

They continued down the curved path, walking side by side. She caught glimpses of green meadows tucked behind peach trees, filled with wildflowers in vibrant oranges and fuchsias, so bright they dazzled her eyes. A soft lapping of water caught her attention, and she craned her neck, seeing the clear green of a pond in the distance, hidden behind ornamental pine trees.

She stopped, her hands gripped at her sides, as if she were playing some childhood game of stop and go. “Is that a dragon?” she whispered.

Stone paused and followed her gaze.

A beast with shimmering light blue scales had its head dipped in the water, drinking from the pond. Small red horns protruded from the top of its head, and long whiskers in dark blue, gray, and white curled from its pointed snout. It was the length of a grown man, with a pair of short, sturdy legs near the front and back of its body.

“Ah,” Stone said. “A
fei long
. A very young one. The flying dragons often whelp here under the gods’ protection.”

“It’s a baby?” she asked, then incredulously, “It can fly?”

Stone nodded, studying the amazing creature. “Many of the dragons can fly. But the
fei long
dwell in the skies, among the clouds. That one will grow to more than twenty times its current length.”

The young flying dragon stopped drinking and shook itself as a dog would. Its whiskers splattered droplets all around, and its sinuous body undulated up and down like waves upon the sea. It wiggled, obviously taking pleasure in it.

Skybright clasped her hands in front of her to stop herself from clapping. “It is beautiful.” She shook her head in disbelief. “It’s wondrous.”

“Many more fantastic creatures from Xian lore dwell upon this peak. But not all are as benign as the
fei long
. Let us not disturb him,” he said. “They are shy creatures unused to human contact.”

They walked on. Skybright simply turned her head this way and that, even tilting it toward the sky, trying to take in all the colors, sights, and smells. Leaves rustled overhead as a gentle wind stirred the loose strands of her hair from her face.

Finally, Stone stopped before a pavilion with golden walls supported by jade pillars. Its curved roof was tiled in red, and grand jade steps led up to an expanse of gold wall where the entrance should have been. She examined the intricate carvings on the jade columns with strange beasts of lore: dragons and winged birds with human heads gliding among the clouds. She and Stone walked up the pristine steps. When they stood in front of the wall, it was quite clear to her that the pavilion was hewn from solid gold.

She swallowed hard, the enormity of the situation settling in—she would be face to face with a true goddess. Skybright tucked errant strands of hair behind her ears, and smoothed damp palms over her paneled dress.

Stone pressed his fingertips against the wall and it disappeared, revealing an empty, rectangular hall supported by more jade columns. He stepped inside and Skybright quickly followed. Within a breath, the gold wall shimmered back into existence, blocking them from the lush garden beyond.

She couldn’t see for a long moment as her eyes adjusted to the cool, dim interior. When her sight returned fully, she was amazed by the vastness of the space. Surely, this was a palace of some kind. The roof was much taller than it appeared from the outside. It reached so high the walls turned from gold to azure blue that softened and slowly faded into white, giving the illusion that the ceiling opened into the skies.

A stream wound its way through the palace. The clear water trickled over rocks and pebbles in every color imaginable. The melodic trill of a songbird caught her attention. The chamber was empty of furniture except for the bird’s golden cage, large enough that she could stand within. She had never seen a bird such as this. It regarded her with emerald eyes that flashed exactly like the jewels set in Zhen Ni’s hairpins. Its body was covered in lavender plumage while its wing feathers were a brilliant turquoise. The bird wasn’t bigger than the palm of her hand but had tail feathers the length of her forearm in a deep, shimmering gold, tipped in emerald. She leaned in and squinted at the bird’s gorgeous tail. Small emerald stones actually dangled at the ends of some of its golden tail feathers.

Cocking its head, the bird looked Skybright in the eye and burst into another melody so full of yearning her chest ached.

“She sings what she sees in your heart,” Stone said.

Skybright turned toward him. He had changed wardrobe again, dressed in his armor of silver and gold, etched in crimson. He was walking along the length of the stream, hands clasped behind him. Relaxed. As if this incredible chamber was one he visited every day.

“It would appear that you are forlorn, Skybright.”

Wrenched from the only life she ever knew, never again to see her mistress and first love. Forced to travel through all the realms with an enigmatic immortal until he tired of her … the bird truly was singing the song of her heart.

“How do you know it isn’t a song of your heart?” she asked quietly.

“I do not feel deeply enough for the bird to sing with such fervor.” He came and stood near her. “I am sorry that you are sad.”

“But not enough to give me my freedom.”

Stone slanted a glance toward her, and her heart jumped when their eyes met. She hated that she was still so drawn to him. “And where would you go? Back to your mistress as a humble handmaid?” He caught her arm and pulled lightly so that they faced each other. As always, she felt the heat of his touch, even though he grasped her silk sleeve. “Who would you be?’

Her lips parted, but she had no inkling what she would say. Without warning, the gold walls began to tremble, then shudder violently. She had felt earthquakes before—minor ones which left her unsteady on her feet and a strong one that had jolted all the jars from Zhen Ni’s vanity—but she had never experienced anything like this. The walls vibrated and rippled in turn, knocking her from her feet. She gawked at the walls in horror, as the gold seemed to have liquefied, streaking in shimmering ropes.

The songbird sang in strident tones, more like screams of distress than a melody. It hopped from one dark branch to the next, the lavender feathers around its throat ruffled so that it appeared bigger. Then it spread its wings, beating them in time to its fearful cries. Somehow, this was the most terrifying thing of all, as if its song could worm its way into her heart.

Stone stood firm on his feet, towering over her. The water in the river was bubbling until large drops leaped into the air, as if its temperature had been brought to a boil.

Skybright cowered with her hands covering her head, the thudding of walls seizing her own heartbeat, so strong she could feel it in her teeth. She feared the ceiling would cave and bury her beneath. “What is happening?” she shouted at Stone.

He didn’t spare her a glance but instead stared straight ahead toward the far end of the long hall.

A goddess shimmered into view. There was no mistaking her divinity. First appearing to be twice as tall as any mortal, the goddess’s form wavered as if she stood behind a waterfall, then became the same height as Stone—still taller than any mortal woman Skybright had ever encountered. She couldn’t help but stare at the goddess’s face in rapture: flawless and beautiful, her features emanated serenity. Yet there was a cold aloofness there, the feeling that although the goddess might seem mortal in her appearance, she was as human as an ancient pine or immoveable boulder, as human as the moon.

She had thought that she wanted to throw herself at Stone’s feet when she first met him, to revere him. How little she knew then. Without any control or thought, Skybright knocked her forehead against the cold floor thrice, overtaken by uncontrollable shaking. Still, after, she could not cast her eyes away from the goddess’s face. She knew her mouth hung open, but she didn’t have the mind to close it.

The goddess was attired in a dress that flowed over her like water, the colors subtle and ever changing, as varied as the stones that rested in the stream nearby. Her ebony hair was pinned to her head with two thick loops woven with rubies and emeralds. The stones winked like eyes in the goddess’s thick locks. She inclined her head toward Stone.

He dropped to his knees, bowing his head in acquiescence. “Greetings, Goddess of Accord,” he murmured. Skybright almost gasped aloud. She had never seen Stone make himself servile to anyone.

“You are late,” the goddess said. Her voice was clear and crisp, reminding Skybright of cool autumn mornings. It rang clearly through the entire hall. The bird ceased its shrill cries the moment the Immortal spoke.

“I came as soon as—”

The goddess raised a hand, and Skybright saw that her long nails were the color of iridescent pearl. Stone clamped his mouth shut, and his jaw flexed. Fear radiated from him—a sour odor so unlike his usual scent. And confusion. He was not expecting such a violent reception.

“You have done poorly. The breach between the underworld and mortal remains open.” Her hand was still raised, as if ready to make a divine declaration—or to strike.