Serpentine (24 page)

Skybright leaped to her feet and ran, agonizingly slow, her own arms outstretched.

“No!” Zhen Ni cried again. “Stay back!”

The salt of tears filled Skybright’s throat as she realized Zhen Ni hadn’t thrown her hand out to plead for rescue, but to stop Skybright from chasing her. So she could keep Skybright safe. Her mistress flailed against the demon’s shoulder like some rabid animal, sobbing as she slammed her fists against his wound, her palms sticky with black blood. “Let me go!” Zhen Ni screamed.

The demon growled, slowing, and Skybright dove for the discarded dagger on the ground, clutching it with a death grip. She vaulted toward the demon, an inhuman scream ripping from her throat. Then the air tore like paper in front of them, revealing a gaping hole that glowed an intense red. Skybright skidded to a stop, stunned. And in that moment of hesitation, the demon hurtled through with Zhen Ni, and the rip closed, as if it had never existed.

Skybright was left alone on the empty main street with only the sound of Zhen Ni’s screams ringing in her ears.

Dread knotted in Skybright’s stomach as she paced again and again across the point where Zhen Ni had vanished into the air with the bull demon, but there was nothing except cobblestones. Heart heavy, she shifted to her serpentine form in hopes of gathering more clues with her heightened senses. Perhaps if she hadn’t changed to a girl, she could have saved Zhen Ni. Instead, she had let her own dread of revealing her true identity taint her judgment. She dug her nails into her hands, welcoming the pain, and gave a low hiss. If Zhen Ni was hurt—tortured or ravaged—it would be her fault.

Skybright stilled, but could feel no other human or demon within leagues. Terrified for her mistress and furious with herself, she returned to the inn and propelled herself back through the third story window of their chamber, where she was greeted by the yowling tabby. Its pupils were dilated in its clear green eyes, its hackles rising. The cat hissed at Skybright before darting beneath a bed.

Somehow, this made all that had happened seem even worse, and she was tempted to shift back to a girl, curl up on the bed, and cry until she fell asleep again. But there was no time for such nonsense. She needed to save Zhen Ni. Wrapping the dagger in a cloth, Skybright tucked it into her mistress’s knapsack before retrieving Zhen Ni’s handkerchief, then drew it to her nose, taking a deep breath. And although Zhen Ni’s image was as clear in her mind as if her mistress stood in front of her, nothing stirred within her chest as before—the inner compass that had guided Skybright to Zhen Ni the first time.

Were they too far apart for Skybright to track her?

Or had Zhen Ni been taken to a place that was impossible to reach?

Skybright thrust the handkerchief back into Zhen Ni’s knapsack and slung the two bags across her shoulders, thankful for the human half of her upper body while in demonic form, if just for practicality’s sake. She pushed the bed out of the way with her arms, so the cat wouldn’t be trapped, and slithered down the stairs back onto the main street.

The scent of the undead still lingered, and that of the demon and her mistress was even stronger. The rent in the air had left a burnt, smoky taste, and Skybright circled the spot again, knowing it was pointless but still unable to believe the demon had disappeared with her mistress. Finally, she slithered out of the deserted town and back toward the forest. She paused at its edge, quieting her mind. She felt a twinge of Zhen Ni’s presence, the taste so faint in her throat she wondered if she imagined it. But Skybright clung to that whisper in her chest, desperate for anything. Anything at all.

Skybright traveled the entire night in her serpent form, stopping only to gauge that the quiet glimmer of Zhen Ni was still within her. She hoped that with constant motion she’d somehow draw closer to her mistress and her connection to her would grow stronger. But after covering many leagues, her sense of Zhen Ni remained a faint twinge at her core.

The giant cypresses near the monastery had given way to massive ginkgo trees, some with trunks as wide as she was tall. Interspersed between them were younger saplings with slender trunks and sparse branches. She had never traveled this far within the forest, and only recognized the trees from their pale green fan-shaped leaves. Nanny Bai had used both the ginkgo nut and seed in her concoctions. For a brief moment, she thought about the manor and Lady Yuan, and the life they had led there. Her heart ached knowing how much she had failed them all in losing Zhen Ni. What did the demon want with her mistress?

All the possibilities Skybright envisioned were violent and horrific. She’d seen these demons fighting Kai Sen and the monks, knew how merciless they were. She would never forgive herself if something happened to her. She had promised she’d keep Zhen Ni safe—only to let her be carried off. Skybright paused by a rushing river, its water glinting in the afternoon sunlight. Several giant gingko trees were rooted right at the river’s edge, tilting toward the water, their leaves rustling softly overhead. The sound soothed her tired mind, and Skybright tried to capture this moment of quiet.

I’ll come for you, mistress.

There was no response, but the flicker of her mistress remained, and Skybright vowed she’d keep searching for Zhen Ni for as long as it took to find her.

The faint shuddering beneath her coil broke her from her reverie. She twisted from the riverbank and sought the noise, sliding so quickly between the trees it felt as if she were flying. She recognized the hard stomping of the undead almost immediately, but this time there were more than a thousand of them. The number was so staggering Skybright didn’t trust her senses—which had never been wrong. She felt the monks’ steps among the undead, less than fifty altogether. How could they possibly survive with these odds?

Was Kai Sen fighting among them?

For once, Skybright was grateful her sense of Zhen Ni didn’t grow stronger as she neared the battle. Breaking through the trees, she burst onto a main road choked full with undead. With one glance, she saw that the newly turned were amongst them, hundreds that had been tainted in the town of Shan An. These undead wore bright clothes and had pale faces and sightless eyes, but had not yet begun to decompose like those who had risen from their graves. They jostled against each other, arms stretched stiffly in front, tongues lolling from their mouths as they tried to find a human victim to bite or clamp onto. The monks were banded in small groups of four with their backs to one another, forming tight circles, each wielding a torch and blade. As easy as it was to dispose of the undead, Skybright knew the chances of the monks’ survival were slim because of sheer numbers. The humans would tire soon, and it wouldn’t take more than a moment of carelessness for each to be turned as well.

Angered, and fueled by the helplessness she felt over Zhen Ni’s abduction, Skybright struck with her massive serpent body, knocking several undead over before snaking her thick coils around one neck and snapping it like an eating stick. She did this without thought or pause until the dirt around her was littered with decapitated bodies, some still twitching, trying to snatch a living person in their clawed hands. She slid between the corpses, thumping against some and thrusting others aside with a strong flick of her coil. Slithering on the outer edges of the pressing throngs, she stayed out of the way of the monks and continued to destroy the undead, one after the next.

The air was thick with the fumes of burnt flesh and hair, filled with the hoarse chanting of the monks, and Skybright was glad that the undead uttered no sounds, were as voiceless as she was in demon form. They shuffled and hopped, stupid but doggedly persistent. She reared high on her coil to better gauge her surroundings, hoping for a glimpse of Kai Sen. Was he here? Was he all right? The undead pressed around her, gathering, and she decapitated another two, then hissed. There were no other demons among them on this stretch of stench-tainted road and her hiss carried above everyone’s heads—humans and undead alike. The moment seemed to freeze, like a scene captured in the brief lightning flash before a storm, and Skybright ducked low again, hoping she hadn’t drawn attention to herself. She killed more undead as she slithered along, as swiftly as when she’d yawn or sneeze as a girl. The undead never reached out to grasp her, never opened their maws to try and bite her—as if they sensed she wasn’t mortal.

But then Skybright noticed something strange. The undead in front of her, those who had had their backs to her, were all beginning to turn to face her. She glanced behind and saw a huge throng of more undead lurching in jerking motions, as if following her. Not as they would pursue a target, but as a dog would trail after its master. She hissed again at the wall of undead blocking her path, killing another half dozen and flinging their bodies away to emphasize her point. But the others didn’t know fear, and hopped aside to let her pass.

What was happening?

With her heart in her throat, Skybright slid through the narrow channel the undead had cleared for her, then reared high on her tail again to see her surroundings. The undead had all pulled away from the clusters of fighting monks and were jumping in her direction. Not wanting to believe it, Skybright hissed again, low and long, and the sound shivered across her bare human skin, from her arms and breasts down through her crimson-scaled tail. The undead who hadn’t been facing her now all turned and began their erratic hopping in her direction. The monks’ chanting faltered, ceased, and a slow murmuring began to rise among them.

Skybright sank low and shot between the lumbering corpses, sliding far from the monks, upward on the wide mountain road until it bent and met the dense ginkgo forest. She had slithered past the thick of the battle, and finally turned to face the awful truth. The hundreds of undead that still remained had all followed her, were even now pressing around in a tight circle, so she was surrounded. But they gave her space, and each stopped its hopping and stilled when it drew as close as it could.

And they waited.

Skybright wanted to retch.

Instead, she rose on her coil and saw that the monks had gathered together as well, a safe distance from the undead crowded around her. Their expressions were drawn and grim beneath their torch flames. She swept her gaze across the undead, their faces tilted toward her, some with clouded eyes and others with no eyes at all in their exposed skulls. All turned to her, waiting for her instruction as if she led them. As if this army of fetid, mindless creatures was
hers
.

She wanted to scream. Wanted to beat their rotten faces until they caved. The monks watched from a distance, and she sensed Kai Sen amongst them, even though she could not pick him out—was too stricken to do so, too ashamed. The silence that had descended was absolute. Nothing stirred, living or dead.

Skybright lifted higher still on her serpent body, until she towered more than a head over everyone and hissed again, loud enough that it resounded in her throat.

Go!
she screamed in her mind.
Away and back to your graves! Or dig a hole and bury yourself inside! GO!
She shouted it so loudly in her head she could feel her eyes bulge, her lips pull back so her long fangs jutted out.