The Last Dragon of the East

Chapter 38

38

S now.

The first thing I notice when I finally wake is that we are surrounded on all sides by a blanket of soft, frigid white. The wind is unforgiving, freezing everything it touches. The metal cuffs biting into my wrists serve only to amplify the harsh temperature, scraping away at my tender flesh, which has turned a jarring blue.

My vision is blurry, coming back into focus at a snail’s pace. Whether it’s due to hunger or the ice frosting over my lids, I can’t tell. They have broken both my legs, my bones shattered and muscles torn. The only reason I don’t cry out in pain is because I’m far too numb to feel anything.

It takes me a long while to make sense of my surroundings. I’m in some sort of open-air atrium carved into the top of a high mountain. The Winter Palace is a magnificent structure, chiseled into the grand rock face. Smooth columns hold up pointed roofs covered in red clay tiles, and a large red moon door with two gold dragon-head knockers is bolted to the front. I would marvel at the sight, were I not teetering on the brink of death.

When my vision finally clears, I realize why I can no longer feel my hands or feet. I’m bound in a kneeling position to an iron post, chains pulling my arms back behind me while my ankles are strapped down to the cobblestones beneath.

There’s not enough slack in the chain for me to lie down, but just enough to keep me in this stress hold. There’s a chain around my throat, too, secured to the post so that I have no room to move my head. I can’t lean back without putting stress on my knees, but I can’t lean forward without choking myself.

There’s no telling how long it’s been, though the sticky haze over my thoughts leads me to believe the emperor’s men might have slipped me something to dull my mind. Poppy sap, perhaps? Whatever it was, it’s wearing off—much to the chagrin of my screaming nerve endings.

It takes me far too long to realize that there’s another figure bound on the other side of the atrium. Her hair spills over her face and shoulders; her robes are tattered and stained. While she has thrice the number of restraints on her, I have triple the number of armed guards. The ends of their spears are all pointed toward me, hovering dangerously close to my face, my chest, my stomach—ready to kill.

“Jyn!”

She doesn’t move.

A low chuckle reaches my ear, the sound of the emperor’s voice igniting my simmering rage. I strain my neck in order to see him. Seated beneath the cover of a large tent, the emperor gorges himself on a succulent buffet of roasted meats, steamed pork buns, and hearty stews. My mouth waters while a painful cramp runs through my empty stomach. How many days has it been since I last ate? Or has it been weeks?

“Glad to see you’re finally awake,” the emperor says, chewing with his mouth open. “I was beginning to worry I had killed the red dragon’s newest reincarnation.”

My brow furrows. “But… how do you—”

“How do I know?” the emperor scoffs. One of his concubines climbs onto his lap to wipe at his lips with a silk napkin. “You weren’t exactly discreet, my boy. The famous Thread-Seeker… Not just anyone has the magic to see red threads of fate. Only those descended from an ancient line of power can do so. Stories of the matches you made spread much farther than you thought. It was an easy enough task to discover you. The mighty red dragon, returned once more.”

I seethe. “So you sent me to find her on purpose?”

“I figured, why not let you do the work for me? If you did manage to find your own Fated One, all I had to do was keep an eye on you from afar and follow.”

I spit at the ground, my opinion of him clear. “Wipe that smug look off your face, you rat.”

The emperor leans back on his low chair, carved of varnished mahogany. He pops a soured plum into his mouth and chews on it gracelessly. “I suggest you choose your words carefully. You are in no position to speak to me in such a manner.”

I struggle against my chains to no avail. “Let her go. I will do whatever you command, but please, let her go.”

The emperor rises to his feet and wraps the long sleeves of his robes about his forearms. Then he approaches me slowly, without the slightest hint of urgency, as if he were out on a leisurely stroll. He stops just in front of me and peers down with a cruel satisfaction.

“Plead all you wish,” he says, dragging the tip of his pointed finger guard my cheek. “Neither of you will ever know the taste of freedom again, now that I have you within my grasp.”

His words sink in, and I understand their ominous implications. He has no plans to release us, nor will he let us die, for at least in death, we might have escaped him. We could have come back, reborn. But now he has us captured and restrained; we are truly trapped, his prisoners to do with as he sees fit for all eternity.

I consider strangling myself on my restraints, biting off my own tongue to drown in my blood, refusing all food in captivity. I will come back as many times as it takes. But what about Jyn? She might never recover from losing me after we’ve finally come this far; would she give up when offered another life? It is a horrifying realization that even death can’t save us.

On the other side of the atrium, Jyn groans as she blinks herself awake. Focus alights in her eyes the moment she spots the emperor; they flash a dangerously dark shade of green.

“Get away from him!” she screams, so loudly and viciously that her guards jolt back in surprise.

The emperor laughs. “About time. Now the fun can finally begin.”

My eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

“Seven thousand years I’ve spent hunting you, and finally , you have been reborn with your dragon magic. I shall have not one, but two mighty beasts at my disposal.”

I’m adrift, my body so numb from the cold that I can’t distinguish where I end and the rest of the world begins. He means to strip us for parts; little by little, or perhaps all at once. If he was willing to kill his own Fated One for such selfish gains, there’s no telling what else he’s capable of.

He frightens me more than any fei or yayu. More than illness, than war, than death. The longer I stare at him in helpless disbelief, the more I understand that there’s truly no creature in all the realms with a blacker heart. He’s a demon, destined for Hell if I ever find a way out of these restraints.

“Go on, then,” the emperor says, nudging my thigh with the tip of his foot. “Transform, boy. Show me the red dragon in all his glorious splendor.”

I only glare at him. “Mark my words: when I kill you, I will savor every one of your screams.”

For only a moment, I catch a glimpse of something behind his stony expression, the faintest trace of fear. He’s a cruel man, yes, but he’s by no means a fool. He remains breakable, which I will certainly not forget.

“You will transform,” he repeats, a hard edge to his tone. “Or I will bring down every manner of hurt unto your Fated One.”

I lurch against my chains. “Don’t you touch her!”

The emperor bends at the hip, his face a mere inch from mine. “Would you like to test me, boy? Even if I kill her, she will come back. I will dispatch her again and again until she returns as a dragon. As many times as it takes, just as I did with you. I’ll make you watch every single time until you do as I ask.”

A chill tears at my tender flesh. I close my eyes, and my mind finally sees through the haze and pain.

The first time I came back, I was a boy. My village was punished by an unforgiving plague. When I focus hard enough, I can see him; the mysterious stranger with vials full of blue gems. No, not gems— scales . I suddenly remember my mother and father from many lifetimes ago, pleading with the stranger to let them have the medicine that had worked wonders for their neighbors, only for him to deny them outright because they couldn’t pay.

When I came back as a bird of paradise, it was the emperor’s cage in which I sat, alone and helpless until the day I died. And who led the charge when the hunters attacked me when I was reborn a fei? None other than the emperor himself, all so he could keep an eye on me to see if my magic had returned.

In every life, in every possible capacity, this monster has haunted me. There’s only one way to escape his clutches. I must free his soul from his body to break this cursed cycle—and in doing so, free A-Qian’s own soul as well. Only then will my son have a choice to return once more.

“Enough!” Jyn screams. “You have it wrong. He’s no dragon.”

The emperor arches his brow, casting her a sharp look. He abandons my side and starts toward her. “Come again?”

“Sai is mortal. He has no powers.”

“You’re lying. The huntress informed me of his red eyes. Of his inhuman strength.”

Jyn nods at me. “Look at him,” she says, completely serious. “If it were true, would he not have shifted by now and freed us? The red dragon was thrice as strong as I.”

The emperor scoffs, nothing but doubt in his tone. “Do you think me daft?”

“It’s the truth.”

“I’m sure I can help tease it out of him.”

“You’ll only end up killing him,” Jyn says.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take. Until then, the burden will lie upon you. Go on. Unleash your power so that I may finally take what is mine.”

“Stop!” I scream, choking helplessly against my restraints. “If you lay a hand on her—”

“What? Like this?” He snatches Jyn by the hair and yanks her head back. She yelps, the tears welling in her eyes immediately frosting over from the cold. “I could slit her throat here and now. Perhaps I will drain her of her blood if I cannot have her scales. At least then she will be worth something.”

I can feel my anger rising to the surface, an overwhelming force that makes my skull vibrate and my chest burn. I’m held together by a loose thread, ready to unravel and pull apart at the seams. All I would have to do is give in to the urge, to pull at the end of my resolve and allow the magic flowing through my veins to tear the emperor asunder.

Sensing my thoughts, Jyn shoots me a warning glance. I can feel her pleading with me over our bond, cold water desperately thrown onto a roaring flame. I’m barely—just barely—able to tamp down my emotions.

We can’t give the emperor what he wants, two dragons in hand. Even if I have no clue yet whether I have the ability to transform in full, I would rather he not be sure of our collective power.

After a few moments of contemplation, the emperor circles back slowly, glaring at me down the length of his nose. He looms, a silent sentry in his watchtower, so impossibly still that I can’t tell whether he’s even breathing. With a sharp click of his tongue, he turns swiftly on his heel to return to his seat beneath the cover of his tent. He snaps his fingers at a different one of his many waiting concubines, prompting her to pour rice wine from a hefty jar into a much smaller cup.

“You will transform,” he tells Jyn flatly, “either of your own volition or by force.”

I tilt my head back and stare at the growing snowstorm above. Ice shards pelt my skin, so cold they burn on my cheeks. I hate it here. “We will give you nothing,” I rasp.

“Oh, but you will, boy.” He sits back and sips his wine. “I always get what I want, no matter what I must break.” He turns to one of his guards and snaps his fingers. “Bring out the table.”

Before I can even blink, the guards standing behind me release me from my bindings and drag me over to a wooden table that is deliberately set out in clear view of Jyn. Save for the iron cuffs bolted to its surface, it looks much like any other table. The guards carry me toward it, practically tossing me onto my back before pinning me down and securing me to my new confinement.

“What are you planning to do?” I growl. “Brand me? Break my bones? Shred my skin?”

The emperor replies with a wicked smile before gesturing with his hand. “Bring out the water.”