Chapter Sixty-Three
I SQUATTED IN THE DARK LIKE A DEMON.
Ahead, the cave system of the Eastern Crucible sulked in the night. I’d walked here after trying to figure out how to drive Wen’s jeep—only to give up when the grinding gears threatened to tell everyone in Ashfall Cliff that I was up to no good.
Then again, a vehicle wouldn’t have worked.
It’d taken three hours of mountaineering to get here.
The forest was almost impassable; the cliff edges narrow and steep.
I’d memorised my father’s map but almost got lost a few times, thanks to the rugged terrain doing its best to turn me back.
I doubted the villagers would’ve gone this way while looking for their lost ones—purely because of the risks.
I clenched against the inferno fighting to get free.
One hundred and eighty minutes away from Rook, yet the burning in my blood was unbearable. The fire hated being separated from her. It acted like a separate entity—a parasite slowly vampirising my soul the longer I was away from the one person who kept me sane.
Focus.
On the horizon, the moon glimmered brightly. Dawn was still hours away and the croaks of frogs and night insects rang in my ears.
I studied the cave’s entrance. Half-collapsed and covered in vines, it looked abandoned—just like the site notice on my father’s map.
A rusted, broken fence hung on rotten, wooden posts—the metal cut in the centre and rolled aside as if explorers had ignored the signs to keep out.
A weather-beaten sign with the Brimstone logo had been torn off the fence and left to be swallowed by moss against a tree.
Everything about this place looked forgotten and unwanted, yet...the air tasted wrong.
The fire kept growing, snarling at something I couldn’t see.
The faintest coil of cigarette smoke hit my nose as two men exited the mountain’s mouth.
One of them smacked aside a low branch; the other kicked aside a weed. The low hum of conversation came as they settled onto two fallen rocks by the cave’s entrance, pulled out a bottle and some packaged food from their coats, and proceeded to have a midnight snack.
The fire in me snarled.
The violence that’d always been a part of me—the part that Rook had done her best to tame—sprang free with claws and fury.
A lamenting moan hung on the breeze, whipping my head to the side. It sounded exactly like Lao Li had said—like the mountain was screaming.
I moved before I could stop myself.
Leaving my spot in the trees, I marched directly toward the two men sharing their starlit feast. Why were they here?
Why guard an abandoned geothermal site in the middle of the night?
Even if it was still operated by Brimstone—some off-the-books reactor or some other business experiment—it didn’t explain why guards were needed at this time.
It took an embarrassingly long moment for them to spy me, chatting quietly and working their way through their food. I cut through the broken fence and drew to a stop.
The one who’d been smoking the cigarette froze. Choking on a mouthful, he launched to his feet, knocked over his bottle, and whipped a gun from his holster.
“Stop right there!” His Mandarin was short and choppy, revealing he wasn’t from around here. “Who the hell are you?”
“Let me in.” I crossed my arms, palming the dagger hilts in my waistband.
The other man stood slowly, looking me up and down with a laugh. “You want in? You think you can wander here in the dead of night and—”
“I’m the rightful ruler of Brimstone Industries.” Leaning forward, I smiled thinly. “I’m Yunhui Luxin. Let. Me. In.”
They shot each other a look.
I gave them a few seconds.
A single minute to prove they were innocent and I didn’t have to kill them.
But they ruined it by pointing their guns at my head and—
I swooped forward, feinted to the side, and plunged a dagger into the closest guard’s jugular before spinning and slashing the neck of the other. All those nights of murdering eager little assassins came in handy as I dispatched them without a sound.
Dropping their guns, their hands clutched their blood-spurting throats. As they gurgled and choked, I shoved the knives back into my waistband.
The fire inside me raged.
It wanted out.
But I gritted my teeth and watched them die, then stepped silently into the mountain.
* * * * *
The deeper I went, the narrower the tunnel became.
The air grew stagnant.
Breathing felt wrong—as if the mountain itself exhaled a toxic mix of misery and mourning.
A few sporadic lightbulbs led the way, their grimy wires guiding me down and down. No signage. No guards. Just the oppressive sensation of stepping into hell.
Around a few corners and down a few more pathways. Voices echoed from the depths. Muffled and uneasy, the murmurs of pain and the occasional cry of agony.
The fire in me slammed against my ribs, threatening to break my control.
Sweat beaded along my spine as I kept going. Heat crawled across my skin in erratic pulses, scorching my shirt.
Hurry.
The mountain beckoned me deeper.
The tunnel sloped left, then right—a few misshapen steps carved into slick stone.
The moans grew louder. A wail cut through the low murmurs. Someone screamed.
The fire snarled and sizzled, threatening to erupt out of me.
Clenching every muscle, I turned a corner and—
Found two guards with their backs to me.
In front of them was a little girl. A filthy little girl dressed in rags, holding out an empty wooden bowl.
They laughed and shook their heads at whatever she’d asked. The taller one kicked her, sending her bowl flying. She slammed to the ground with a cry.
In a fugue of heat and fury, I shot forward and severed one guard’s throat before stabbing the voice box of the other.
The little girl huddled and sobbed, not looking up as she covered her head. The men’s blood rained down their chests, covering my hands as they toppled quietly to the floor.
The fire roared.
I staggered backward. The cave walls shimmered red. Every bone in my body throbbed as if the burning venom threatened to get free—pushing against my ribs, testing its cage of bone and flesh.
I doubled over, balling my hand in my stomach as I tried to control it.
It just kept building.
A hairline fracture cracked across my chest, splitting my skin and revealing glowing muscles beneath.
Fuck...
What if Rook and I hadn’t evolved, after all?
What if the unlocking of fire and ice by the river was just the beginning? What if it’d just been waiting? Waiting for me to be stupid enough to leave her?
I groaned as the fire gnawed at my insides like blazing rats—
Something hesitantly soft landed on my wrist—almost too faint to feel.
My head snapped up, eyes locking onto the little girl who jerked her fingers off me and held up her empty bowl. Offering it with one hand, she extended her other arm in sacrifice.
“Please?” she whimpered. “I’ll give you my blood if you give me food.”
More heat howled through my chest.
No older than six or seven, her skin was littered with silver scars. Just like my arms had been when I’d lived in Cinderkeep.
Why was she trading blood for food?
Where the hell did she come from?
Sweating and shaking, I dropped to one knee. Wiping the glistening, still-warm blood from the slaughtered guards onto my thighs, I did my best to stay human.
The little girl fought her terror and eyed me, her black hair knotted and covered with hay, her bare feet so thick with dirt, it looked like she wore socks.
“Please?” She trembled, her rags shivering. The tattered holes around her torso revealed ribs beneath. “Food? Give me food for my blood?” Shoving her scarred arm under my nose, she wrinkled her tiny nose. “I’m hungry.”
She peered into my eyes...
And reeled backward.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I commanded the fire to stop trying to rule me. I needed to swallow it down—to remove the scarlet line that’d undoubtedly appeared around my pupils.
But it fought me. Burned me. Without Rook’s frost, I wasn’t strong enough, but...I was here because of this little girl. I was here to find out what the fuck was going on in this mountain.
Focus!
Locking everything down, my voice came out smoky and sharp. “Who are you?”
She held her bowl higher, her lips pinched and collarbones stark. “Take my blood. I won’t tell. But you’ll give me food, won’t you? The others did.”
My hands shook as I took her bowl and placed it beside the dead guards. She didn’t even give them a second glance. As if death was nothing to notice.
Sweat poured down my back. My heart slammed so violently, it threatened to rupture.
I could feel my control slipping. Feel the wrath winning. But...I couldn’t hurt her.
If I let go, I would melt this entire mountain.
If I lost control, everybody in it would die.
That knowledge was enough to keep me sane...for now.
Standing, I held out my hand. “Can you take me to where you live? Are there others down below?”
She eyed up my bloody fingers, then shrugged and placed her fragile, tiny hand in mine. “Okay.”
I staggered as the power inside me snarled.
It wanted to burn.
Burn them all.
Burn every-fucking-thing to the ground.
Forcing a smile, I let her lead me deeper into hell.
* * * * *
The heart of the Eastern Crucible wasn’t a reactor.
It was a prison.
I lost the ability to breathe as the little girl guided me into the mountain’s belly, leading me into caverns bigger than the Dragon Courtyard. Other caves branched off, illuminated with lightbulbs bolted to the rock, casting shadows and glare.
The smell made my stomach turn over.
Rot and blood, death and waste.
Divots in the rock had become sleeping areas for anyone lucky enough to claim them.
Stuffed with rancid hay and achingly cold, threadbare blankets looked as damp as the stone walls.
Rats darted about—narrowly missing being caught by a group of starving men, the clink of their chains bouncing off the low ceiling.