Chapter 15
I couldn’t decide which was worse—the cold or the absence of air. Both sensations pressed into my psyche, my body sweeping downriver as if made of paper. Then Ren’s fingers were wrenched from mine, and I flailed, alone, in what was promising to be a watery grave.
I needed air, needed it before my lungs collapsed. My feet kicked desperately, brushing past debris and shoving against the current.
After what felt like hours, my head burst through the river’s surface, and I gulped in both water and air.
But, oh, I could breathe, and with that miracle, I found the strength to swim toward what I hoped was shore.
My chin scraped rock, hands slapping against blessed earth.
I dragged my body out of the water, coughing the river from my burning lungs.
In the dim moonlight, I could make out the forest on either side of the river, the chirping of insects barely audible over the water’s gurgling.
For a moment, I thought the earth was shaking.
Then I realized it was me, shivering. My drenched clothes clung like ice to my body, my exposed face freezing against the air.
It didn’t help that my lower half was still submerged in the river.
But when I attempted to crawl forward, my weak wrist made it difficult to move.
I curled my fingers into my palms and lay there for a moment, breathing through chattering teeth. I was so cold, so tired. All I wanted to do was sleep. But—
Ren.
I’d lost him in the current. I needed to find him.
Ignoring my body’s protests, I dragged my legs into a kneeling position and crawled up the bank toward drier ground. Then I stumbled along the riverside, calling for Ren.
Dread weighed on me as I scanned the shadows. What if he’d washed up in Wen territory? What if he was still flailing in the stream? Or worse—what if he’d already drowned?
I pushed my legs harder, sending a frantic prayer to the gods, my ancestors, and the river itself that Ren was safe.
I didn’t know how long I walked—enough for my eyelashes to turn brittle and my fingers to grow numb—but at last I spotted an unmoving shape lodged between the current and a fallen tree.
Letting out a fearful breath, I staggered across the mud to reach him.
His head was above water, and he was breathing, if shallowly. My staff bobbed, protected, beside him.
I set the staff aside on safe ground so I could hook my arms under Ren’s and heave his body up the shore. With his clothes thoroughly soaked, he was heavier than ever, and I had to pause every so often to rest.
Finally, we reached the forest’s edge, where I laid him on the grass and found the mala beads beneath his jacket. With frozen fingers, I stroked the round bones until I distinguished warmth from ten of the beads.
I laid my forehead on his chest, relieved. He still had some qi left.
But it wouldn’t last long if I didn’t get him dried soon.
“Ren,” I said, patting his cheek. “Ren, wake up.”
He didn’t stir.
I grasped his shoulder and shook harder. “Ren! Can you hear me? You must wake up now!”
A moan escaped his lips. His eyes cracked open and found mine. “Siying?”
Relief flooded my bloodstream.
“Can you walk?” I asked, sliding my arm behind him to push him up.
“I … think so. Where are we?”
I squinted past the tree line. “Based on the position of the mountains, Sian, I think.”
He sighed. “Thank the heavens.”
“But we can’t rest yet. We must move away from the river and find shelter. I need you to get up.”
He nodded, leaning on my arm as he peeled himself off the ground and found his feet. Together, we shuffled into the enclosure of the forest, moving away from the river where our enemies likely prowled.
We walked for as long as we could bear the cold. Ren, fortunately, was less bothered by the low temperature thanks to his unusual state between life and death. Though his skin was cool to the touch, he hardly shivered.
As for me, I hunched into myself, jaw clenched, muscles tensed.
My body screamed for me to stop, to build a flame I could jump into or to bury myself inside the earth, safe from the sharp teeth of the evening breeze.
But the rational side of me insisted we keep moving, to increase our distance from Wen.
Eventually, Ren brought us to a halt, saying, “That’s enough. We should stop here.”
With my body and brain both numbed, I could hardly think to argue. Spurred by the need to survive, I got to work gathering wood and building a fire. I nearly wept at the warmth rolling over my face.
Ren gently prodded me to sit, then removed my bag so he could bring out its contents and arrange them by the fire to dry. While I peeled off my outer layers to allow for quicker drying, Ren boiled water in a small pot. He added a few slices of ginseng and poured me a cup.
“Thank you,” I murmured, taking it between my hands. My wounded wrist, still frozen from the cold, ached. My teeth, at least, had finally stopped chattering every time I drew breath.
“You’re welcome,” he said, gaze politely averted, cheeks flushed from the fire—so I assumed. Discreetly, I tugged on the fabric of my underclothes so that they didn’t cling so scandalously to my skin.
It was then that I noticed the missing Fu talisman on Ren’s forehead. My hand moved without thought, and I snatched his wrist as he started to turn away.
“Your talisman,” I said. “It’s gone.”
He touched his brow. “Unfortunately, your slip of paper was no match for a thundering current.”
I frowned. “Why didn’t you mention it sooner?”
“Well…”
He shrugged, and I realized he hadn’t wanted to trouble me. My heart softened. I said firmly, “Sit.”
The corner of his mouth tugged upward, but there was a noticeable tiredness around his eyes. It’d be a terrible waste if he lost the qi that remained in his body. He must’ve used plenty of it surviving a powerful current and trudging through the forest.
At my motion, he obediently sank to the ground beside me, legs crossed.
I searched for my box of talismans. Luckily, the sheets inside were only slightly damp. I held one near the fire, letting the paper dry before placing it on Ren’s forehead. Again, I left room for him to see out of one eye.
After ringing my staff and reciting the proper incantation, I said, “How do you feel?”
“Alive.”
I scanned his face for signs of discomfort. Finding nothing serious, I dropped my eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry.”
He paused, clearly caught off guard. “Whatever for?”
“For pushing you to jump into the river,” I said. “You were right. That was incredibly reckless. You could’ve died.”
“We had no other choice.” His hand covered mine. I jolted at the sudden contact. Neck tingling hotly, I looked up to find a lopsided smile on his face. He continued, “Reckless as it may have been, I was rather impressed. What you did was brave, Siying. Don’t apologize for it.”
I nodded, warmed by his heartfelt praise. That was all it was. It’d be ridiculous to entertain any other kinds of feelings. I poured him a cup of tea, shaking my head at his grimace, and waited until he’d drunk it all before speaking again.
“We’ve lost the Wen soldiers for now,” I said, “but your qi is much too low. We need to find another evil spirit to purify soon.”
“Do we know where to search in Sian?”
I pinched the corner of the map drying near the fire and unrolled it to show Ren the markings left carefully by Mistress Ming. I tapped the characters for a town called Xiatang, which was on the route to Baimu.
“A platoon of imperial soldiers passed through this town five months ago,” I said, repeating what Mistress Ming had told me. “For what reason, I’m not sure. What we do know is that every single one of those soldiers was found drowned in a nearby pond, killed by an evil spirit.”
“Ah, I heard the tale while I was training.” Ren shuddered.
I stared at the map, nibbling on my lower lip. “A spirit powerful enough to kill so many men … that must mean its qi is powerful too. Perhaps it’ll be enough to warm the rest of your beads.”
“But what if this spirit is as dangerous as Yuyan?”
“That’s a risk we must take. We’re running out of time.”
Ren pressed his knuckles to his mouth, mulling over my words. After a silence, he sighed. “You know, when I died in that field a week ago, I didn’t think I’d have to face even more death to survive.”
“A week ago?” I echoed, forgetting my worries about Xiatang. “You died two weeks ago.”
“No,” he said, counting off the days since we’d left Ninghe. “You found me a day after the battle. I may not be an expert on mathematics, but I do have a clear sense of time.”
“That can’t be possible,” I insisted. “Official Yi hired me two weeks ago. Why would he do that if you weren’t already … dead?”
Suspicion grew around my skull, wiry vines probing at my memory. Back at the battlefield, I’d thought it strange how well-preserved the bodies were, ascribing it to the cold. Perhaps I’d been wrong.
I grabbed Ren by the hand, forcing myself to ignore how warm he felt. “What if the person who wanted you dead isn’t from Wen at all? What if it’s someone from the palace?”
“You mean Official Yi?” he asked dubiously. “I hardly know the man. He’s only ever been focused on my brother. Why would he want to kill me?”
“He works for your brother, right? Maybe he wants to ensure that Prince Liqin inherits the throne, so he can move up in rank too.”
Ren rolled his lips together, considering what I’d said. “That could be possible, but … I’ve never been a real competitor for the throne. What’s changed?”
“You stole the seal,” I said, understanding dawning on me. “The seal your father needs to officially declare his heir. Without it, your brother can’t become crown prince.”
His face paled. “But I didn’t steal it to ruin Liqin’s future. I just stole it to spite my father, make him panic a little. I’m going to return it. I simply got … distracted.”