Chapter 28
Biyu stifled a scream as multiple doors to the library exploded, the wood splintering and shattering everywhere.
From where they were huddled, she could see—through the gaps in the stacks of books—five people clad in dark clothes burst through the one of the exits. Her pulse quickened, hands trembling.
It was her time to go to the wards; she had memorized the path, but now that it was time to spring into action, her brain became fuzzy with fog.
Her body quivered and her breath sawed in and out of her body violently. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t—
Fear like she had never felt before gripped her tightly. She would have to run to the wards and dispel them, but her confidence waned at the sight of the men. She would have to fight. To sneak around. To run.
“Shh. Breathe.” Nikator’s hand went to her lower back, rubbing up and down. “You’ll be fine—I’ll protect you.”
It was enough to rattle her out of her reverie.
Nikator unsheathed two long, curved daggers from his thigh straps. There was a deadly gleam in his narrowed eyes as he glared at the intruders. He glanced down at her. “Stay close to me.”
Two of the masked intruders came to the area they were in and Nikator sprang to action.
His blades clashed against their steel swords.
Biyu hugged the shelves and watched in stark horror as his blade sliced through one of their necks.
Blood gushed over the floor, painting it in vermillion as the man fell to his knees making gargling choking sounds.
The second intruder didn’t stand a chance as Nikator ducked and stabbed the man’s guts.
His blade made a wet popping noise as he yanked it out.
Biyu backed away and turned to find Vita rushing over to them. Blood streaked over one side of her face, but it didn’t seem to be hers. By the time she reached Biyu, Nikator was yanking his blade out of another intruder’s chest cavity.
“Minos ran to check on Her Majesty,” Vita quickly supplied, glancing at Biyu—assessing for any injuries—and then back at Nikator. “I’ll go check on Bohai.”
“The likely target is Her Majesty, since she’s carrying Muyang’s child.” Nikator wiped the flat side of his weapon on the man’s sleeve, cleaning the slick blood coating it. “You should go to her instead; we don’t know how many men are here. Bohai can manage by himself.”
She hesitated. “And you?”
“I’m going to protect Biyu; I’ll take her back to her chambers—” he started.
“No,” Vita said, firmly.
Something dangerous glittered in his eyes and his lips curled back into a frown. But before he could snap a response at her, she lifted her hand and said, “Take her to your room. It’s possible they’re here to kidnap the royals so they can have a rebellion with an actual figurehead.”
Another blast sounded from a dozen feet away from them. They both turned sharply to the noise, and Vita tightened her hold on her sword.
“Go to Her Majesty,” Nikator said. “I’ll take over here.”
“Stay safe.” Vita looked at Biyu, and her eyes softened the slightest bit. “Both of you.”
And then she was off in the opposite direction while more intruders flooded the library.
Thick magic filled the air, stinging Biyu’s nose and nearly choking her.
The mages must have been fighting. How many people had Yat-sen ordered here?
She didn’t think he had this much power.
This much influence. But maybe he had made connections with the rebel army—that was the only explanation for this.
Another masked man entered the narrow hall and threw a short knife at them. Nikator deflected it expertly while Biyu dropped to her knees, a scream on her lips.
“Stay by my side!” Nikator shouted.
Her body shook as he fought off more men.
She crawled away from him and the intruders he fought.
Her hands slipped on the sticky blood pooling all over the floor.
Suddenly, she wasn’t here anymore—she was back in time, five years ago, with a cacophony of screams filling the air just like this and the iron scent of blood filling her nostrils.
She squeezed her eyes shut, releasing shuddering breaths.
She had a mission to accomplish.
Yat-sen had created this opportunity; she couldn’t freeze in fear.
Biyu wiped her quaking fingers on her dress, smearing the blood as she rose to her feet.
She inhaled, exhaled, and then glanced at Nikator.
There were two bodies at his feet, crumpled at odd angles, and two men against him.
He moved fluidly, lethally, and with more skill than they possessed. It wouldn’t take him long to kill them.
He would be safe, she realized with relief. Now, it was time for her to spring to action.
Biyu stepped over the corpses near her—the first people he had killed—and sprinted down the pathway between the bookshelves.
“Biyu!” Nikator said. “It’s not safe! Come back—”
She didn’t look over at him again as she rounded the corner.
All around her, people were engaged in battle.
Three mages fought against a horde of intruders, black and blue shadowy magic whipping throughout the air in thick tendrils, and smokeless fire erupting from their hands.
Her heart seized in fear, but she pushed herself forward, numbing her mind to the images she saw.
The bloodied, pulpy mess of faces. The slit throats. The burned remains. Her stomach heaved.
Control yourself.
Breathe in, out, in—calm down, Biyu.
She burst through the exit of the library and found herself in the mage quarters.
She recalled the map Yat-sen had given her; she had memorized it, and now that the fog of anxiety was lifting, she could remember the twisting paths that led to the warding room.
She passed by more people engaged in battle, but the intruders seemed to ignore her as they fought off the mages—they likely knew that she was a part of this plan.
She had never been to this part of the palace, even before Drakkon Muyang had taken the throne, but the winding paths were somehow familiar; she knew the way to go.
She ran, thighs burning, lungs panting, eyes darting—she dodged wayward attacks from mages fighting against the intruders, she ducked, pushed, and ignored the mangled bodies, the cries for help, the screams.
The only thing on her mind was the ward room.
There were more mages and guards here, and the intruders knew that too, because they swarmed this place, keeping them busy for her to slip by.
“Biyu!” Nikator called for her.
She didn’t have to turn around to know he was gaining on her.
She rounded another corner, her chest clenching as she saw the door to the ward room.
One mage rolled on the floor with a masked attacker holding him in a chokehold, while sparks sputtered from the mage’s hand.
Biyu’s eyes widened and she forced herself to look away from him as she ran up and yanked the handle.
She didn’t want to think of how many lives would be lost—and had already been lost—for this one opportunity for her.
Inside, the area was spacious. Bookshelves chock full of scrolls, books, and thick tomes lined every wall in the windowless octagonal room.
At the center was a giant stone table with all sorts of magic crystals humming with magic, the air dense with it.
Some parchment lay on the surface, and she wondered if one of them was the warding spell with her blood on it.
She slammed the door shut and sprinted to the table.
Her hands trembled as she scanned the various open scrolls.
They were all sorts of wards—some for protecting the lotus wing, some for protecting the inner palace from wayward magic attacks, some for the perimeter of the palace.
All of them served different purposes, too.
She pushed them around, skimming over the contents.
“Biyu!” Nikator burst through the door, the wood splintering and spraying across the room. Blood ran down the side of his face and bloomed on his shoulder. His eyes were wide and wild, and when they met her, disbelief colored them. “What—what are you doing?”
Her hand rested on one of the crinkled papers. She swallowed down the fear and guilt nearly choking her. He was bleeding, profusely, and she hated that she was one of the reasons behind this. That she would be breaking more than just the wards.
“I didn’t have a choice,” she whispered, a sob strangling her.
“What are you doing?” he asked, softer, his gaze landing on the parchment in her hand. “Get away from there, Biyu. Come back here. This must all be a mistake?”
“Nikator …”
“You couldn’t have—” He shook his head, as if he couldn’t believe it. As if he didn’t think she had claws and teeth, like he had first suspected. And her heart clenched at the expression he wore, the dawning horror on his face. “Please, Biyu. Step away from there. Come back to me.”
“You know I can’t.”
“Biyu, please.”
Her face crumpled. She hated this. Hated that she was doing this to him. “I’m sorry.”
“You always have a choice.” His words came out pleading, eyeing the ward spell she held. “You weren’t behind any of this, were you? This is all a mistake, right? Someone put you up to this. Who?”
Her lower lip wobbled. She hated seeing the betrayal on his face, the way he was searching her face for something, and failing to find it.
Pain twisted in her chest and she wasn’t sure if it was her own, or if she was feeling his through the bond.
She gritted her teeth together. He had to see that she had no choice.
How could she continue living as a prisoner with no choices for anything in her life?
Even the clothes she had were all chosen for her.
The foods she was allowed to eat. The times she was allowed to leave.
All of it was against her will. It wasn’t any way to live.
This wasn’t wrong of her to do. She had no choice.
“I’m sorry, Nikator, but … but I had to.” She picked up the paper. It had four smears of blood—Liqin’s, Biyu’s, Yat-sen’s, and Daewon’s.
“Put that down,” he said slowly. His hands clenched, and the disbelief seemed to fade to something else—something akin to rage, or maybe hurt.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Was it all a lie?” He looked like she had struck him. His lips parted, then closed. “Did you … spend time with me so you could do this?”
“Nik—”
He laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I fell for it all. Fuck. I knew—I knew you were up to something, but I thought … I thought things had changed. It was all a lie.”
“No, no.” Her eyes filled with tears and she hated how she couldn’t stop trembling. “That’s not—”
Nikator lunged at her, and she ripped the paper in half the instant he tackled her to the floor.
Her head almost bounced on the hard surface, but he wrapped his hand around it to dull the impact.
Still, the air was knocked out of her and stars danced in her vision.
She struggled to sit while he wrestled the two halves of the parchment from her hand.
“Stop—” she started.
He tore it away from her and pieced it together as he rose to his feet.
He skimmed over it quickly and his face went slack, a fire burning in those sapphire eyes of his. “What have you done?”
“I didn’t have a choice! I’ve been a prisoner my whole—”
The sound of rumbling erupted all around them.
Biyu clutched the side of the table and hoisted herself up as the palace trembled and dust fell from the ceiling.
The tremors halted, but air grew dense with magic.
Thick, roiling, and pervasive. She could taste it in her mouth—like ash.
Like something trying to spark to life. Like something that had been slumbering for a long time and was finally unleashed.
Nikator’s wide eyes met hers. They both seemed to come to the same realization: Yat-sen’s powers had returned.