Chapter 14
14
When I left the infirmary, I was too tired to put on a brave face. I had no idea what any of this meant. Was I destined for catastrophe? Would I be the one to cause all of it? The Tower card looked so similar to my palace—was it actually predicting the future? I braced myself against one of the walls in the house—I didn’t know which one. I hardly knew where I was; my head was still spinning. I had to catch my breath. I was barely staying on my feet.
Gani couldn’t help me. The tarot cards had shown me fire and destruction and despair. He’d said the cards could be interpreted in several ways, but I wasn’t sure there was any outlook other than total disaster. With a sinking pit in my stomach, I knew I really was doomed.
“MJ?”
Qian stood at the far end of the hall, looking every bit like Prince Charming. His bow was strung across his back, and his quiver was at his hip. He stared at me curiously, growing more concerned the longer he did. His brow furrowed as he approached, and I smiled, but I knew it looked forced. When he stopped in front of me, I caught his familiar scent of bergamot.
“Are you all right?” he asked. He stretched his hand out to me, but he stopped himself just short of touching my arm. “Did something happen?”
“I’m okay.” I pressed my hand to my forehead and took a breath. Being out of the infirmary was helping, but so was Qian’s presence.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost. Are you sure?”
“I appreciate the concern,” I said. “I think I just need some air.”
“Let’s walk together,” he said, gesturing with a dip of his head toward the outside.
Since I was still reeling, the best I could do was nod. Qian fell into step at my side, watching me. Maybe he was worried I was going to faint; I certainly felt like it.
“I hope you don’t have somewhere to be,” I said, trying to lighten the mood.
“I was going to practice, but I’ve actually been wanting to spend more time with you. I missed you at breakfast. It’ll be my pleasure.” His eyes shone, and he smiled.
My cheeks warmed, and I smiled back, for real this time. “Thank you. I’d like that.”
Side by side, we walked out of the great house and onto the grounds. The day was bright and promising, and I tipped my head back to soak up the sunlight, closing my eyes against the bright sky, and took a deep breath. Doing so made me feel like I was coming back to life. Qian must have sensed that I was feeling better, too, because he said, “There, that’s more like it. You’re looking more like yourself again.”
“A grisly sight before, I bet.”
“Not at all. While it makes for quite a romantic scene, I’d prefer it if maidens didn’t faint in my arms.”
“I’m a maiden?”
“When in the presence of monsters, we all have our roles to play.”
My heart lurched, and I was at a loss for words. Qian didn’t seem to notice, though. “I think the creature only comes out at night,” I said, “so you don’t have to worry about me. We still have a few hours until sunset.”
“Whatever is haunting these grounds, we need to be careful. I’ve sent my men all over, setting traps and the like to stop it before it hurts anything else.” He looked me over again, taking in my face. “I certainly hope word about the monster isn’t upsetting you.”
“No!” I said, a little too quickly.
“It’s okay to be afraid. I admit, though, the reason I’m escorting you now is to make sure that you’re looked after.”
“I’m not as helpless as you think,” I said.
“No, but if anything were to happen to you, I don’t think I could live with myself.”
I blushed at that. The only other person who cared about my well-being so vehemently was Lucas. “Where’s Nix? Are you giving her the same treatment?”
“I last saw her in the library, perfectly safe indoors.”
I thought about joining her there, telling her all about what had happened with Gani, but I found that I liked being with Qian, too. This was the perfect time to get him to come to an understanding about all this. If I couldn’t save myself, there was still a chance to give Nix her freedom.
“It’s been nice, having all of us here. Seeing members of Jade Mountain and my court bonding is all I could have asked for. Have you considered more about letting Nix stay in Biringan City?” I asked as we followed a dirt path through the jungle.
“I’m hesitant to let her go. I heard rumors about a monster attacking a couple in your city before we left. I thought you said that Biringan had no monsters.”
“We don’t…”
“Then you may not know your kingdom as well as you think.”
I clamped my mouth shut. He was more right than I wanted to believe. “You take your duty very seriously, don’t you? Hunting monsters.”
Qian regarded me for a long moment; then he took a deep, measured breath. “My younger brother was killed by one—a jiangshi. The same one that gave me this scar.” He pointed to his shoulder, and my blood ran cold. “Of course I take it seriously.”
I remembered the day I came to his room and saw all the scars on his body. His pain ran deeper than that. I remembered he’d said the jiangshi was a reanimated corpse that sucked the qi—the life force—out of humans.
“How did it…” I began to say, but then I trailed off, wondering if I should ask. I realized we’d become closer, but could he trust me enough with the story? He looked at me as if he, too, was gauging how he wanted to respond. I swallowed thickly and tried not to look away, because Qian’s gaze on me was steady and, for what seemed like the first time, trusting. Finally, Qian gave in.
“I was ten years old. Even though it happened so long ago, I remember the day so clearly…” he said, his gaze distant, piercing through the dense jungle. Then he smiled. “My brother Xiaolong loved cats and sweets and, most of all, playing games. He was always the one who could make anything fun, even during a long day of our father’s ceremonies. He was often getting into trouble because of it, but no one could hold it against him for too long. Everyone adored him. We would play games for hours together—games he made up or games that we had lying around the palace. His favorite was Go. It’s a game of strategy, incredibly complex and difficult to master. But I think that’s why he liked it so much. It’s all about endless potential. You never play the same match twice. He would want to play every day, even when we weren’t near a board. So instead of stones, we used different-colored adzuki beans that we stole from the kitchens so we could play anywhere. He would always beat me, too.” He laughed brightly, and it made me smile, too, even though I knew how this story was going to end.
“One night, we were up late playing Go well past our bedtime. There was a scratching noise at the door, and we thought it was one of our pet cats, so Xiaolong got up to let it in while I reset the board. But after a while, he didn’t come back.
“I went to check on him, half expecting him to leap out as a prank, but what I saw instead…” Qian let out a huff of breath like he’d been punched in the gut, and he looked pained at the memory, but he continued despite it. “I found him in the hallway with what I thought was a mandarin—one of Father’s officials in a long robe and tall brimmed hat. He was holding Xiaolong by the face. I called out to them, but Xiaolong didn’t move. His body twitched like he was having some kind of fit, and the mandarin, well, he wasn’t a mandarin at all. The jiangshi dropped Xiaolong and turned to me, not turning its head but its whole body. It was as stiff as a board, its skin a deep shade of green, arms stretched forward as if searching for something to hold. A paper talisman was attached to the middle of its forehead, and its pale white eyes were fixated on me.
“Jiangshi can’t walk or run—this one hopped , knees and legs locked, arms outstretched to me, gaining more speed. I’d never seen anything like it before. I didn’t know what else to do. So I did the only thing I could…I ran.
“I ran back into the game room. It tried to grab me, just scraping my shoulder, and it burned like fire. I tripped over the Go board, knocking down all the pieces when I hit the floor. I couldn’t get up fast enough. The jiangshi was almost on me, but before it pounced, it stopped. I didn’t understand why it didn’t attack me. All I wanted to do was get away, but I couldn’t move, I couldn’t scream. I just watched it as its gaze darted around the floor, at all the beans, and that’s when I realized it was counting them. I only learned later that the jiangshi have an innate desire to count. They can’t do anything else until they’re done. I’d unknowingly set a trap. It gave me enough time to get away and get help.
“It turned out that a vengeful priest had raised the corpse to try to assassinate my father. Xiaolong was just in the way. If he’d stayed with me, if I’d been the one to go to the door…Xiaolong would still be alive.”
When Qian stopped talking, he took a deep breath and nodded, as if he’d finally gotten it all off his shoulders and into the open. I could tell the memory hurt. The guilt he carried was heavier than any crown.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “That’s horrible.”
“At least Xiaolong didn’t suffer. He didn’t have time to know what was happening when the jiangshi consumed all his qi…But I made a promise from that day forth that I’d never let anything like that happen again, especially not to anyone in my family. And I promised myself that I would never run away, never again.” He showed me his right hand, gesturing to a jade ring on his thumb. “This is my archer’s ring. It’s a hunter’s mark.”
“It’s beautiful,” I said.
Qian tipped his head and smiled. “Thank you.”
I couldn’t think of anything else to say, but it seemed like Qian didn’t mind the silence, so we quietly continued our walk through the jungle. His gaze remained distant, like he was caught in a memory, but he held his head high. To have lived through something like that sounded traumatic and terrible, and it made sense why he would be so protective of his family after surviving such a thing. I understood completely why he wanted to keep Nix close.
“I bet your brother would be really proud of you,” I said.
Qian smiled sadly. “I think so, too. Though I haven’t been able to bring myself to play another game of Go since then, and I imagine he would be upset about that. It just doesn’t feel the same without him. Though I think with the right company, I could play again.” His eyes locked on mine. The implication made my stomach flutter.
“Who, me? I’ve never played Go before,” I said. “I’d probably be so bad at it, I’d be doing Xiaolong’s memory a disservice.”
“I doubt that. Everyone starts somewhere. But if you’re so set on diminishing your abilities, I can think of a number of other activities I’d like to do with you…” His words were silky smooth. He flashed me a rakish grin, like he knew exactly what was happening and was pleased with himself about it.
My brain couldn’t quite process it, and the way Qian was watching me made me all the more flustered. For once, the horrible, hungry voice in my head was quiet. Unlike when I was with Lucas, it didn’t lash out. It occurred to me only now how alone Qian and I were, and my heart skipped a little at the thought of it. I wasn’t afraid of Qian, not in the slightest. Being with him was normal and felt suspiciously like we were on a date.
We could share a kiss here, and no one would know about it.
The idea sent a thrill through me. But he was still Nix’s brother, and he was off-limits. I couldn’t believe I could think such a thing. Besides, I couldn’t be as open and honest with him as he was with me. I couldn’t tell him my deepest, darkest secret. He hunted monsters, and I was turning into one. It didn’t matter that I was starting to like him or that he might like me; we couldn’t be together.
But he smiled at me with an easiness and warmth that made it hard for me to look at anything else. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking, but a part of me was afraid to know. Could there really be more happening between us, or was I just imagining things?
“Why were you so troubled earlier?” Qian asked. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not particularly. It’s…a lot.”
“I could tell.”
I sighed deeply and mustered the courage to be a little more forthcoming. “I had my fortune told. Tarot cards. And I didn’t like what I saw.”
“Your fortune?” Qian raised his eyebrows and jutted out his lower lip, as if he had expected me to say something different. “You believe that?”
“We live in a world full of magic. Is fortune-telling that far-fetched?”
Qian wrinkled his nose. “Fair point, but perhaps I’m more unwilling to let a deck of cards tell me what’s to come. Life is too complex. And I’d much rather live in the moment than worry about what might happen. Wouldn’t you?” He smiled again, and it made me feel better.
“I like that a lot, actually,” I said. “I guess I’m just looking for answers wherever I can get them.”
“Life’s all about little surprises.” He plucked a flower from a nearby tree and presented it to me. It was an orchid, its white-and-pink petals looking like candy. He placed the flower behind my ear, and the tips of his fingers brushed my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. “Did the cards by chance tell you that I would do that?”
“They did not,” I said, trying to maintain my composure, but a smile crept its way onto my lips. “I’d love to see what other surprises you have in store.”
Qian’s smile spread wider, and something sparked in his eyes that made my stomach swoop. I hadn’t meant to say it like that…or had I? Talking with Qian had become so natural. I looked at him— really looked at him—and it was then that I realized how good I felt when he looked back at me. Saw me. I felt wanted, and it surprised me just how much I’d missed that feeling.
But when bright sunlight cut across our faces, our gazes on each other broke.
We had unknowingly come upon a low stone wall surrounding a large clearing in the hillside. Hundreds of stone slabs jutted out of the soft grass, the older ones covered in moss and vines the farther into the clearing they went.
“It’s a graveyard,” I said, taken aback by the scene at first, but then I recognized the insignias on some of the grave markers. “It’s the final resting place of some of my ancestors.”
“It’s certainly a beautiful place to be laid to rest,” Qian said, eyes on the jungle surrounding us. Everything was lush and green and full of life. It wasn’t creepy, like I would have otherwise expected.
At the very center of the graveyard was a stone mausoleum. It was one of the oldest buildings in the graveyard. It looked like it had been consumed by the jungle itself. But the symbol above the door made me pause.
I recognized it, even if it was worn down by the elements and faded.
It was a triangle. Just like on the cover of the missing Princess Yara Liliana’s archive.
“What is it?” Qian asked. He’d noticed I was staring. “Is everything okay?”
I wasn’t quite sure. My body hummed with familiarity. Something tugged behind my sternum, drawing me forward. I approached the closed door and pressed my hand to the stone, wiping away the dirt and moss that had gathered there. But then I realized it wasn’t just a triangle. It was a delta.
Recognition resonated deep inside me, down to the marrow of my bones. In math and science, delta was the symbol for change.
“I have to check something,” I said.
Qian didn’t stop me as I pushed open the door, crossed the threshold, and entered the mausoleum.
The first thing I noticed was the smell. The air was distinctly thick and musty, like laundry left in the machine too long, and it took a second for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. It pooled through holes in the mausoleum’s roof, casting pillars of light down from above and throwing the rest of the room into shadow.
Qian followed me, moving quietly, perhaps reverently, because in the very center of the room was a stone sarcophagus. Lying atop the lid was a stone carving of a woman, her hands resting on her stomach, holding a crown. Her face was carved with such precision, her delicate features so lifelike that I almost wondered if she would sit up and talk to me.
“Looking for something in particular?” Qian asked.
“Does she look familiar to you?” I asked, still staring at the woman’s face.
“I don’t think so. Do you know her?”
“From somewhere…” Then it hit me. I’d seen her face when we first arrived. “That’s the lady of the mountain.”
Qian’s eyes widened when he realized I was right. She looked exactly like the statue from the fountain in the great house. “It’s probably a coincidence.”
I wasn’t so sure about that.
The tomb had been long forgotten. No one had visited this place in centuries. Cracks in the sarcophagus had spread like spiderwebs along its base; one created a hole big enough I could see inside. A name had been carved in the stone.
Yara Liliana.
It was the missing princess. I’d found her after all. I almost couldn’t believe it. Gani had mentioned that the future wasn’t set in stone, but I couldn’t help but wonder if I was supposed to be here right now. As if… I was meant to find her.
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end when a breeze cut through the mausoleum. I rubbed my arms, stamping out the chill, and my eyes set on the statue’s face. She looked barely older than me. What happened to her? I wondered. What was she doing here?
Something wasn’t right. None of this made sense. Why hadn’t the historians recorded her death? Why was she hidden away in the mountains? Why had they erased her from the history books? Why was she buried in the middle of the jungle, never to be spoken of again? I had to see for myself.
I put my hands on the lid of the sarcophagus. “Help me,” I told Qian.
“I didn’t take you for a grave robber.”
“Just help me, please.”
Qian didn’t protest again. Together, he and I shifted the lid ever so slightly, letting the sunlight pour into the casket.
But it was empty.
There was no body. No bones. Nothing at all to suggest anything had been placed inside.
Yara Liliana wasn’t here.
I almost didn’t hear the sound coming from behind me; I was too focused on the empty sarcophagus. Qian did, though. He grabbed me tightly around the arm and yanked me off my feet.
My back hit the floor of the mausoleum, and I let out a yelp, but Qian clamped his hand over my mouth and put his own fingers to his lips, quieting me.
In a panic, I tried to shove him off, but the fear in his eyes made me freeze, and that’s when I heard it, too—the heavy whoosh of wings pumping through the air, massive and rhythmic.
Qian lifted his hand off my mouth, and I hardly dared to breathe. We were so close to each other—he was shielding me with his body; our hearts were practically touching. He leaned over me, turning his head ever so slightly to see out the open door.
Every bone in my body was trembling. I couldn’t even think. Instead, I focused on the lines of Qian’s face, the edge of his jaw, the thump of his pulse in his neck, the curve of his ear. He didn’t seem to be breathing, either.
Whatever had made that noise, it sounded like it was moving away from us, the flap of its wings growing fainter.
Then the ground shook, and the both of us tensed up. Something huge had landed just outside the mausoleum, but I couldn’t see what it was. I didn’t think Qian could, either. His gaze was hard, fixed on the open door, ready to strike. The creature squawked and chattered like a bird, and then there came a sound like branches breaking, followed by a horrible squelching noise. That was when I realized it wasn’t branches breaking—it was bones and flesh. The sound turned my stomach.
There was another rush of flapping wings, this time far away, and a shadow cut across the door when something took to the sky. Was there more than one?
But all had gone quiet outside. Qian and I waited with bated breath, listening, but I couldn’t hear anything except for my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.
Was it gone?
Qian looked at me, grim determination setting into his features. He mouthed, “Stay here.”
I shook my head, but he lifted himself off me and went to the door, crouching low. He slipped his bow off his back and peered around the corner into the graveyard and then darted out into the open, leaving me in the mausoleum. He was quiet as a hunter.
A mixture of panic and frustration swirled inside me. I didn’t know what to do, but I didn’t want to hide here and leave Qian all alone. I scrambled to my feet and looked out into the graveyard. It was empty, with no sign of Qian or whatever that thing was. Was it safe to go out?
“Qian?” I whispered once, and then again, a little louder, “Qian.”
No answer.
I didn’t like this. Light on my toes, I left the mausoleum and crept across the grass. Nothing moved among the headstones, and I couldn’t find any trace of Qian. I moved around the building, keeping an eye on the sky, and stumbled upon a collection of large branches nestled up against the back of the mausoleum. At first, I thought it was the result of a fallen tree, but the closer I looked, the more I realized how precisely the branches had been placed.
It was a nest.
Inside it were a few eggs, each as large as a basketball, and nestled among them was a decapitated horse’s head. It stared at me with lifeless white eyes, its blood coating the nest’s branches. I stumbled back and clamped my hand over my mouth to stop from screaming. We needed to get out of here right now.
A shadow loomed over me, and I looked up.
Sitting on top of the mausoleum roof, its wings spread wide enough to block the sun, was a giant birdlike creature, almost as big as the mausoleum itself. It had scales and feathers, and its black eyes were fixated on me.
I froze, cold with dread.
Talons the size of kitchen knives clutched the mausoleum roof, and its wings looked just as razor-like, with feathers glistening like blades. The creature opened its beak and revealed dozens of sharp teeth. It let out an earsplitting shriek, then leapt from the roof, talons pointing at me.
I screamed and threw out my hands.
An arrow sliced through the air from my right, hitting the bird in the eye. It let out a screech and crumpled to the ground at my feet. It was dead in an instant.
“MJ!” Qian ran out from his cover behind a headstone and rushed to my side.
I grabbed on to him, clinging for dear life as he wrapped his arm around me and held me tight. I buried my face in his shirt. “I thought I was going to die!”
“Are you all right?” he asked. He held me at arm’s length and looked me over, brushing my hair out of my face, worry hardening his eyes. He’d saved me. He was a real hero.
“I’m okay,” I said. My heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest, but seeing Qian, I knew I was safe. “What was that thing?”
We both looked at the bird. It was like something out of my nightmares.
“I don’t know,” Qian said. “Whatever it is, it’s dead. It won’t hurt anyone anymore.”