Chapter 8 Yue
Risk comes with reward.
This is it, I think. The human is going to kill me.
His hold loosens from around my throat.
With my remaining strength, I throw my elbows back and push him away. He falls to the side with a wet cough, blood spilling from his lips.
And we just… lie there.
Our minds are exhausted and our bodies destroyed. Black creeps from the edges of my vision, my eyelids are too heavy to keep open. It would be so easy to give in. To let myself rest until there’s nothing at all.
“If you didn’t eat that little girl, who did?” he asks me gruffly.
It takes me forever to catch my breath. “I do not know, but it wasn’t me.”
“And I’m supposed to believe your word?”
“Believe whatever you wish. I’m telling the truth.”
I feel a dull stab of pain against my forearm. Little more than a pinprick. Given all of my other wounds, I could have imagined it.
“Make a deal with me, demon.” The captain’s words come hoarse, barely above a whisper.
Whatever snappy remark I have wilts on the tip of my tongue as a sudden scourge of dizziness grips my mind.
I lift a hand and press it to the back of my head.
My fingers come away black and sticky. A head wound, severe at that.
It must have happened when I fell. Running on pure adrenaline has seen me this far, but now my injuries are finally taking their toll.
I’m sluggish, every thought and movement laced in confusion.
“What?” I croak.
“A deal. With me. Demons make deals, do they not?”
It’s a little-known truth that, when asked a direct question, demons cannot lie.
For what reason, I haven’t the faintest clue.
It’s written into our beings, a trade-off of sorts for our strengths.
Perhaps the gods looked upon my kind eons ago and feared the twisted lies we’d whisper in their ears, and so condemned us to speak the truth when questioned as one of our only shining qualities.
“Yes, we make deals,” I answer tightly.
He speaks between labored breaths. “Spare my life and help me escape this place.”
I want to laugh, but the sound comes out as a squeak. I think one of my lungs is punctured. “Why”—I wheeze—“would I ever agree to that?”
“Would you prefer to die?”
“No, but this is nothing,” I murmur. “I’ll heal. It will take time, but it’s going to take more than a fall to do me in.”
“I’m not talking about the fall.”
I strain my neck to glare at him. “What are you on about?”
Even through swollen eyes, the captain glances down at my forearm.
I follow his line of sight, startled to find my fair skin has begun to fester.
That pinprick… it wasn’t a figment of my imagination after all.
A black ooze spreads beneath the surface of my arm, tendrils of ink reaching and squirming like a squid marooned on land.
The ghastly sight brings with it a burning sensation.
Liquid fire spreads through my veins, searing everything in its path.
“What have you done?” I seethe.
“Poison,” he replies, almost smug. “Derived from the feathers of a Zhenniao bird. I always”—he coughs—“keep a needle or two on hand.”
All I can do is glare, my heart hammering.
I’d seen a handful of those pretty birds before, back when my sisters and I still called the jungle our home.
They might be extinct now. I haven’t seen one in ages.
It wouldn’t be a surprise if the humans had hunted them to death, or perhaps they did the smart thing and left the jungle for safer skies.
I remember its body was small, as were its wings, but its tail feathers were so long that they spilled out from over their nests and almost touched the jungle floor.
I easily recall the brilliant violet of their plumage.
Lighter near its head, with an impressive crimson beak and a gorgeous, green-tipped tail.
I almost made the mistake of eating one as a pup, but my sisters saved me from a most horrific fate, for their feathers are so poisonous they could kill even a dragon stone-dead.
Even the gods are said to fear them, from the tales I’ve heard—one of the only things in existence strong enough to kill them.
And now I have a pin’s dose filtering through my bloodstream.
“I have… an antidote,” Sonam says around another breath. “Spare my life and see me from this place. Agree, and I’ll give the antidote to you.”
“You conniving little—” I speak around burning lungs. The poison is taking effect. I’ll be dead in a few minutes. Maybe sooner, given the state I’m in.
The reality of my situation finally settles.
I’ve been thrown into the pits of Hell with the very man who banished me here.
I don’t know if there’s a way out, and we may well end up killing each other first, even if there is.
Striking a deal with this heathen is the last thing I want to do, but I’m desperate enough to do it.
The fact that Sonam didn’t hesitate to bring his sword down upon my neck gives me pause, however.
He spared me, that much is true, but to willingly work with this human could be my death sentence.
He tried to hurt me once; who’s to say he won’t try again the moment he’s free to—I will not risk my neck on a human’s fickle whim.
My body seizes, every muscle suddenly pulling tight.
I try to scream, but the sound is choked out of me.
I can’t see clearly, can’t even hear the sound of my own thoughts.
My arm has turned completely black, the poison spreading up and over my shoulder toward my neck and chest. If it reaches my heart, I’m done for.
Death sours the air around us. We’re both running out of time.
Curse it all.
“Fine,” I finally answer. “We have a deal, but give me the antidote first.” He eyes me warily, prompting me to say, “You can’t get what you want if I bloody well die first.”
“How do I know you won’t run off? We’ll do it at the same time.”
A growl rumbles in my throat. What a loathsome little ant. At first opportunity, I will crush him beneath my heel. “So be it.”
Gritting his teeth, Sonam reaches for something tucked into one of the loops of his belt. A needle of some sort. He plucks it between his fingers. As he does so, I snatch his dagger, only for Sonam to grab my wrist.
“What are you playing at?” he snaps.
“Spare me your whingeing,” I snarl. “I require an offering.”
“What—”
I take his hand roughly and drag the blade across his palm before doing the same to mine.
While his blood flows red, mine comes in a startling onyx.
I grab his hand and press his wound firmly to my own, allowing our blood to mix.
Where humans have no magic of their own, and the gods are an infinite well, demons can boast only a handful of spells—blood oaths being a particular specialty.
“Gods above and devils below, witness us our accord. A cure for escape, escape for a cure, command our bodies be restored.”
The moment I’ve finished my incantation, he jams the antidote into my thigh.
Relief comes in the form of a wave. It swells, crests, and then crashes into me.
I can finally breathe again, the firestorm raging within now quenched by the overwhelming flood that follows.
I’ll admit I was worried he wouldn’t follow through on his promise.
Healing is a violent storm. My bones crack back into place like lightning.
Every inch of my skin burns as if pelted by ice shards.
Sonam writhes in similar agony, though I only hear him cry out once when the shattered bones of his ribs crunch into position.
His cheeks are flushed, and his brow is slick with sweat, but at least he’s alive.
“You look horrendous,” I grumble once I’ve managed a breath.
“You’re one to talk,” he replies pointedly, struggling to sit up.
“Are you feeling better?”
“Yes, I—”
“Good.”
I clench my fist and punch him square in the face. I never said anything about keeping my hands off of him. So long as I keep him breathing, I’m not in violation of my contract.
He groans loudly, pinching his bloodied nose. “What in the nine suns was that for, Fox?”
“This is all your fault! None of this would have happened if it hadn’t been for you. If you wanted to go to Hell so badly, you could have just asked me to kill you.”
We’re back at each other’s throats. He reaches for his dagger; I kick it away.
I bring down my hand to strike; he throws his weight at me and tackles me to the ground.
We spend a good few minutes like this, a give and take with no clear victor, until we’re both thoroughly exhausted once more.
I have never felt a more destructive loathing.
I don’t even hate the Maskmaker at this moment as much as I do this pitiful human stain.
We sit apart, fuming. Sonam rolls his head from side to side, stretching his neck. “Pulling me through the gates with you was wholly unnecessary.”
“I thought I was going to die!”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry? Monsters like you—”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Why? It’s what you are.”
“Don’t test me, human.”
“What’s the worst you can do?” Sonam snaps.
“I’m going to rip your damn heart out.”
“I would love to see you try, Fox.”
I think about it. I truly, genuinely think about it.
I can beat him black and blue all I want, but if there’s ever a moment where his heart stops, I will suffer the punishment.
The blood magic that binds me to him will obliterate me in the blink of an eye.
I’ve seen it happen. I know the consequences—not that I’m keen to tell Sonam any of that.
He might try to lord it over my head somehow.
“You’re insufferable,” I mutter.
“Whine all you want, but your stubbornness is going to see us both killed.”
“I don’t trust you.”
“Nor I, you.” Sonam takes a deep, slow breath before exhaling sharply. “We’re not going to make it far if we don’t work together. We need a… truce.” The last word sounds like he’s fighting back a gag.
“Your enthusiasm strikes great confidence,” I say, eyeing him up and down suspiciously.
“The sooner we work together, the sooner we can leave.” The captain’s face is impassable, as hard as the carved jade of his family home. There’s a heavy tension in the air, our eyes locked onto one another—two vipers ready to strike.
I lean in as close as I dare. “You may have your truce,” I whisper, “but the moment we get out of here and our deal is done, I’ll kill you.”
“Likewise, Fox.”
“Yue.”
He frowns. “What?”
“My name,” I tell him as I stand. “It’s Yue, since you never bothered to ask.”
“Moon?” he translates. “That’s far too delicate a name for a demon—”
I kick him in the chest. Not hard enough to break what’s just been repaired, but with enough strength to get the message across. He lands on his back with an unceremonious grunt, glaring daggers up at me. I ignore him and turn away.
I’m stronger than him. Faster, too. The only reason he managed to capture me in the first place was because he had help. But he’s all alone down here, not an ally in sight. He’d be foolish to forget that.
I take in my first few glimpses of my surroundings through renewed eyes.
Tales about the Ten Courts of Hell are common among the human folk.
It was hard not to overhear stories whenever I’d come to the city to hunt.
They’d pray to their gods, pray for their souls, fearing the oceans of devils and storms of liquid fire.
Where suffering is a universal language, agony a common song.
How wrong they were.
It first appears that we’ve arrived back at the capital city of Longhao.
Except it isn’t quite. It’s empty, abandoned of all life and drained of color.
The air is still and quiet. There are no songbirds to fill the silence, no idle chatter by the water markets, not even a whispering breeze.
My breaths come too loudly. I’m afraid that if I speak, I may shatter my own eardrums.
There’s little to no light here. The sky above is pitch-black.
No stars, no clouds, no moon, no sun. It’s as though someone’s taken a thick blanket and sewn it in place.
There is, however, a faint green light emanating from somewhere in the city, casting an almost sickly glow against the surrounding buildings.
I crane my head back to get a better look, feeling the segments of my spine pop one by one.
It’s the Jade Palace. A version of it, at least. It shines as a lighthouse on rocky shores, but I know not whether to run from it or be drawn to it.
This place isn’t right. It’s strange and dark and cold.
It smells rotten, putrid. The same horrible scent I detected back on the surface.
The Jade Palace above, the one on the mortal plane, must have been built directly above this hellish abomination. As above, so below.
“How do we get out of here, then?” Sonam asks.
“How should I know?”
“Don’t play games with me. All demons come from Hell.”
“You’re wrong.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was born on the surface.”
He shoots me an incredulous look. “How is that possible? I thought—”
I snort, hands on my hips. “You humans and your twisted tales. Demons are not born in Hell. We are born from human suffering. Be it rage, sorrow, pain, or lust—we come to be by your pathetic hands.”
The captain frowns deeply. “I don’t believe you.”
“If you’re not going to listen to me, don’t bother asking stupid questions.”
Sonam sets his jaw, too proud to speak his mind. I, however, am not above prodding. “What?” I ask. “Go on. Say it.”
“I look forward to killing you,” he replies bitterly.
“The feeling is mutual.”
We both eye Hell’s Jade Palace in the distance. It’s as good a starting point as any. Surely its jarring green glow must be some measure of its significance.
“Let’s head over there,” I say.
He takes the lead without discussion, his long strides making it difficult to keep pace. Something tells me that our reluctant alliance will test every ounce of my limited patience.
“Don’t fall behind, Fox,” Sonam calls over his shoulder. “Don’t expect me to carry you.”
I bite my tongue and swallow my growing anger.
Oh, I cannot wait to eat him.