Sacrifice (17 page)

He realized it was the sound of teeth knocking against each other, too fast and too loud to be humanly possible.

Kai Sen stiffened both of his arms so they didn’t tremble while he gripped his saber, raising it to meet this new enemy.

“So delicious,” the thing cooed in a husky voice. “So delightful.”

None of the demons he’d slaughtered had ever spoken before, and Kai Sen shuddered despite himself to hear this grotesque voice speak mortal words.

“Your master’s dead.” She paused an arm’s length away from him.

Kai Sen stood his ground, lifting his saber; ready.

The creature’s thick black hair lifted, although no air stirred within the chamber, revealing two faces wedged together on a misshapen head. Its four eyes were sunken holes, filling a third of its pale face, the lower part dominated by two yawning slashes for mouths, jammed with overlarge, perfect human teeth. “Now,” one mouth uttered. “
You
die,” the other mouth finished.

The thing was on top of Kai Sen before he could blink, the rabid clacking of teeth so loud it seemed to beat against his skull. Putrid saliva fell in thick ropes onto his arm and his throat, burning like fire. He tried to shove the demon off, but it had wound its limbs around him, tight as a lover, and he realized every part where it touched him was immobilized.

Losing control in his arms, his saber clattered to the stone floor. Still standing, he snapped his head back and slammed it into the demon, where its two faces joined in a lumpy seam. Her arms loosened a fraction, and Kai Sen took the advantage to barrel himself forward, as he still had control over his legs. But though the demon was the same height as him, it was strong—stronger than any he’d ever fought. The thing shuffled back a half-step, leering at him with both mouths, all teeth and no lips. Its arms tightened; then it hooked one long leg over his hip, trapping him, so his groin pressed against the thing, and they stood thigh to thigh.

Kai Sen felt all his will sucked from his limbs until his head was too heavy to hold up. He swayed on the one leg he could still feel and resisted the urge to lean into the demon, to rest his cheek on her shoulder. His vision bleared along the edges, as did his mind.

“Kai Sen.” Abbot Wu’s firm, low voice cut through the haze. The abbot—he was still alive.

Shaking his head, Kai Sen tried to ground himself into reality, even as the demon squeezed him tighter, robbing him of breath.

“Hellfire,” the abbot said and fell silent.

Hellfire
. Kai Sen didn’t know if he had enough strength left in him. But he clenched his jaw and drew on the magical strands of fire that floated in the air all around, stubbornly pulling on them. The element gathered and coalesced, until he felt like a wick dipped in oil, ready to be ignited.

The study exploded with blue flames so bright that Kai Sen was blinded. The demon reeled backward, shrieking—a sound so terrifying and inhuman that he forgot where he was for a long moment. When his vision returned, he saw that he was enveloped in hellfire. It didn’t harm him, as he wasn’t a creature of the underworld, but he felt a tingling across his skin, and the air wavered. He tasted it on his tongue, sharp and potent, like the air after a lightning strike.

The demon cowered now against a knocked-over shelf, its robe and hair lit in blue flames. Kai Sen raised his arms and directed the energy through his entire being, feeling the rush of it vibrate hot at his core, until a burst of fire shot from his palms, enveloping the demon. She clawed at her double face, continuing her unearthly shrieking, rending her flesh into bloodied strips. Kai Sen looked away, the sight too grotesque and the flames beginning to burn too bright, until the chamber filled with sudden silence, and the hellfire disappeared like a wink. The only thing that remained of the demon was a silhouette of her form in ash, smudged into the stone where she had been struck down.

He staggered toward Abbot Wu on trembling legs. The older man had fallen in the corner, one hand pressed to his abdomen. The front of his gold robe was soaked crimson, and blood ran between his fingers.

“No.” Kai Sen fell to his knees beside the abbot. He pulled his tunic off, bundling the fabric, and pressed it to the man’s wound. He had conspired against the abbot for months, despised him even, and yet part of him never stopped caring for the older man. Kai Sen could never forget his six-year-old self, cast off, shunned, and unwanted. And the one person to open his door and take him in had been Abbot Wu.

The abbot gave a weak shake of his head. “My spirit is barely tethered. Listen, Kai Sen.” Abbot Wu swallowed, throat working. “Everything is off balance. There’s a new breach into our world. The dark magic has grown stronger these past few days, allowing demons through. I tried—” he coughed, splattering blood “—to pinpoint where. You are powerful, Kai Sen. I’ve never seen one draw so strongly on the elements of magic. Use your gift to find the new location—”

“How, abbot?”

“The divining stone on my desk. Detects evil. I could never—” The abbot drew a rasping breath. “Get it to glow bright enough. You can.”

“I’ll try, Abbot Wu.”

“Be wary … not to draw too deeply on nature’s magic. It … will cost you.” With tremendous effort, the abbot moved his hand to grip Kai Sen’s arm. “You must make things right again. You are my chosen, the one to keep our secret and pass it on. To uphold the covenant.”

Kai Sen repressed a shudder, fought not to snatch his arm back from the man he had respected until half a year ago. Maybe the abbot had taken him in only to groom him for this role. But Abbot Wu saw it as an honor, a legacy. Kai Sen saw it for what it truly was: a corrupt contract between the mortals and gods. And the mortals lost every time.

“Abbot—”

“Promise me, Kai Sen. Take your vows. Devote yourself to a monk’s life.”

Kai Sen bowed his head, eyes blurring with both sweat and tears. “I promise, Abbot Wu,” he lied. “I’ll take your place and fix this.”

I’ll do everything to break what you have upheld for so long
, Kai Sen thought.

The abbot sighed, and his head lolled back. His hand slackened, releasing Kai Sen’s arm.

He was gone.

Kai Sen buried his face into the crook of his elbow and sobbed once, body tremoring from grief and exhaustion, from the lies he uttered to his mentor as his soul slipped into the afterlife. It had been no place for accusations and hard truths. Kai Sen would take those with him to his own grave. He tried to rise, hearing the screaming and chaos from beyond the study’s walls, but it felt as if all his bones had dissolved. Even his thoughts seemed liquefied.

The sickening scent of sulfur, blood, and sweat hung heavy in the air. His vision darkened, and he blinked, shaking his head, trying to clear it. There was no time to take care of Abbot Wu’s body now. Scanning the chamber, Kai Sen grabbed a tan robe hanging on a hook and gently laid it over the man’s body, covering his face.

He needed to join his brothers outside where there were more demons to slay.

Zhen Ni

It took twice as long to climb up the rope ladder as it had to come down it, Zhen Ni was shaking so badly. She would pause between rungs and bite her knuckles hard, the sharp pain helped to calm her nerves, to ground her. Skybright, whom she’d never seen cry in the last ten years, had always told her that tears were a silly thing. They made one’s eyes swell and snot run from the nose. They ruined the powder she had applied to Zhen Ni’s cheeks and the rouge on her lips. Tears were a nuisance and a waste of time. Zhen Ni smiled grimly as she struggled up another rung. Skybright had always been so practical—she always acted with sense. What would Skybright do in this instance?

Get out of there.

And survive.

When she finally dragged herself from the trap door, she doused her lantern and didn’t even allow herself a moment to rest, before rising on trembling legs and dragging a sleeve across her wet face. She had no inkling how long she had been down below or what time of day it was. Guards might be searching for her. Master Bei might have returned early from business.

The thought chilled her heart as she shoved the secret door closed and pushed the stone slab over it, then crept back out into the courtyard. By the slant of the sun, it was dusk, not yet time to take her evening meal. She forced herself to walk at a brisk pace and not run as fast and wildly as her heart was beating. It wouldn’t do to have one of the guards reporting to her husband that the lady was racing around the manor as if she’d lost her head. Zhen Ni swallowed. Poor choice of imagery.

She stopped at each corner and searched for the lotus flower pointing to her quarters, until she knew the way herself, recognizing some of the gardens and covered corridors leading back to her reception hall. She desperately wanted a bath but had no handmaids to help draw one for her. Instead, she took a short detour to the kitchen and asked for the cook to bring a large basin of hot water to her bedchamber. Zhen Ni had known the woman, Pei, almost all her life, and trusted her. Pei was twenty-five, of middle height but muscular, with a no-nonsense attitude even more brusque than Skybright’s had been.

She looked at Zhen Ni askance. “Been wrestling a hog?”

Zhen Ni glanced down at herself and saw how covered in dirt and dust she was. There was dirt even beneath her nails. “I fell,” she said in a weak voice. “Twice.”

Pei shook her head. She didn’t need to wear her hair in buns; she opted to have it cropped short to her ears. “I’ll bring the water as soon as it’s heated. And a pot of tea. Or would you prefer wine?”

Zhen Ni swallowed. “I think I would like the wine.”

“I’ll ask Rose to take some to you straightaway.”

Zhen Ni shook her head. “I gave both girls the day off.”

Pei grunted. “I’ll make two trips then. That means it’s just you and me and those lurking guards in the manor tonight, Lady Bei. And I trust those men as much as I’d trust a two-headed rat. They watch me too hungrily as I butcher the meat.”

Zhen Ni wrapped her arms around herself, and the cook’s face softened. “Go. Return to your quarters. I’ll come soon.”

She stumbled into her reception hall as the sun was setting. But instead of collapsing into the chair like she desperately wanted to, she kneeled on the cold floor and began rummaging through one of the many chests she had brought with her from home. Finally, she drew out a small chime that Skybright had given her as a gift. They were pieces of round opalescent shells threaded through silver wire. It used to hang right outside her reception hall at home and would chime delicately whenever there was a small breeze. She grabbed a green ribbon and tied it to the chime, then knotted it to the inside handle of her reception hall door.

Now, the chime would warn her when anyone was sliding the door open.

Even those few moments could count for something.

Zhen Ni had taken dinner alone, although Pei had kept her company, not saying much. But the woman’s presence was reassurance enough. She felt as if she had been cast aside and abandoned on her own small island with no friends or familiar faces to comfort her. Without her handmaids to help draw a full bath, she had wiped herself clean as best she could with the water Pei had heated for her, then changed into her sleep clothes by herself before crawling into bed, weighted down by exhaustion.

She kept all the lanterns burning, as she used to after she’d had a nightmare as a child. If only matters were so simple. Skybright would often climb into bed with her on those nights, and they’d hold hands until Zhen Ni fell asleep again.

Hours passed, yet still, she could not fall asleep, unable to put aside the atrocities she had seen deep beneath the manor. Was that baby sleeping now, contented after gorging upon human bodies?

The soft scraping sound of her bedchamber door opening made her entire being grow cold. She forced herself to lie still, keeping her breathing even, as if she were asleep. She felt the dark shape of her husband standing in the doorway, eyes upon her, could smell the scent of fire burning that seemed to linger on him.