The general looked confused. “Jidi Majia was adamant that you needed to sacrifice yourself.”
“And I did,” Bingmei said. “But not in a tomb. I was chosen to become the mother of the phoenix reborn. Others came before me, chosen for the same destiny, but none managed to fulfill it. I have a son. But the dragon Xisi has taken my child.”
She looked around the room. There were only men there—men like Tzu, Budai, Zhumu, and some of the trusted counselors and rulers from the allied kingdoms. No women were in the room, other than herself.
“I did not know this would happen when I crossed the Death Wall,” she continued. “I lost everyone from my ensign except for my faithful friend, Quion. But he is not the father of my child. That knowledge must remain secret. King Zhumu, you have at least one traitor among you. Spies for the dark lord. They tell him your plans. So I ask each of you, in this room, to declare your loyalty to General Tzu. I know you have all taken an oath of loyalty. Speak it again now. I will know if you have betrayed him.”
She stepped up to the first man, a ruler she didn’t know.
“You . . . you are suggesting that I am the betrayer?” he demanded in outrage. She felt nervousness coming from him.
“Just say the words,” she replied. “I will know.”
“I-I am loyal,” he stammered. “I am the son of Mingzhi, king of Tuqiao.”
“Yes, you are loyal,” Bingmei said, already stepping up to the next man. “And who are you?”
“I am Naruto, the king of Dawanju,” he replied stiffly. “I swore an oath, and I will swear it again. It would dishonor me and my kingdom to betray this cause in any way. I am loyal to my oath.”
She smiled at his sincerity, which came off him in the fragrance of juniper leaves. “You are, my lord.”
As she came closer to Budai, the smell of his resentment grew stronger, making her nose twitch. She approached him next. “And you, Budai? Are you loyal?”
“No matter what I say, you will not believe me,” he responded, his lip curling.
“You do not trust yourself with honesty?” she answered. “Or are you incapable of speaking it?”
“Insolent,” he hissed, taking a threatening step forward and curling a fist. She didn’t flinch. With her staff in hand, she was ready to defend herself. She met his gaze.
“Are you loyal, Budai? I know that you refused to take the oath at first.”
A few gasps came after her words.
Budai’s nostrils flared. “How . . . how could you know this? You weren’t here.”
“Are you loyal?” she asked him again.
His gaze flitted from face to face. Great drops of sweat formed on his brow.
“Budai,” Zhumu said warningly.
“Of course I am!” Budai said angrily. “You promised to give me back my kingdom! Not even Echion would promise that. I am loyal. Tell them, Bingmei. I’m not lying.”
He had the look of a guilty man, and the guards started to encircle him, prepared to take him into custody. But he was telling the truth. As the guards moved in, Bingmei smelled the hint of relief from someone else. Someone who also bore the scent of dishonesty. He was a thin man, one who had been the chancellor of King Zhumu for a long time and still wore the finery of his office. His name was Kexin.
Bingmei lifted the staff and pointed it at him. “Take him instead. Budai was telling the truth.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Darkness Comes
Commotion broke out after Bingmei’s accusation, but General Tzu took immediate action and ordered Kexin’s arrest and interrogation.
“I am innocent!” Kexin shouted, his emotions and terror boiling over. The reek of his dishonesty made Bingmei crinkle her nose. “Your Highness, Your Highness! Please!” He reached out for King Zhumu as the guards began to drag him to the doors.
Bingmei watched for Zhumu’s reaction. His expression didn’t give anything away, but his scent was a dissonant soup of surprise, betrayal, and uncertainty. He didn’t intervene, however, and when Kexin saw his master’s cool expression, his shoulders sagged, and he went as pale as death.
General Tzu strode past Bingmei. “Follow me,” he ordered curtly.
She did, keeping pace with him until they reached the back doors of the audience room. The guards pulled the doors open for them, and they entered a different corridor, this one empty. She had no idea where he was taking her.
“General, I must warn you—”
“Not yet,” he said, cutting her off.
Just behind them, she smelled a familiar scent. Liekou joined them, holding the bow he’d taken from one of the members of Echion’s ensign who had hunted them following their escape from Fusang. He was agitated, but he didn’t look surprised to see her.
“Liekou is my bodyguard,” the general said. “He had an arrow trained on you while you spoke in the audience hall.”
Bingmei hadn’t smelled his presence. He must have been keeping a discreet distance.
“Liekou and I know each other well,” Bingmei said, nodding to him.
“I doubt ten masters trained in a quonsuun could defeat Echion in hand-to-hand combat,” General Tzu declared. “We must even the odds where we may. Liekou’s orders are to keep watch for danger and take action if he sees fit. If he thought you were a threat, he would have shot you in the back.”
“You’ll need him,” Bingmei answered. “Echion is coming for me.”
The general stiffened but didn’t slow his pace. “Wait until we have some privacy, please.”
They rounded the corner and approached a set of doors. There were no servants or passersby in this corridor, just soldiers guarding the room. The doors were opened, and the three of them entered. When the
