“There’s a soldier approaching right now,” General Tzu muttered. Bingmei’s back was to the door, so he looked over her shoulder. “Is that him?”
“Yes,” she answered. “You might want to have people back away.”
“We have one chance to catch him unawares,” the general whispered. She smelled his anxiety, his concern at letting their enemy stroll in amongst them unchallenged. Liekou lay in wait behind one of the support pillars—she could smell but not see him—and all the soldiers had been given one order. They were to attack whomever Bingmei started to fight.
Bingmei gripped her staff, preparing to summon the power of its runes. She swallowed when she felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle as Echion entered the crowded chamber.
Squeezing her staff, she turned and looked at those assembled, although she purposefully kept her attention off the dragon.
“Is there a problem, Bingmei?” King Zhumu asked, adding to the deception.
“Something’s wrong,” she said, purposefully threading confusion and doubt into her tone as she came down the steps of the dais. She started walking toward Echion, although she still did not take special notice of him.
The smell of his smugness struck her hard. He was relishing the moment, believing that she was walking straight to her death.
“My lord! Save us!” Kexin screamed. Had he recognized Echion through his disguise somehow?
The smug look on the disguised soldier’s face melted into a frown.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Like a Cormorant
Bingmei swung the staff around, aiming for Echion’s head, but the surprise she’d planned had been ruined by Kexin’s warning. He brought up his arm swiftly, catching the meiwood staff on his forearm. She leaped at him with a flurry of kicks, only to find him already retreating backward, blocking each one deftly. Bingmei dropped to a low crouch and swung the staff at his legs. When it struck, it was like hitting a column of stone.
The disguise he wore melted away as he kicked down at her. Bingmei rolled to the side, avoiding the first blow. The second struck her ribs and sent her careening away. She would have fallen to the ground on her back, but her spirit wings unfurled and she swooped back onto her feet, coming down in a strong bow-and-arrow stance.
She glared at him, rubbing her ribs, and then the whole room of soldiers charged at him from every direction. As the mob converged, Echion whirled, striking one and then another—arms, fists, knees, feet. He spun like a child’s top, zigzagging around in tight circles, and the soldiers peeled away from him. There was no room to join the fight through the press, but Bingmei watched in utter disbelief as Echion defended himself, striking quick and hard and with terrible power. She saw his hand quickly trace a glyph—speed. And then his motions became a blur.
She caught sight of Liekou, who had his bow raised, meiwood arrow pulled back, but there was no target with so many bodies flailing. The smell of battle filled the throne room, of sweat and determination and growing fear.
The battle raged on, but none of the soldiers landed a single blow. Echion was moving too fast, and his instincts and skills had been perfected over millennia. She saw blood spurt from a broken nose, saw men grimace as they were kicked in the chest and literally thrown off their feet. Weapons were equally useless. The spears rushing him were parried, then yanked away and used against them.
Only a warrior moving as fast as he was could hope to defeat him.
Bingmei traced the symbol for speed in the air and felt a tingle run down her arm. She flew at him, striking fast and hard, feeling her own actions accelerated by the magic of the glyph.
Other warriors tried to strike him while they fought, hoping he would be distracted. But each time someone came near, he would send them sprawling with a fist or a foot, without even looking at them.
Bingmei moved herself in a semicircle, hoping Echion might turn his back to Liekou. The meiwood arrows were their best hope—the dragon’s skill and ferocity were unearthly. There was no sweat on his brow, no labored breathing, although she felt herself drenched and flagging. Both of them had just flown from Sihui, but she seemed to be the only one who felt it.
Behind Echion, she saw Liekou fix his aim and loose the arrow. Although he should have had no way of sensing the danger, he responded to it and pivoted. The arrow went straight at Bingmei instead. If not for the speed glyph, it would have impaled her. She struck the meiwood shaft aside with her staff, sending it clattering to the floor among the other discarded weapons.
She had only had time to draw the complex rune on three of the arrows, hoping that a surprise attack would be all that was needed.
Liekou sprang into the fight. He charged toward Echion and engaged in battle, whipping the bow around to strike his face, only, the Dragon Emperor ducked it and kicked out, stomping on Liekou’s foot, striking his knee, and then his hip—three blows so fast that Liekou grimaced in pain and retreated.
Most of the other soldiers had fallen and were groaning with pain, trying to rise to continue the fight. Some had fled.
Bingmei invoked the power of the staff, and the runes blazed to life. Echion’s movements began to slow as the staff’s power drained the speed sigils. Liekou used a series of snapping and flying kicks, engaging Echion with determination and ferocity, while Bingmei attacked him on his other side.
Echion turned in a half circle, parrying them both, responding with swift kicks to chests and temples. She blocked some, but a few made it through, even though he had slowed. Each blow brought pain, and with that pain came fear. She was lifted again on her wings, prepared to fly should she need to escape
