Liekou was struck twice in the forehead and slumped down to the ground, dazed. Bingmei felt dread for him rise in her throat, but Liekou was only pretending. As soon as Echion’s attention diverted from him, he lunged and grabbed another arrow. He rolled onto his back, fit it to the string of the bow, and rose to a low bow crouch. Echion was nearly on top of him when he launched the second arrow.
Bingmei, hovering in the air behind Echion, watched the arrow strike the Dragon Emperor. She saw the bladed arrowhead emerge from his back, but it did not come through. The arrow had impaled him.
Echion grunted, staggered back.
Liekou panted, eyes wild.
Bingmei, taking advantage of the moment, swung the staff down on Echion’s head with cracking force. It would have killed any other man.
When the staff struck him, it was like hitting a boulder, and the sound it made reverberated through the hall of the Eagle Palace.
Echion reached up and grabbed the staff, using it to spin Bingmei around his head. It happened so fast she didn’t let go until he’d thrown her halfway across the room. Her wings unfurled at the last moment, stopping her from smashing into Zhumu’s empty throne.
Liekou rushed him, kicking over and over, trying to overpower Echion, but each blow was blocked until a counter palm strike hit Liekou in the ribs and sent him hurtling away. Then Echion grabbed the fletching of the arrow and pulled it out of his body. Although he had a pained look on his face, there was no blood or gore, just a silvery syrup that clung to the shaft. He tossed the arrow away.
Echion gave her a feral grin as she hovered in the air.
“You cannot kill me, Bingmei. No man, no army is sufficient. It was a clever trap, to be sure. But this body, which you resurrected for me, cannot be burned by fire, drowned in the sea, or frozen.”
As he spoke, terror washed through her. She smelled the truth of his words.
“But you can die,” Bingmei said. “I’ve seen your corpse.”
“Only when I choose it, little bird. You cannot take my life from me. But I can take yours.”
She smelled a half-truth there, and she clung to it.
“There is a way, and I will find it,” Bingmei shot back. In her mind, she saw a fluttering blue butterfly, clinging to a tree limb.
His look smoldered with anger. He bared his teeth.
“And I will end this rebellion, little bird.” She saw him begin to draw a sigil with his finger.
Bingmei’s eyes flared with panic, and she flew up and out the window. Echion charged after her, abandoning the half-formed glyph. She could sense him coming, chasing her. She flew down the river toward the sea. When she looked back, she saw he’d already transformed back into the dragon. His yellow eyes burned at her, and he flapped his wings, gaining on her.
She soared low, passing over the sails of fishing boats and war ships. She reached out in her mind for birds, any birds, and willed them to come to her aid, to cloud her from Echion’s sight. The smell of the sea breeze filled her nose, but it did not mask the stench of Echion. The wings of the dragon buffeted the masts and sails of the boats as he chased after her.
Flocks of seagulls rose from the shores beyond the docks, where they’d been picking at food, a plume of white and gray and squawking noises came as they converged around her.
Echion hissed as the birds soared around him, flapping and pecking at his scales. They were no match for his size and strength, but they blinded him. Bingmei continued to soar away from Sihui, following the bay to the south. But the dragon didn’t lose interest in the chase. Echion pressed against her, keeping pace with her, determined to devour her and end the rivalry. She was exhausted. But they were equally determined. She soared around boulders as waves crashed against them, spraying white foam. She passed a flock of puffins, but they were too small to help her.
Ahead, she saw a lonely fishing boat away by itself. The fisherman stared at them coming, and he jumped into the water in pure fear. It gave her an idea.
Could the water protect her?
Some birds dived at the water, like pelicans. She’d seen them do it. And other birds, like cormorants, actually went under the water to catch fish. In fact, she sensed a cormorant nearby, sitting idly on a boulder, watching them as they flew past. Excitement filled her chest. In this race, she would lose. But if she could shift Echion’s attention from her for long enough to dive underwater, he wouldn’t know where she’d gone.
Bingmei needed a distraction. The birds had blinded him momentarily, but she needed something that would last longer.
Light.
Bingmei drew the sigil for light, summoning the bright light of the sun at noonday. She closed her eyes, and the light exploded around her. It was so bright it temporarily blinded her as well, even with her eyes closed. Bingmei drew on the instincts of a cormorant and plunged into the frigid waters. The roar of water filled her ears. The ocean was shockingly cold. She stayed underwater, letting herself sink lower and lower, looking up at the great white ball beyond the tops of the waves. Holding her breath for so long made her chest ache, but she focused on remaining still.
She sensed the dragon circling overhead, searching for her. Salty water stung her nose and eyes. The taste in her mouth was awful. She would drown if she stayed there longer. Bingmei brushed against a group of boulders along the shoreline. She clung to one to keep from drifting, her chest aching for want of air.
Air. What was the word for “air”?
Huxi. She saw the symbol in her mind, drawn there by the phoenix.
Bingmei used her finger
