The current kept pushing her against the boulders, in the direction of shore. Her muscles strained and grew cold, but she continued to wait, sensing the dragon’s erratic searching growing more desperate.
He is not patient, she heard the phoenix whisper in her mind. She felt approval, contentment. Despite the odds, she’d outwitted the dragon again. Her hair swirled in the water around her, but she was too deep to be seen above the tumult of the waves.
Finally, when she felt she could wait no more, the dragon gave up the chase and left. It circled back once, twice, and then flew away.
Bingmei canceled the word of power by waving her hand over the sigil, and the bubbles stopped. She swam to the surface and found the cormorant waiting atop the nearest rock. It had ashy feathers, a mottled gray breast, and a striking yellow beak. It crooned to her, a throaty chuckle as it spread its wings and bobbed its head. It seemed to be gesturing to her. When she looked around, she saw a little fishing boat coming toward her.
Bingmei climbed up on the boulder, the cormorant moving to give her room, and waited until the fisherman arrived. Seeing the older man made her think of Quion. Her heart panged.
What had become of him? Was he safe?
The fisherman rowed closer. He mopped sweat from his wizened face. “You all right?” he asked her. She recognized the dialect. He was from Sajinau or Wangfujing.
“I think so,” she said, wrapping her arms around her knees. She was so exhausted the thought of flying made her despair. “Can you take me to Sihui, please?”
He sniffed and rubbed his nose on his arm. “You have the winter sickness,” he said. But she didn’t smell disdain. In fact, he smelled hopeful. “Are you . . . are you Bingmei?”
“I am,” she answered.
“I can row you to Sihui,” he said, gesturing for her to hop aboard. “You’re the one everyone is talking about. I will take you. No shells. It would be my honor to have a warrior like you in my boat.”
“Thank you,” she said, rising from the rock and carefully edging down it. The cormorant squawked at her, as if saying goodbye.
“Thank you,” she said to the bird and watched it bob its head as the fisherman rowed back to the city.
She was wet, cold, and desperate for warmth. But she was alive.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Dragon Form
Bingmei couldn’t remember the last time she had worn new clothes or eaten a meal that hadn’t been dropped off by a bird or caught from a frozen stream. The cuisine of Sihui was intolerably spicy, but the chefs who’d prepared food for her tonight had been raised in Sajinau. The expert blend of flavors appeased the deepest core of her hunger.
After arriving back with the fisherman, she’d flown to the palace and rejoined General Tzu, who had ordered her to rest and provided the refreshment and a change of attire. The meiwood staff had been returned to her as well.
The silk shirt she had been given felt pleasant, and the new clothes smelled fresh and clean. She examined herself in the mirror and wondered where the little girl had gone. As a young woman, she’d always been so anxious to conceal her white braids, to hide everything that marked her as unusual. Her feelings on the matter had changed, and she saw the strength in her eyes, the firm line of her mouth. It was her determination that had kept her alive during such difficult times.
A knock sounded on the door, and when she opened it, she saw General Tzu himself standing there. His stern demeanor was belied by a feeling of relief, which smelled like pine sap.
“Hello, General,” she said, inclining her head.
“Come walk with me to inspect the defenses,” he said. She caught the scent of Liekou and saw a glimpse of him farther down the corridor.
“Are you afraid we will be attacked?” she asked, even though he didn’t smell worried.
“What I know of our enemy tells me he would prefer to make a show of destroying us. Even knowing you are with us, I suspect he will maintain his plan. He will want us to come to Fusang—and there he will attempt to destroy us. No, I do not believe he will attack us here.” His lips twitched into something resembling a smile. “But visits from the commanding officer help ensure good discipline. People do not do what you expect them to do. They do what you inspect.”
Bingmei smiled at the sentiment. “Like old times, then.”
“Indeed. While the status of the defenses has no bearing on our survival at present, there are many rumors about you in the city right now. It will boost morale if you are seen walking among them. You chased off a dragon, after all.”
Bingmei snorted. “He chased me, as I recall.”
The general offered a smile, which showed he agreed. “People will believe what they want to believe. Come.”
She grabbed the rune staff and followed him into the corridor. Liekou kept a circumspect distance behind them, making their conversation private. As they left the palace courtyard, soldiers fell in around them to keep the crowds away. She glimpsed a few eager faces in the crowd. The scents of gratitude and respect mingled in the air. She didn’t know what stories they had heard that conjured such sweet feelings, but it was better than disdain and contempt. It was a heady smell.
The sunlight was failing, bringing dusk to the city. People had started lighting paper lanterns. While they walked, General Tzu described his fight against
