“Your enemy will be defeated today. Our rival is dead. We win . . . again.”
Echion was already gazing at the maidens Xisi had brought, his eyes inflamed with lust. “It doesn’t happen often, your attempts to please me. Very well. You can kill the woman. It doesn’t matter to me. I want . . . that one.”
He pointed to one of the handmaids, the woman Xisi had accused of liking Echion.
“She’s yours,” Xisi said impassively.
The girl cowered with fear. She was the one holding the bottle of ice wine.
“Come, maidens,” Xisi said, turning to go.
“Hold,” commanded Echion. He padded over to the trembling girl and took the stone bottle from her.
“Let us drink to our victory, Xisi. You take the first sip.”
A sly smile spread on his lips.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Po
Bingmei felt the little bird’s trembling heart. It wanted to flee the chamber, but the doors were closed. In another moment, it would start panicking and try to escape. Bingmei soothed the bird, trying to calm it. She wondered at Xisi’s ploy, which seemed too obvious. Why hadn’t she foreseen Echion’s distrust?
“Share such a delicacy? I’d assumed you’d be selfish,” she replied.
“I’m feeling magnanimous today,” Echion said. His eyes narrowed. “Drink it.”
“Very well. Baihe,” she said to the girl who had been chosen, “pour us both some wine.”
“Y-yes, mistress,” said the girl, who still seemed to be reeling. Her eyes shifted to Echion, and Bingmei wondered at the look in her eyes. Did she harbor secret hopes to take Xisi’s place? She walked to a nearby table to retrieve a pair of goblets made of gold and jewels.
The bird launched itself into the air, despite Bingmei’s pleading, and was soon zooming around the rooftop.
Xisi looked up at the bird flapping wildly above.
Echion broke the seal on the stone bottle with his bare hands. He breathed in its scent, again his look full of suspicion.
Baihe brought the cups to Echion, and he filled them with wine. The bird smashed into one of the wooden screens in its panic to escape, jarring Bingmei’s connection to it.
Please be still! You will get out, but don’t fly again until the doors are opened. You’ll only get hurt.
The bird nestled at the edge of the window, trembling with pain and confusion. Sunlight streamed in through the sculpted slats of the window, but the gaps weren’t large enough for it to escape. Bingmei’s heart went out to the little bird. It wasn’t just a creature to be used and destroyed. She wanted to help it escape.
Echion set the stone bottle down on the edge of the sarcophagus, which was now empty. The girl inside had slunk away during the conversation. Xisi took one of the cups from her former handmaiden.
When Echion took the other cup, his hand brushed the girl’s. She peeked at him, her cheeks beginning to flush.
“Thank you for your gift of the girl,” he said, nodding, holding forth his cup as if to salute her. “You normally do not accommodate me so easily.”
Xisi held her cup low and shrugged.
“You are stalling. Drink it.”
If she felt any dread, the Dragon Queen didn’t show it. This was a strange thing for Bingmei to wonder about, and she realized how other people questioned things in their lives. But the queen raised it to her lips and began to tilt it back.
“Wait,” Echion said, stopping her. She paused, looking at him.
“Change cups with me,” he said. “You normally wait a few years before trying to kill me.”
Her look was startled, concerned. “Why? You told me to drink it.”
“I’ve changed my mind. Drink this one instead.” He thrust his goblet at her.
Xisi took a small step back. Her face betrayed doubt, but Bingmei wondered if that was part of the deception she couldn’t smell. Had Xisi taken the poisoned cup on purpose? Bingmei watched her duplicity with admiration.
“Come, Echion, if you don’t want—”
He cut her off, striding forward and grabbing the goblet from her hand. He set it down, and when she flinched, he grabbed her by the back of the neck.
“Drink it,” he commanded, offering his own goblet to her.
“Let go of me!” she snarled.
“Drink it.”
“Why would I seek to harm you now?” Xisi said. She took the cup, but Echion kept hold of it. He helped lift it to her mouth.
“Why indeed?” Echion said and chuckled. He watched as she raised the cup to her lips and willingly took a deep swallow. Then she smiled patiently at him. “That is a good wine,” she said, licking her painted lips. “We have forestalled the Reckoning again, Husband. Because of your wisdom and cunning. And mine.” She nodded and took another sip.
Echion looked surprised. The bird at the window didn’t move. It felt Bingmei’s soothing concern and just maintained its perch. She watched the scene with deep interest.
Echion took the cup he’d put down, the one he’d snatched from Xisi, and raised it in salute.
Xisi’s smile was almost tender as he drank from it.
And began to choke.
Bingmei watched as Echion dropped to his knees, as if a dozen knives had been hurled into his stomach at once. His face distorted into a grotesque mask of anguish. He dropped the goblet with a resounding clang, and fell face-first on the tiles. He heaved once, twice, and then vomited out the wine. It looked like blood.
“I will enjoy ruling the next eon without you,” she said.
Xisi then turned away from him and walked away, looking smug and defiant and more than a little self-satisfied. Her trickery had worked. She knew her victim’s character and had exploited that knowledge against him.
The other maidens followed Xisi out, some glancing back to stare in horror at the emperor mewling with pain on the floor. Baihe knelt by his side, staring at him in concern.
When they reached the doors, Xisi drew a glyph in the air with her finger, and the doors pushed open on their own.
Now, Bingmei whispered to the bird, and it swooped out of the Hall of Memory. Echion lifted his head,
