The inner mechanism of the lock shifted and clicked, and the massive doors began to open toward her, letting out a gust of brackish air, the reek of the man she’d come to destroy.
She smelled his flare of anger at the intrusion, the burning sulfurous rage, and in the shadows of the lair, she saw his pale hair rustle as he took a step forward and threw his spear at her.
Bingmei’s wings unfurled again, and she soared up as the spear sped beneath her, flying like a dart out into the middle of the courtyard, where it clattered to the ground.
“You!” Echion snarled as she floated in the air. He was incredulous, but he saw her with his own eyes.
“I’ve come to destroy you,” she said firmly.
“You cannot destroy me,” he said, the lie making the air even more pungent. “I am as the gods!”
“No longer,” Bingmei said. As she hovered in the air, she saw the still corpse of the maidservant, Baihe, sprawled on the ground, the eyes open and lifeless. An act of rage. Bingmei’s heart swelled with disgust and determination to end the reign of such a monster.
“And what is a little bird compared with a dragon!” Echion snarled. His body began to lift off the ground, and she had the briefest impression of massive black wings, as insubstantial as smoke, before he rushed at her, fingers bent into claws, face full of murderous intent.
Bingmei flew straight at him. She drew the glyph for light to blind him and tucked to the side as the light exploded inside the hall. Even with her eyes closed, it scalded her vision.
Echion yelled in anguish, but he knew how to counter her attack. She heard the rippling of scales, smelled the reptile stench of his dragon form. With her eyes closed, she arched away from the smell and soared up to retrieve the Phoenix Blade from the jaws of the stone dragon.
The dragon breathed out the fog of darkness just as she reached the blade. As her hand squeezed around the hilt, she felt a jolt of magic rip up her arm. Instantly, she felt a wrestle of wills in her mind—one force demanded she release it, another sang with delight at the reunion.
Bingmei yanked on the blade and felt the metal scrape against stone as she freed it. Power filled her from the crown of her head to her toes. The blade responded to her once again, seething and powerful—a weapon of her birthright, which had been stolen and warped by the Dragon of Night. She hadn’t wanted to take it earlier, knowing that it would give Echion an awareness of her location. But in such close quarters, it was unlikely to matter.
The smell of rage flew at her in the darkness as the plume of shadow smothered the chamber, quenching the light she had summoned. It was as dark as Sihui had been. The dragon rushed at her, and she imagined its gaping maw as its sharp teeth snapped inches from her. Bingmei flew down, bringing the sword around and chopping at the beast’s neck as it tried to snatch her from the air. The blade tore through the scales, and she saw a bloody ichor spray from the wound.
One of its wings buffeted her, sending her spinning. She crashed onto the stone floor hard enough to jar her bones. Pain shot through her arms, which had taken the first impact, and she dropped the blade. It slid across the floor, and Bingmei scrabbled to her knees and lunged for it. Although she couldn’t see it in the darkness, she could sense it. Which was how she sensed it shooting away from her, toward the dragon.
Bingmei let out a cry of frustration and willed the blade to come back to her as she reached out her hand. But the dragon was unwilling to release his mental grip on the blade, and it hung taut in the air between them, unable to move either way.
Bingmei released her summons, and the blade shot at the dragon. She launched herself at the beast, her mind hot with anger. They collided in midair, the impact enough to steal her breath. The hot smell of the beast sickened her, but she knew what she needed to do. No punch or kick would harm such a creature, but that wasn’t necessary. She only had to draw the glyph of death on it.
She began to trace it on one of the scales, but the hard surface rippled and dissolved beneath her hand. Echion had transformed again, reducing the size of his bulk to a human form that had less to touch. He kicked her in the stomach. She choked with pain and felt the Phoenix Blade coming for her.
Bingmei tried to twist away in time, but the blade pierced her stomach. She felt it slide into her, experiencing the shock and pain of it. Her muscles seized with agony, and she felt the wings on her back stiffen. And then her spirit-soul sloughed from her body as death claimed her once again.
“You dared . . . believe you could defeat me?” Echion growled, driving the blade in deeper.
When her spirit-soul departed her body, she could see again, no longer impacted by the darkness of the dragon’s breath. She saw the expression on her body’s face, the surprise still registered on her mouth. Her eyes open, unseeing. The blade had run her completely through.
Echion wasn’t speaking to her body. His brutal eyes were fixed on her spirit-soul.
“You will serve me now and forever in the Grave Kingdom,” he told her.
Despair gripped her soul as Echion flung her body to the stone floor, where it lay in a heap of bone, muscle, and leaking blood. A tug of current began to pull at her, drawing her away from the Hall of Memory. As she was sucked out of the palace, she saw a battle underway outside the Hall of Unity. Mieshi and Zhuyi fought against a group of
