The sickening realization of failure bit inside her as the pull of the Grave Kingdom tugged her toward the afterlife.
Bingmei’s spirit-soul hurtled through the flashing colors of the Woliu toward the Death Wall. The summons of death was relentless this time, and she was powerless to stop it. Every bit of her dreaded the crowded streets, the tangle of desperate masses seeking to be reunited with their loved ones. She grieved at her own failure, at the chance she had taken and lost. Her own imprisonment in the Grave Kingdom would be the price she paid.
The mountains stretched before her, capped with melting snow and crowned by a wall that had been built ages ago to capture and imprison the dead. And like all who had gone before her, she raced toward it.
And then she heard three words, words that pierced and snared her. “Shui. Xue. Po.”
Instantly the wind that had summoned her to the gates of the Death Wall reversed. She knew the voice, and even though the words had been spoken far away, it felt as if he’d whispered them in her ear.
It was Rowen’s voice, summoning her back from the dead.
A spasm of color exploded around her, and she was sucked back into her body. Pain exploded inside her, the agony of severed muscles.
In the anguish, she felt a warm hand press against the wound, and another Immortal Word was uttered. A word that healed and restored. In an instant, her torn muscles knit together, and then the skin on both sides of her torso. Pain melted from her, replaced by vigor and strength.
Darkness blinded her once again, but she felt a warm hand on her stomach, breathed in the bread and honey scent of Rowen’s feelings. There was no sign of the dragon. She touched his hand, surprised to find it so tender and careful. The Phoenix Blade lay at her side. He must have pulled it out of her before invoking the words that brought her back to life.
She lifted herself up, and then his gentle hands pulled her into an embrace.
He did not speak to her, but she could smell his breath near her face. She knew it was him, and she knew how it felt to be blind. Memories pulsed inside her. To be held by him, even for a moment, was worth the agony she’d endured.
“Is it you?” she whispered, reaching for his face.
She used the same words he had said to her. Words full of meaning. Words she hoped he would remember from his vision. The smell of love only deepened—it was her scent too, she realized.
His fingers went through her hair, removing the pins one by one until her wig tumbled to the ground and her white braids slumped down around her neck and shoulders.
The smell of him was so delicious she wanted to stay. There was no rivalry or jealousy in it anymore, only deep affection and respect. She felt the hard stone floor beneath her. The heat from his body. Although her eyes could not see through the dragon’s dark fog, her other senses seemed to explode with life. Then he pushed the flat of the Phoenix Blade at her chest. Their hands touched as she folded her fingers around the sharp edges.
“Let’s kill him this time,” he whispered. “You don’t have to face him alone.”
“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” she said, coming to her feet, he with her.
“I saw it too, Bingmei. This is our palace. It’s time to claim it.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Falls the Shadow
She grasped the Phoenix Blade in a reverse grip so that the blade pointed up behind her arm. With her other hand, she intertwined her fingers with Rowen’s, enjoying the warmth of him. The smell of his love. Together they walked out of the dark-shrouded Hall of Memory and into the vivid sunlight.
A few stray hairs that had come loose from her braids tickled her face as a breeze caressed her. The pain from the wound was gone, her muscles and organs fused together again. As she walked across the threshold before the wide steps leading down to the courtyard, she could hear the sounds of fighting. Once she reached the edge, she saw Echion standing in the middle of the steps, grasping his spear like a pole and leaning on it as he watched his ensign pressing down against Mieshi, Zhuyi, and Marenqo. Several warriors had been felled, but there were at least twenty more, and beyond them stood a ring of Qiangdao soldiers watching the fight with interest.
Bingmei looked down at her friends, her companions, and felt a swell of protectiveness. The urge to keep them safe, to shelter them from harm. Rowen squeezed her hand, and from his bittersweet fragrance, she sensed he felt the same way.
“Do you see it?” she asked him curiously.
“I can see it through the birds,” he whispered back, his voice full of awe.
And she realized in that moment that every rooftop surrounding the enormous courtyard was thronged with birds of a hundred different varieties, from little finches to majestic cormorants. Their individual presence was so small, so understated, that she hadn’t realized she’d been sensing them all along.
Another smell struck her, the scent of Xisi in a murderous rage. She released her hold of Rowen’s hand and turned, watching as the Dragon Queen came up behind her with the sharp talons attached to her fingers. Xisi’s hatred and killing intent thrummed from her in wave after wave of desperate fury.
Xisi closed on her, raising a hand to stab at Bingmei with her metal claws, but Bingmei dodged the swipe.
“Give him back! Give him back!” Xisi shrieked. “You’re bound by the Xieyi! Give him back!”
Another slash came at her face, and Bingmei ducked and struck back, aiming a
