“I believe them to be quite capable warriors, yes,” Xiong said mildly. Yet his sharp eyes reflected some coldness that told me there was more to this conversation beneath the surface.
The Elder drew himself to his full height. I could practically feel the energy crackling between them in the air. “You know what I mean. I’m not talking about their safety. I’m talking about everyone else’s.”
Nods and worried murmuring followed his statement.
“He’s right,” someone called from the crowd.
Ashley’s neck turned red, and Jordan hung his head. Sympathy twinged in my chest. I didn’t know what everyone was talking about, but I knew exactly what it was like to be in the siblings’ shoes. Alex and I had endured years of being outcasts in the Jade Society.
“We will proceed with the ceremony,” Xiong boomed. “There will be no more interruptions.”
This time, no one dared talk back.
When he was finished with Ashley and Jordan, Xiong fixed me with a cold stare. My heart pounded madly.
“Xiong,” he said.
It was strange answering to a family name that wasn’t my own, but I steadied my voice as much as possible. “Zài.”
Murmurs of confusion rose from the onlookers. This wasn’t going to work. Of course it wouldn’t. I wasn’t a member of this society, much less of Xiong’s family. What was I thinking, trying to take Jinyu’s place?
But after several moments, a cooling, tickling sensation rose from my toes all the way up to the roots of my hair. More gasps. I looked down. Flames. Not blue ones, but purple flames enveloped me.
Even though we were indoors, a gentle breeze wrapped around my body. I heard a whisper, the words too faint for me to catch.
“Did you say something?” I asked Jordan, who was closest to me.
But he was too busy gawking at me with his jaw hung wide open. “You’re … purple!”
“Thanks.” I sighed. “I hadn’t noticed.”
I wasn’t sure how this worked, now that I’d entered the Ninety-Sixth Duels in Jinyu’s place. I mean, were we sure this was even legal if no adoption papers had been signed?
I shook the doubt from my head. All that mattered now was that I was about to duel for the right to embark on this quest. I wouldn’t go down without a fight. If Xiong’s word was true, then I didn’t have a choice.
As Xiong lined us up on the mats across from our first opponents, my palms grew slick with sweat. The loud, low beating of large drums sounded.
“Drummers, silence!” Xiong yelled. The drummers lowered their sticks to their sides, and heavy quiet filled the room.
I faced my first opponent, a girl a little taller and older than I was, maybe thirteen or fourteen. She wore her sleek black hair in a chin-length bob and glared at me like she was picturing me skewered at the end of her sword. Her glare was so intense that her eyebrows looked like they’d been stolen off a cartoon character’s face. I couldn’t remember her first name, but I was pretty sure Angry Eyebrows’s family name was Chu.
Jordan stood on the mat beside me, facing a considerably bigger opponent—a teenage boy resembling a bodybuilder. Ashley stared down a guy twice her size. Yet both of their opponents looked more terrified of them somehow.
My curiosity burned. What exactly had the siblings done to make everyone so wary of them?
The flames around me grew hotter. The air sizzled and crackled with an invisible power. My body buzzed with warmth and strength I hadn’t felt in months—not since the Lunar New Year, when I’d channeled the power of the gods themselves to wield the mighty spear Fenghuang.
I had a feeling the gods were gazing down upon us. Watching to see which of the New Order warriors would prove themselves most worthy.
“Bow to your opponent,” Xiong ordered. We obeyed. Angry Eyebrows narrowed her eyes at me as she straightened. I bared my teeth, which probably didn’t look as impressive as I wanted. “Now, fight!”
Before I could blink, a sharp pain split my arm, and I crashed to the ground.
CHAPTER
8
I could count on one hand the number of times someone had brought me down in combat so quickly. And all of them had involved Ye Ye or Ba training me.
So when the New Order warrior brought me down to the mat before I could even strike, I was so stunned, so paralyzed with disbelief and pain, I couldn’t move. For a moment, I thought I’d already lost.
But then I pictured Ye Ye and Ba. How they’d shout for me to get up and try again. To never, ever give up. I imagined them both beside me, urging me to stay strong.
Warmth flowed from the handle of the sword into my fingertips.
Alex, too. If my brother were here, he’d be shouting at me. Snap out of it, he’d say. This isn’t over. Angry Eyebrows got you. So what? You’ll just have to get her back.
Alex would never forgive me if I let anyone defeat me—anyone but him, that is. Ren wouldn’t forgive me if I went down like this, either. So I couldn’t give up the fight. The sword handle grew even warmer, as though encouraging me. Giving me strength.
The air above me swished as Angry Eyebrows’s blade arced down toward me, but I raised Jinyu’s jiàn to parry the blow. Striking while her opponent was down? This girl was vicious. Maybe she’d stolen the eyebrows and personality right off an evil cartoon character.
I leapt to my feet, senses tingling, sword clutched in my hand and raised before me. The sword fit better in my grip now, as though it had finally gotten used to its new master. Every atom of my body buzzed with energy. This was it. The feeling I lived for. The adrenaline of a fight with a strong opponent.
As if answering the call of my blood, the purple flames around me danced higher. Angry Eyebrows’s blue flames grew, too.
I lunged
