Page 6 of Immortal

The creatures glided closer. Five, when one would have sufficed to end us. Light flickered in their eyes, the stones in their foreheads—was it the excitement of the hunt? The prey within their grasp?

Something sparked inside me. It wasn’t over yet.

I dove down, snatching up a handful of soil, then flung it into the faces of the monsters. A screeching erupted, their wings flapping wildly.

“Run!” I yelled to Chengyin and Aunt Shou.

We raced back toward the forest, hoping to lose them there. These creatures could outpace us at any moment. In the distance, moonlight glinted over the roof tiles of the shrines. A rash idea flashed through my mind.

It is the slights to their pride that snare their attention.

I turned sharply, running toward the shrines as fast as I could. The monsters were gaining on me, one swiping at my legs with its claws. As I stumbled, I collided with the incense burner by the God of War’s shrine. It teetered, then crashed onto its side—incense scattering like twigs, ash spilling like powder.

My insides twisted. This was the best and worst one to ruin. Dangerous, to summon the God of War—but choices were sparse when faced with imminent death. Yet the god didn’t know I possessed the lotus they sought, and he wouldn’t kill me without cause. As the Lady of Tianxia, I could claim the immortals’ protection. Wasn’t this why we served them?

I lunged toward the offerings laid out by a devout follower. As one of the monsters leapt at me, I swung aside at the last moment—the creature losing balance and crashing into the plates of food. Cakes crumbled, pears rolling away as the cups tipped over, spilling wine upon the earth.

Claws curled around my wrist, nails digging into my flesh. Blood oozed, leaking into the soil, forming a paste with the ash. As the creature’s lips parted, a tongue slid out, the shade of a ripe bruise. A scream erupted from my throat, shrill with fear. Chengyin fought his way toward me, hacking at the monsters, but he was too far away. I was trembling as I raised my dagger, slashing wildly at the one that held me, but it struck my arm aside with ease.

“Halt, or the old woman dies.” A sibilant hiss. I turned to find one of the monsters holding Aunt Shou, a claw pressed to the vein in her neck.

I froze at once. “What do you want from us?”

A taunting laugh from the one who’d seized me. “Relinquish your weapons. Come with us; don’t struggle, and you’ll be safe. Fight back, and we’ll dine on mortal flesh tonight.”

The urge to retch crested. A hateful thing, this helplessness—to be at the mercy of these creatures. Could I trust them? I didn’t want to; my instincts screaming, but was there a choice?

As I began to nod, Chengyin shouted, “No, Liyen! Don’t believe them.”

The monster beside him snarled, striking the side of his head. As he cried out, rage flooded me. With a burst of newfound strength, I swung my dagger at the creature restraining me, driving the blade into its neck. The skin gave way to a quivering softness, rust-hued blood oozing forth.

Monsters bleed as mortals do.

The thought gave me heart, even as the sight sickened me. As its hold on my wrist slackened, I tore free—but another grabbed me around the waist, lifting me until my head swam.

“You’ll pay for that,” it rasped.

I kicked wildly, trying to yank free. Grandfather hadn’t saved me to be killed by these vicious beings. But they stilled abruptly, their heads darting up.

Fire carved the skies, seething and hissing. A blazing bolt hurtled down, plunging into the monster. Its shriek was like the shattering of glass, a hole gaping where its chest had once been—ragged flesh, quivering and wet. I wrenched away, my body slamming against the ground, the breath knocked from my chest. The creature collapsed on the ground beside me, its blood muddying the soil.

The heavens blazed, molten flame now raining upon us. I crouched down, shielding my head with my arms—but nothing struck me. All around, the wind billowed stronger, tearing my hair from its coils. Loud cracks ruptured the air as shafts of crimson light speared the ground, caging the monsters. Above, a cloud swept from the skies, bearing a single figure upon it clad in black armor, a sword of white jade and gold slung over his shoulder.

The God of War.

3

The immortal’s face was like winter, chiseled from ice and snow. At the sight of him, my body tensed, relief and dread so tightly entwined I couldn’t pick them apart. I hated him, the memory he evoked of my grandfather kneeling before him—even though he’d just saved my life.

The god was watching me, his eyes alight as they traveled my length, pausing at my sash where the imperial seal hung. Ash and blood stained my robe, my hair spilling across my shoulders. I should be afraid of him—terrified, even—yet anger sparked at his intrusive stare.

“Why are you looking at me?” I demanded, like there was nothing to hide, even as I feared he could somehow sense the Divine Pearl Lotus. Fortunately, he’d given no sign of it, his expression unchanged—almost indifferent.

His mouth curled. “Curiosity, nothing more. Who are you?”

Was this a test? After all, the god had seen the seal. I dared not lie; the truth would emerge soon enough. “Zhao Liyen, the Lady of Tianxia—the last descendant of Zhao Likang.” I claimed the title that was now mine.

“Lady of Tianxia?” he repeated slowly. “I thought the heir was dead. I didn’t realize there was another.”