Page 66 of Immortal

The words sank in like a curse. How quiet it had grown, the chill sharpening like a scythe carving the air. Translucent forms appeared in the main courtyard, just beyond the entrance—twelve or more, their flesh no more substantial than breath fogged against porcelain. I’d expected monsters with fangs and claws, scales and wings. Yet these wraithlike creatures seemed fragile, likely to dissipate if one blew upon them. I was not stupid enough to imagine them weak, not when the God of War braced at their approach.

With each moment, their bodies solidified more, as though a painter had begun filling in the lines of their work. Were they feeding on the fear they roused? Or was this form how they’d slipped through the gateway? Their robes flowed in shades of gray, a bronze bell the size of a loquat dangling from their waists, eerily silent as though hollow within.

As the Wuxin took shape, they began to look like the immortals—ageless, without blemish—yet their hair was a shining white, draping their shoulders like pale shawls. Some were fair and others dark, yet all their eyes were ringed with copper. They crossed the courtyard, moving with swift purpose, heading deeper into my home. Dozens of Winged Devils trailed behind them, their claws gleaming, a cloying fragrance of spoiled fruit wafting in the air—they were working together.

Zhangwei and I remained still until they’d gone. It was dark now but for the curve of the moon, casting our surroundings into ash. I hugged myself, trying to banish my dread, the heaviness stealing over me. This was a hopeless struggle against so powerful an enemy. We were doomed. But I shook my head, reminding myself that the Wuxin leeched one’s strength and hope. They would not take mine.

“Don’t let your mind wander.” Zhangwei brushed a light finger across my forehead, a shimmering heat sliding into me. “This will help protect you from their influence, but you must also guard your emotions. The Wuxin draw your misery like smoke winding to the skies. The more you yield, the worse you’ll suffer, falling deeper into their clutches.”

“How did they change their appearances?” I asked.

“Their natural forms are those we saw in the beginning, akin to spirits. Once they gain strength, they gain substance.”

I shuddered. “I thought they were sealed away in the Netherworld.”

“They are,” he said grimly. “I don’t know how some escaped. I must inspect the gateway.”

“Who are they looking for?”

When he didn’t reply, I pressed further, “No more lies, remember? Not even those that make me feel better.”

He sighed. “It’s no coincidence that they’re here in your home. That all this began—”

“Once I took the Divine Pearl Lotus,” I finished his sentence, trying to keep calm.

Zhangwei’s head dipped toward mine. “I won’t let them hurt you,” he told me.

Of course—if I died, he died. And I almost hated myself for the way I twisted his words around. But while he was protecting my body, I had to protect my heart.

His hand tightened around mine; only now did I realize he hadn’t let go. “I must get you away. There are too many of them.”

Yet a new terror was stirring, one I couldn’t ignore. “If they don’t find what they’re looking for, will they hurt the others? I must warn—”

“We have to leave.” He was still pale, his breathing uneven since his attempt to unseal the skies. Was he on the brink of exhaustion—afraid he couldn’t protect me now?

“I want to leave, but I can’t,” I admitted; it took all my self-control to remain here, surrounded by these monsters. “I won’t let my people be hurt because of me. If you won’t help, I’ll face them alone.”

“If the Wuxin capture you, if they take the lotus—”

“It’s just about the lotus, isn’t it?” I shot back. “You’re afraid I’ll lose it, that you’ll die.”

His face clouded as he glanced at the skies. Was he thinking of Lieutenant Yang? The dead immortal soldiers? “I’m afraid for you. What other magic do they possess that we know nothing of? I can’t risk them hurting you.”

“But you’ll risk everyone else?”

“Once you’re safe, I’ll return for them—”

“After they’ve killed everyone here? My soldiers aren’t equipped to battle such creatures. I must help them.” I gripped my sword. “We need every weapon we can gather.”

“They are searching for you for a reason. If they find you, they win, and your kingdom will be the first to suffer.”

His voice roughened with intensity, but I couldn’t let myself listen to him—I would flee if I did, my resolve worn thin. What did I know of monsters except those the immortals had let into our world? Neither of them had any place here.

I rounded on him, holding onto my anger—of more use than my fear. “My people are in danger now. If they’re hurt, I don’t care what happens to your precious lotus. Let me go; you have no right to stop me.”

When he didn’t release me, I drew my sword with my other hand. Move, I urged him silently. But his eyes blazed as though challenging me, as though daring me to strike like he didn’t believe I would. My rage flared, eclipsing all else as I swung the sword at him. He didn’t evade, maybe underestimating my resolve—his gaze pinning mine as my blade sliced his arm, carving a shallow cut. Inside, I recoiled, my chest caving—sick at the sight of the blood I’d drawn. But I didn’t pause, wrenching free to stalk away, resisting the urge to turn. I wouldn’t be a coward. I was no longer helpless, an immortal blade in my hand . . . and a heart that was slowly hardening to stone.

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