“We should go. I don’t know how long it’ll take, but I would prefer not to arrive at night,” Ai Ling said finally.
Chen Yong and Li Rong nodded in solemn agreement.
They gathered their belongings and wound their way past the pagoda where they had first met the Goddess of Records. No one was seated at the long table. They walked past the magnificent trees that had greeted them when they entered the gardens. The sun shone as brightly as before, the sky bluer than ever. Ai Ling glanced over her shoulder, feeling a heaviness as she walked closer to the red door. Why had her previous incarnation—she almost laughed at the thought—given herself to such a task? Should she take the word of the Goddess? She was in danger, and so were her friends.
Li Rong walked beside her, and Chen Yong strode a little ahead, as he always seemed to. “Thank you again for coming with me,” she said.
His expression was serious. Then the boyish mischief returned and he grinned widely. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything. Imagine the stories I can tell, the women I can impress after this fantastic adventure.”
Ai Ling smiled. Li Rong could make even the task of sending someone to his grave feel lighthearted.
With a soft touch, Chen Yong pushed the massive red doors open. The sea dragon was waiting, stretched out to its full length. Its beautiful green, blue, and turquoise scales were dazzling in the sun. Ai Ling walked with lighter steps, as if she too had cloud wisps clinging to her feet. She approached the creature first, and it bowed its head, inviting her to climb onto its back. Li Rong and Chen Yong climbed on behind her.
The dragon ran on its short muscular legs, then bounded into the air, riding the winds. The blue of the heavens spanned forever.
“I hope it isn’t too far away,” Ai Ling said, not knowing if Li Rong, sitting with his hands on her waist, could hear her with the wind singing in their ears.
She looked down and saw nothing but a thick bank of storm clouds. She glanced behind, in search of the Mountain of Heavenly Peace, but encountered only sky. She would never walk in the Immortals’ gardens again. The thought brought regret tinged with relief.
She could not say how long they traveled, but the next thing she knew, she woke with her cheek pressed to the spine of the dragon and a crick in her neck. She had fallen asleep, and the weight of Li Rong’s head on her back told her he had done the same. Ai Ling slowly straightened and glanced behind her. Li Rong opened his eyes, yawning. Chen Yong’s hands rested on his brother’s shoulders as he scanned the skyline, alert.
The dragon began descending through the bank of ominous clouds. The air turned cold and dank, and she shivered. After a long moment, they emerged below the clouds, and she saw a jagged mountain. It appeared to drift in midair, composed only of rocks the color of tar. She had never seen a black mountain peak before—devoid of any living thing.
The Lady in White lived on this barren pile of sawtoothed rock? Where was her palace? Not even a small hut graced the summit. Her stomach knotted with anxiety, and she leaned back into Li Rong, seeking comfort. His grip around her waist tightened just a fraction, as if he sensed her fear—or felt his own. The warmth of his hands calmed her, and she smiled, grateful for his company.
Picking up speed, the dragon flew to the flat peak, the only even terrain on the entire mountain, and landed with a gentle glide. Ai Ling climbed off its back and stroked its sleek side in gratitude.
Chen Yong and Li Rong dismounted. The dragon bowed its head low before leaping into the air and disappearing within the dark clouds. They were silent for a moment, their faces turned to the sky. Ai Ling wrapped her arms around herself. She wished the dragon had stayed.
“Where’s this Lady we seek?” Li Rong said aloud what they all wondered. The air was damp with drizzle, and it was difficult to gauge the time of day.
“Look there,” Chen Yong said, pointing, his body tense.
Ai Ling followed his gaze and saw that the light mist that swirled about seemed to leave a wide circular space empty before them. She squinted; something wavered, a sheen of white. She blinked, and the illusion was lost.
“I can’t see anything,” Li Rong said.
“There’s something here, hidden from view,” Chen Yong said.
Ai Ling walked toward the empty space, through the mist spiraling at its edges. A wall shimmered again, rounded and smooth like that of a tower, reflecting her image. She paused, stunned. Her figure warped and vanished. She reached out and walked to where she had seen her image. Her fingers touched cold, smooth stone.
“Ai Ling!” Chen Yong’s voice was tight with warning.
She jerked her hand back. Clear crystal crackled where she had touched. The cracks spread like fissured ice, thrusting upward and around, until a giant tower glimmered before them. The tower’s thick quartz wall was both clear and milky, revealing nothing within.
She turned back to her friends, lightheaded from fright. Li Rong let out a long whistle.
“I see no way to enter,” Chen Yong said.
He withdrew his sword and began to walk the circumference. Ai Ling pressed a hand to her breast as he disappeared around the curve of the shimmering tower. She drew a long breath when he reappeared from the other side, after too many heartbeats.
“I counted nearly three hundred strides. I saw no windows or doors, no way of entering the tower.”
“I don’t understand,” Ai Ling said.
She laid tentative fingers on the sleek wall again. And the next moment, a surge of cold rushed from her fingertips through her entire body; everything flickered, and she was within the tower.
The stench assaulted her. A monster loomed over Ai Ling, the smell of death pluming from its gaping mouth. She fought to remain standing, not to crouch and heave the contents of her stomach. The thing turned its sunken eye on her, black and circular, like a wound in its head. Fetid arms hung to the ground and ended in sharp black claws.
She realized then that it was composed of corpses—arms and legs jutted from the top of its head instead of hair. Its naked mass was formed of human torsos, more limbs, and worse, heads and sagging faces. Some of the eyes were so decomposed only empty sockets peered from a putrefied skull. Ai Ling barely reached its knee, which bulged with human spines and sharp shoulder blades.
The monster lurched and turned to face her fully. She tried to step back, but her limbs failed; tried to scream, but found no voice.
Chen Yong materialized facing her, right below the thing, his sword gripped in one hand.
“Behind you!” Her voice sounded muted, her need to warn him dislodging the words from her clenched throat.
He bounded to her side in an instant, his face distorted by the stench that assailed him. “Mother of the heavens,” Chen Yong breathed when he saw the monster.
Li Rong appeared on the opposite side of the tower. He drew his sword and looked at Chen Yong and Ai Ling with wide-eyed terror. The monster took no notice, his eye boring down at her and Chen Yong. It dragged its black claws on the crystalline floor, making a horrific screeching noise. Ai Ling saw that the stone floor was etched with deep grooves.
“Stand back!” Chen Yong yelled. He vaulted forward, slashing his sword into the monster, cutting through a face and torso with flaccid breasts. The beast roared, a deep boom, and its cadaverous arm swept down like falling timber, but Chen Yong had already twisted away. They now formed a triangle around the beast.
Ai Ling stepped back, her knees shaking. A familiar warmth gathered against her breast, and she looked down to see the glowing jade pendant. It flickered, grew hot, and a white blaze enveloped the monster. Please let it kill the thing.
The monster continued its attack, oblivious to the bright light surrounding its body. The heat around her throat cooled. She looked down. The pendant had dimmed; the intense glow faded from around the monster. Ai Ling’s heart dropped to the hollows of her stomach. How could it fail her now, when she needed its powers the most? She reached for the dagger tied to her waist and pulled it from the sheath, gripping the hilt too tight. She wanted to throw it but didn’t trust her aim.