A dagger had sunk deep into his back.
“I was looking for an opportunity to put you down,” the Pure Lady said, wiping her bejeweled hand on her silver gown. “You don’t think we went through all this trouble for you, do you?”
To my horror, Taizi swayed and dropped to the ground. They had used him. They had used his grief to break the palace’s gates, and then they simply stabbed him and let him die.
“Good riddance.” Prince Yo turned around and shouted, “Now bring my father!”
He had caught the Emperor?
I felt chilled, as though the prince had just stabbed me with a dagger, and all around me, the women and ministers screamed and cried.
And he came. The mighty one, the One Above All, and the lord of all the land and the seven seas, was dragged across the blood-soaked earth and, his head lolling to one side, he knelt before his son.
“So what do you say, Father?” Prince Yo laughed. “You never cared about me. You sent me into exile. For what? I did nothing wrong, I told you. You wouldn’t listen. You never listened. During the months of my exile, I swore that since I could not make you listen to me while you were on your feet, I must have your ears while you are on your knees.”
“You are as foolish as you are devious.” The Emperor’s voice, slow and slurred, was filled with venom. “I do not have a son like you.”
“Are you sure, Father?” Prince Yo leaned over. “Can’t you see it? I am your true son. I did precisely what you have done. I am like you, exactly like you, and when I rule, I shall rule like you.”
The Emperor’s body trembled, as though he were seized and shaken by an invisible hand again. For a moment, I thought he would tumble to the ground, just like he had surprised us in the Audience Hall. But he did not. He held on, his head jerking repeatedly.
“You’re an old man, Father. You’re going to die.” Prince Yo shook his head. “You will die now. Tonight. Face it.”
“I—will—not—”
“Then be proud of me! Look at me! Why are you not proud of me? What do you want that I don’t have? I deserve so much more. I can do so much more. Why? Why?” he screamed.
The Pure Lady put a hand on his arm.
“Very well,” Prince Yo said, panting. “I will finish you myself. But you should have seen this coming, Father.”
I wanted to close my eyes. I had never loved the Emperor. He was not a good man or a good lover, like Jewel had said, but had I wished him to die?
Perhaps.
But not like that.
Prince Yo raised his sword. I shivered, and without thinking, I closed my eyes.
“No!” a voice shouted.
My eyes flew open. Pheasant!
His sword paused in the air. Prince Yo turned.
From behind the tree stump, many shadows sprang, carving the night’s black shade like thunderbolts. For a second, I thought the rebels had all converged from the corners of the kingdom and tried to cut a slice of the Emperor and us. Then I saw the Captain’s bloodstained face, his men swarming behind him, and among them, riding on a horse, was Pheasant.
I straightened. Oh, Pheasant! The bonfire blazed near him and illuminated his face. He looked golden, supreme, and magnificent, and his motion, steady and determined, glimmered with brightness. He thrust his arm forward, shouting, and the men around him roared, invigorated.
Tears rolled down my cheeks. I wanted to run and embrace him. I could not, because a surge of commotion had engulfed me. A scream rent the sky, and around me, shadows leaped and fell, chasing one another. Swords, daggers, spears, and lances flew in the air and entangled. Men groaned. Bones crushed. Knuckles cracked. Skulls collided against one another. I drew back, my gaze still fixed on the lithe figure on the horse.
“Pheasant!” I shouted.
He turned his head in my direction but did not seem to see me. It did not matter. I ran. Every part of my body ached as I limped toward the arched gateway. I found Daisy and helped her rise. Another palace woman groaned at my feet, and I pulled her up too. Together, we trudged across the sticky ground, while the sharp clang of weapons rang in my ears. Finally, we crossed the archway of the Tongxun Gate and arrived at the vast area in the Inner Court. I slid down the wall and stretched out my legs. I was spent.
“I’ve got the Emperor!” someone cried out on the other side of the gate. “Keep him safe!”
“No one touches my brother!” Pheasant’s voice. “Leave Taizi to me!”
“My son!” a woman shrieked. The Pure Lady. “Oh, my son! You murderer—”
Then all of a sudden, her piercing voice ceased.
I wanted to see what was happening to her, but I was too exhausted. Warm liquid splashed my face, and I did not trouble to wipe it away. I was used to blood, the sticky liquid with a thick odor. A man wielding a sword raced through the archway and dove toward us. He was about to reach me when he fell to his knees. A sword—the Captain’s—had sunk into his back. More rebels poured through the passage but sagged, and finally, the only people who stood before me were the Captain and his men.
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