I did not want to take more risks to see the Emperor anymore. I just wanted to get out of the courtyard and return to the Yeting Court as soon as possible. Looking around, I found the entrance in the distance and scurried down the corridor.
I heard a loud crack, as if roof tiles had split under a heavy weight. I paused, looking up. There, between the branches of the oak tree, I caught sight of a large shadow. Was that…a man? I blinked and looked harder. The shadow was gone.
In the sky, clouds gathered, but still no rain.
I was not sure what I had really seen. Frowning, I turned to face the wide Altar House. Its doors were ajar. The Emperor’s golden regalia flitted across the gap, and he shouted something. I could not understand what he said, but he sounded angry.
What was going on? I crept closer to the building. I was not allowed to enter it, for the Altar House was sacred and reserved for only men and high-ranking women, but what if the shadow on the roof was a man… I could not help myself. Carefully, I walked down the corridor and went up the stone stairs stained with the yellow water the priest had sprinkled earlier.
I stopped in front of the House and listened. It was quiet inside. I peered into the gap between the doors. It was too dark, and I could not see anything. Hesitant, I held the door frame and pushed. My hand touched something soft. I looked down.
A hand with yellow stains on the fingertips. The priest’s hand, clutching the door frame from the other side. I started and glanced up, expecting to see his reproachful face.
But there was no priest.
9
A severed hand!
I shrank back, an uncontrollable shiver rushing through my body. The priest’s hand. Still grasping the door frame.
My teeth chattered. I grabbed the other door for support. It swung away from me, and I fell facedown inside the room.
A peculiar odor—a mixture of mold, acid, musk, and camphor—assaulted my nose. My head swam.
A pair of red eyes gazed at me. The priest. Or rather, what was left of him.
I stared for a moment. Then I screamed.
That was what the comet had brought us. An unthinkable, unspeakable crime. Right in the sacred Altar House. And the Emperor. What had happened to him?
A loud thump rose somewhere. I froze.
“Who’s there?” I asked and searched. But a thick gloominess draped before me, and I could not see anything.
A groan came from deep within the House.
My throat tightening, I rose to my feet. “The One Above All?”
There was no answer.
I blinked. I wanted to back out, but I could not do it. I had to find out what was going on. My hands shaking, I walked toward the center of the House. The long panels, draping from the ceiling, brushed my shoulder like the cold tail of a snake. But my eyes had adjusted to the dark, and I could see banners, bamboo sticks for divination, incense, and paper money scattered on the ground. Ahead of me, rows of mortuary tablets stood like miniature tombstones, while burning candles appeared like weeping statues.
The cloth covering the altar table fluttered. A man leaned against the table, his bejeweled mortarboard at his feet.
“Oh heavens, oh heavens!” I rushed to the Emperor. Blood gushed from his mouth, and his face looked gray like ashes. “What happened, the One Above All?”
A tremor passed over his lips, and he pressed his hand on his blood-soaked shoulder.
“Leave him,” a voice said, and a figure emerged from the dark.
The killer! Still inside the building! I released the Emperor and scrambled backward. “Who…who are you?”
The killer inched closer, dressed in a vest, a skirt, and leggings. He limped a little. I wanted to run but could not find strength to lift my feet. Where were the Emperor’s personal guards? Two had followed him when he’d entered the building, but most of them, I understood, had been dismissed by the Emperor prior to the divination, and they were dining in the feasting hall. They would not hear my screams over the rowdy drinking and loud fife music.
The killer raised his sword.
“Guards, guards!” I pulled up my skirt and ran. Panels brushed my face, and I pushed them aside. Behind me, the killer’s heavy footsteps followed. I kicked away a crumpled banner on the ground, ducked behind a small table, and passed an incense pot. I skidded on something slippery. Under my feet, a pool of blood spread like a thick, luxurious Persian rug. At its edge, a body…no, two bodies sprawled—the guards!—one with a dagger in his chest and the other with his throat slit.
Metal clinked behind me. The killer was catching up! Gripping my skirt, I raced toward the half-open door, where bright daylight poured through.