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Gasps rippled through the court, a hand pressed to Queen Caihong’s mouth. I laughed recklessly as the God of War stalked toward me, his face grim.

I pointed the sword at him, though it shook a little. “Stay away from me.”

He did not pause as he extended his hand. “Return my sword.”

As my answer, I swung it at him with both hands, though it was far heavier than the one he’d given me. The sword whistled through the air, whispering of death. A thrill coursed through me when the god halted, his eyes blazing. How enraged he must be to see his weapon in the hands of a mortal.

“Release it before you hurt yourself. My sword is dangerous for a mortal to wield,” he warned.

More lies? “Maybe you’ve underestimated us all.” I slashed clumsily at him, yet my palms tingled with a strange energy, emanating from his blade.

As the God of War moved toward me without warning, I thrust the sword at him again, my arms straining, unused to the weight. He dipped back, the blade slicing the air above his face.

“Guards, stop her!” Queen Caihong’s voice rang out, sharp with urgency.

“Don’t hurt her,” the God of War commanded.

As I pointed his weapon at them, sparks scattered from it. The soldiers leapt back, exchanging frantic looks. What magic was this? If only I could summon it again, if only I knew how. Fear clutched me as the soldiers surrounded me again—but they wouldn’t kill me yet, not until the God of War had taken what he wanted.

Behind me, the entrance doors shuddered violently. Cries rang out, a moment before the doors were flung open, crashing against the wall. Lieutenant Yang stumbled into the hall, blood spattered across his armor. He sank to his knees before the throne. “Your Majesty, the Winged Devils have breached the palace!”

Chaos erupted. Guards rushed toward the entrance, courtiers swarming for safety. The Winged Devils crowded into the chamber, some with swords, others using their claws to flay the soldiers. The yellowish gems on their foreheads gleamed with malevolent light, their skin glossy with a waxy sheen. I froze at the sight of them before my instincts kicked in, forcing myself to move—to follow the attendants who were streaming through a small doorway at the back covered by a thick curtain.

“Liyen!”

The God of War roared my name with such urgency—I stilled, glancing behind. Our eyes met, the heat of his gaze scorching me. But then a spear hurtled toward him—my fingers instinctively tightening around the sword. He evaded the attack deftly, then spun to knock away a blade swung at his head. Three Winged Devils closed around him, the god’s face dark with frustration. As one of his soldiers tossed him a sword, I pulled aside the curtain and raced down the narrow corridor, suppressing the twinge in my chest. A last glimpse of the Shield of Rivers and Mountains left on the table filled me with regret, but I had to save myself first.

Hurrying down the corridor, I pushed my way through the crowd of immortals. None glanced my way, all as eager as me to save themselves. Only the God of War and Queen Caihong would be stalking me now, the thought spurring me onward.

My robe was damp with sweat as I ran through a narrow passageway, trying to recall the pathways that led outside. An entrance loomed, one that I recognized, leading to the back of the palace. The glimpse of sky beyond sent a jolt of relief through me, though I hadn’t the faintest idea how to get back to Tianxia.

One step at a time.

As I dashed across the garden, a rushing sound snared my attention. A Winged Devil was chasing me, gliding forward with startling speed. Terror clawed me as I plunged into a thick grove of bamboo—just as something hissed through the air. I ducked instinctively, evading a streak of grayish mist. More followed with an eerie rush, but I swerved abruptly to evade them.

I was shaking, clinging to the God of War’s sword though it weighed me down. Temptation struck to fling it away, but it was the only thing that might help me. Monsters bleed as mortals do, I reminded myself. They were stronger, but not invulnerable. And this time, I had a sword.

Gritting my teeth, I forced myself onward. As another bolt of magic hurtled toward me, I swung at it with the sword. The bolt shattered abruptly, a strange tingling crawling over my hand. The sword glowed in my hand yet seemed diminished—unlike when the God of War had drawn it. A deep exhaustion was spreading over me, one that sank into my core.

The sun hung low, a crimson disc crowning the heavens. The bamboo grew sparser, barely concealing my presence. I ran through a grassy field, an easy target for the monster chasing me. Ahead, the garden seemed to end, merging into the sky. My heart plunged. Was there nothing beyond? A shadow fell over me, a swish rippling through the air. The creature was closing in; there was nowhere left to run. Tightening my grip on the sword, I spun around—my feet stumbling to a halt.

An enormous creature swooped down before me, magnificent and terrifying. The qilin who’d chased the God of War and me, its antlers shining, its scales gleaming copper. As its great jaws parted, its head lowering toward me—I flinched, suppressing a cry. Yet it nudged my shoulders, brushing its forehead against mine, its mane surprisingly soft. Such affection emanated from the qilin, I went limp with relief . . . from the unexpected calm that spread over me after the anguish of today.

A furious cry rang out, shattering the brief tranquility. The Winged Devil had almost reached us. I raised the God of War’s sword as I pushed the qilin aside—but it lunged in front of me. Was it protecting me? Without hesitation, the qilin hurled itself against the creature, thrusting its antlers into its chest. The Winged Devil screamed, blood streaming from its wounds. It turned on its heel and darted away, likely to find reinforcements. The qilin flew back to me, then lowered itself on the ground, its head tilted in an unspoken invitation. My pulse raced as I climbed upon its back, wrapping an arm around its neck. I didn’t know what I was doing, except this felt right.

The qilin let out a huge sigh as it bounded into the air, its wings spread wide as it bore me away. It was so fast, faster even than the phoenix—the breath struck from my lungs. I should be afraid of the creature, of falling—but I felt safe for some reason, even as the bitter taste of treachery was still raw in my mouth.

“Home. To Tianxia,” I whispered as I stroked the qilin’s head.

It nodded like it understood, flying lower at once. Tears of relief fell from my eyes as my mind slipped briefly to Zhangwei. Was he still battling the Winged Devils? Could he protect himself without his sword? I mocked myself for this remnant of stupidity. If he was hurt, I shouldn’t waste any pity on him.

Together, the qilin and I soared through the skies. Clouds flew against my face, billowing soft and gray. The silence was welcome, this brief peace to unravel my thoughts and the tangle of my emotions. My chest ached with a different type of loss—of betrayal, that hurt no less. I rebuked myself for mourning something false and unworthy . . . but our minds are often wiser than our hearts. Anger seared me that I’d been such a fool, my spirits sunken that I’d failed in what I sought.

I was lucky to have escaped, though I was far from safe—it was not over yet. The God of War knew I possessed the Divine Pearl Lotus and his sword. He would come for me; he would stop at nothing to get what he wanted.

But this time, I would be ready for him.

Part Two