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Lord Zhangwei leaned forward to take the reins, his chest pressing against my back, hard and cool. I shifted slightly, trying to ignore the way his arms enclosed me—how safe I felt, in spite of all I knew of him. Our earlier quarrel replayed through my mind, my anger unquenched.

We flew a short distance, a sea of glittering sand stretching beneath us. Turquoise stone sloped up from the desert, forming a ridge of mountains, their peaks cresting like waves. A magnificent palace was sprawled upon the highest one, all white and silver like it was carved from ice—the Palace of Radiant Light. From a distance its beauty was all the more startling when surrounded by the untamed majesty of the desert and mountains. Delicate aquamarine bridges arched across the skies, linking the buildings like a finely spun spider web.

We landed on the outskirts of the palace. Peonies bloomed alongside jasmine and azaleas, in the shade of plum-blossom trees. The flowers here defied the seasons of my world, infusing the air with a heady fragrance, one that stirred something inside me—was it the remembrance of my gardens at home? A sense of peace stole over me; a desire to linger, if only I could forget why we were here.

“Why not land inside the palace?” I asked.

“This is an added precaution since the attempted attack. Whether we fly or ride through the skies, all must now walk through the main entrance,” he explained.

He kept a discreet distance between us as we walked. Some silences were comfortably rounded at the corners, but the one that cloaked us was jagged and sharp.

The guards at the entrance bowed to him. “Lord Zhangwei,” one of them said, “Her Majesty reminds you that the main wing of the palace is still under repair, and to use the pathway through the new wing.”

Was the damage to the palace caused by the attack he mentioned? Was that why I had been ordered to stay with him?

When Lord Zhangwei nodded, the other soldier cleared his throat. “Her Majesty also commanded that you attend to her on the Dragon Platform the moment you arrived. The hour is near.”

“I will go at once.”

As the god strode away, I followed him through a courtyard of pine trees, down a long corridor lit by lanterns. My mind was whirling, barely noticing my surroundings. The attendants we passed looked at us curiously, the courtiers inclining their heads to Zhangwei, some exchanging sly smiles. Were they savoring the thought of the god’s impending torment—someone they had probably envied and undoubtedly feared?

As it turned out, vipers existed in all courts.

Twin doors of dark mahogany loomed at the end of the corridor. Dragon heads sculpted from gold formed the handles, a thick ring clasped in each of their jaws.

As the god grasped one of the rings, he stilled. “Fight me in all else but trust me in this: keep your head down, and do not draw any attention to yourself. To the court, you are just a mortal from Tianxia, and many have a bloated sense of their own superiority. If you offend them or the queen, if you give them cause to fault you—whether by accident or design—Her Majesty will have no choice but to punish you.”

I nodded, not so stubborn as to ignore good sense. The Queen of the Golden Desert would also be keen for an excuse to chastise me after I’d escaped her clutches yesterday. As he looked at me, an apology hovered on my lips for causing his punishment, for my cruel words earlier. I’d lashed out at him because of my own guilt and fear. But I suppressed the impulse, afraid to open another window between us.

With a tug of the god’s hand, the doors swung open, sunlight spilling on the floor like molten amber. He strode onward without hesitation, his silhouette soon consumed by the brightness.

And then, just the silence remained, taut with dread.

11

I waited a moment, gathering the courage to follow the God of War. Yet voices from behind startled me, drifting from those who hadn’t turned into the corridor yet.

“Hurry, else we’ll miss the show,” a woman urged.

Show? My hands clenched in disgust.

“A rare event. Lord Zhangwei’s position is no longer as secure,” a man noted in a pleased tone.

“Our esteemed God of War has grown arrogant,” the woman added. “He doesn’t obey our queen as readily as he used to. I heard he defended a mortal against Her Majesty.”

“Maybe Lord Zhangwei will come to heel after this.” A derisive laugh followed.

I should be glad they spoke disdainfully of him, yet a sourish sensation writhed in my stomach.

“Perhaps I should pay Lord Zhangwei a courtesy visit after his thrashing,” the man mused.

“What can you do that the healers cannot? You just have a soft spot for our God of War,” the woman replied snidely.

“Indeed, I would loath to see such physical perfection marred.” He lowered his voice as he added, “I hear his old wounds are still troubling him, those from the war with the Wuxin.”

I smothered a laugh. Clearly this pair had never seen Lord Zhangwei in battle. He fought with such vigor and force, it seemed impossible he could be doing more.

They turned into the corridor, a man and woman in ornate brocade robes hurrying toward the doors. Rings glittered from their fingers, a necklace of plump jade beads around the throat of the lady. Their eyes flicked toward me, then to the red thread bracelet around my wrist—stark evidence of my mortality. Their lips curled as they strode past like I didn’t exist. How their scorn stung, but I had to swallow it. The weakest among the immortals could kill me with ease, an infuriating and frightening thought.