As the final note faded, the merchant bowed. “Thank you. I confess I have obtained the better bargain once more.”

“That you did,” Wenzhi agreed, his eyes alight.

I returned Master Bingwen’s bow. “It was a fair trade. The best kind.”

As Wenzhi and I left the shop, heading back to the palace, I clutched the silk-wrapped package of shells in my hands.

“What will you do with them?” he wanted to know.

“A decoy,” I said slowly, unraveling the plan in my mind. “To make the soldiers think I’m where I am not.”

He halted in his tracks, facing me. “Let me help. Let me go with you,” he asked again.

“You can’t. And I find it hard to believe you’re eager to help Liwei,” I said, concealing my own trepidation.

He made an impatient sound. “Not for him; for you.”

“You must not follow me,” I told him.

“If that is what you wish. Though there is one thing I want in exchange for my … compliance.”

“I would rather—”

“Just a promise, in exchange for mine. That you’ll stay alive.” A corner of his mouth lifted. “What did you think I would ask for?”

Heat crept across the back of my neck. “I fully intend on staying alive.”

“If anyone hurts you, they will regret it,” he declared ominously. “But it is a good plan,” he conceded.

High praise from one who had plotted each step so meticulously that he had fooled the Celestials for years, and betrayed me so thoroughly. We were on civil terms, now. Allies, almost? Yet whenever he spoke, I could not help weighing his words for deceit. Trust was infinitely easier to destroy than restore.

Still, I had to know one thing that ate away at me whenever I saw him. “The Celestial soldiers who marched to your border—would you have killed them all?”

“No,” he answered without hesitation. “The mist was meant to confound them, to make them easier to subdue. Hostages are of greater use, to force the Celestial Kingdom’s surrender. Some would have died, an unavoidable circumstance of war, but I would have spared those I could. The effects of the mist were unexpected in the chaos of battle—inflaming bloodlust, inciting violence. I take no pleasure in tormenting others. That is my brother’s specialty.”

The mist had affected me too. I had been disoriented, frightened, confused, until the Black Dragon bore me to safety—but felt no urge to hurt another.

His gaze bored into mine. “Did you really think I intended to kill them all?”

“Yes,” I said bluntly. “For I did not think you would lie, steal, and imprison me either.”

“I would have released you after the battle with the Celestials; I could not risk our soldiers’ safety before.” He paused, speaking with emphasis, “I am sorry, Xingyin.”

“Would you do it again?” I demanded. “If so, you do not truly regret it.”