Gone was his meek demeanor and stooping posture—his brown eyes gleamed like those of a predatory hawk. An adept disguise, I thought wrathfully, as he had also masked his powerful aura. I should have known better than to be tricked by this simple enchantment, the same one Liwei and I had used to slip out of the Jade Palace undetected. If I had sensed this before, I would have drawn a sword on him instead of offering tea. My suspicions of Master Haoran had blinded me to the true menace among us. I cursed myself for letting Master Gang’s frailty lull me into thinking he was no threat when I should have learned by now, things were not always as they seemed.

“Are you here to exchange compositions?” he taunted, making a mockery of his earlier offer.

“I have no interest in the music you play,” I replied, my gaze fixed on his axe. Small, round holes were carved along the slender handle—it was his flute, I realized with a start. My insides churned to think he had brought this weapon into our home, my fingers itching to release the arrow, but I wanted answers first. “Don’t move, don’t reach for your magic. Tell me who you are, and why you came here.”

“Why should I?” His eyes crinkled in seeming amusement, even as they lingered on my arrow. “You have no right to ask me anything. What I’m after does not belong to you.” One of his hands unclenched briefly, revealing thick scars winding across his palm, dark ridges of raised skin glossy with blood.

A moment’s distraction. My head snapped back to him, too late—he was already springing toward me, his axe swung high. I spun aside, releasing my arrow as he dipped back, the shaft whizzing harmlessly over him. As his axe flashed before me again, I darted away, twisting out of reach as his blade sliced a stray lock of my hair, scattering it like shorn grass. A second later and I might have been cleaved apart.