My gaze fell upon a jade disc set into the scales of their armor, right where their hearts should be—if such a thing beat in their chests. A single character was carved upon it: 永. Eternity. One of the first words my mother had taught me to write. The greatest mortal dream, though a nightmare for Wugang.

He tucked the flute into his sash. It had been a monstrous axe the last time I saw it, and it gave me little comfort that he no longer deemed a weapon necessary. Gone were those gloves he used to wear to cover his scars. Maybe he no longer feared the scorn of others.

He gestured at his soldiers. “Are they not beautiful? The perfect army: Strong. Loyal. Obedient.”

“What are they?” The answer darted at the edge of my mind.

“Look closer. Don’t you recognize any?” His tone lifted in invitation, his triumph barely contained.

I searched their faces—strangers, all of them. What did Wugang mean? Just then my gaze fell upon one in the crowd, a faint recognition grazing my awareness—of a soldier who had accompanied Liwei and me to the Eternal Spring Forest. Ten had gone, none returned. No … this could not be him, despite that elusive prickle of familiarity. There was not the faintest glimmer of consciousness in his face, caught somewhere between the living and the dead.

“How dare you.” Liwei’s voice cracked with revulsion. “Fallen Celestials are laid to rest in the Divine Harmony Sky, a place of peace for their immortal spirits to rest. Only then can they achieve true tranquility, to become one with our realm.”

“It is believed to be a curse to disturb the slumber of the dead, to desecrate the sanctity of this place.” Wenzhi’s eyes narrowed in disgust.

“Those already cursed have no fear of such things,” I said slowly. Wugang’s heart was barren. Because he cared for nothing, he feared nothing—and such a thing made him more dangerous by far.

The light emanating from the soldiers’ eyes stirred something in me, their pale glow akin to that of—“The laurel seeds,” I said aloud, recoiling in horror. “Its power was of regeneration and healing, and yet somehow you’ve bent it into this.”

“Is not the destiny of immortals to live forever instead of languishing in a grave?” Wugang taunted. “Resurrection is the greatest healing power of all. Truly, the gift of eternity.”

I studied their blank faces, my insides writhing like a nest of snakes. “You’re a monster. This is no life you’ve given them.”

He slanted his head to one side. “Oh, I didn’t do this alone.”

“What do you mean?” I demanded.