Wenzhi staggered back a step, his breathing roughened. “They’ve broken the shield,” he warned. As his energy gathered, forming it anew—a guandao plunged through to sink into Shuxiao’s shoulder. White light crackled along the blade as I dove at her, gripping the pole to tear it away. It slid from her flesh with a wet sound, the metal dripping with blood, a gaping slit left in its wake. Spinning around, I drove my sword through the soldier’s chest, bearing down until the jade disc shattered, rivulets of fire pouring into the wound. The creature quivered before going limp, falling to the ground.

Shuxiao’s body jerked as she sucked in a gust of air. I pressed her hand, flinching from the chill. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, though her forehead was wrinkled with discomfort. Liwei crouched beside her, his hand gliding over the wound. The blood flow staunched, though she remained ashen.

“Be careful,” Liwei cautioned. “Their weapons possess a strange magic, weakening us. It’s fortunate you got it out when you did. It spreads like a contagion, a mortal illness—except it affects our powers instead of our bodies. If unhealed, it will drain her energy, consuming her lifeforce.”

“Can you cure her?” My voice trembled.

He frowned. “I can’t do it here. I’ve contained it for now, but it won’t hold for long.”

Shuxiao’s eyes were glassy, her breathing labored. My grip tightened around her hand. “Don’t tire yourself. Rest. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Despite my words, despair seeped through me. This was a battle we could not win. We had to escape, but how? The dragons, my mind whispered. They could not fight these creatures, but they could help us flee. While I was reluctant to expose them to Wugang, I would not let Shuxiao die. Fumbling in my pouch, my fingers brushed the paper dragon Prince Yanming had given me before closing around something flat and cool. The scale from the Long Dragon.

Immerse this in liquid to call us, it had told me.

My fingers curled around it, pressing against its fine edge—stinging—as it sliced my skin. Blood trickled forth, slippery and warm, as I rubbed it against the scale.