King Wenming’s fingers tapped the armrest of his throne in a ceaseless, unhurried rhythm. “My son has shared this and more. According to him, Wugang’s army is almost invincible, capable of destroying an immortal with a single strike of their blades. They might even be impervious to our magic, though that has yet to be fully tested.”

I took heart from his words. Perhaps we might be able to convince him of our urgency. “Wugang does not seek to rule just the Celestial Kingdom but the entire Immortal Realm. He will cast his eyes toward the Cloud Wall too, it is only a matter of time.”

“Indeed,” the king agreed smoothly. “Yet the fact remains, you have a favor to ask of me.”

I swallowed, pushing through the thickness in my throat. “We need the Divine Mirror Scroll to stop him.”

“You make it sound like a simple request. Many have sought this to further their own ends. What do you intend to do with the scroll?” His tone hardened, his fingers stilling against his armrest.

Did he think me a liar? Plotting with his son to usurp his power? “If Your Majesty performs the enchantment on me, I can get close enough to Wugang to end this.” I did not reveal the rest of my plan; I did not trust him with it.

“Father, I would have no part in this,” Wenzhi emphasized. “You would perform the enchantment on her alone. Moreover, Xingyin has no talent in our magic; she is no threat to you.”

“I will be the judge of that,” the king said, raising his hand.

Before I could decipher his meaning, violet light streaked from the king’s palm toward me. I reached for a shield, too late, as it struck—jarring, like dust blown into my eyes. I writhed as the discomfort sharpened, stinging like splinters pressed into my scalp. My pulse stuttered, my fingers clawing at my head, trying to wrench myself free of this enemy that had crept in unbidden, unheard, unseen. I grasped my powers, scrambling to erect a barrier—a task as hopeless as plastering sand onto porcelain. The force slammed harder against my consciousness, the pain stabbing deeper, a scream forming in my throat—

“Father, enough!”

The fury and terror in Wenzhi’s voice pierced my daze. His magic surged forth in a dense mist that swept over me, prying loose the malevolent hold on my mind. As he grasped my hand, holding me steady, his power rushed through my veins with a reviving force. My breathing eased yet I could barely move, my senses still scattered from this vicious intrusion.

“Treachery!” the Virtuous Consort snarled, pointing at Wenzhi. “How dare you attack your father, our king?”

“I did not attack.” Wenzhi spoke with stony calm, his eyes glittering dangerously. “No one is allowed to hurt her, not even you, Father.”