He reached out and hugged me, his palm stroking the back of my head. “I am proud of you, my daughter, whether you do this or not. If you cannot, there is no shame. Say it now, and we will find another way.”

There was no other way.

“Houyi, is Xingyin all right?” My mother appeared at the entrance, looking anxiously at me.

“Thank you, Father.” It was a relief to have said all this aloud, to confront the inner demons that plagued me. And even though the impossible task lay before me still, I did not feel so alone anymore.

He released me. “Remember, my child, if you believe in yourself, in what you’re doing—no one can take that from you.”

He left then. All of them gone, each carrying away a piece of me. As the doors slid shut, their footsteps faded, the silence deepening with foreboding.

I stared at the mirror, my mother’s face looking back at me. Reaching into my pouch, I pulled out the translucent orb containing the feather. It shivered like a living creature, each barb ablaze, shining golden bright. It warmed to my touch, straining against the restraints that bound it. Drawing a ragged breath, I released my magic inward, plunging it into the core of my lifeforce as I had done once before, the day I released the dragons. I clawed it apart, the glittering pool spilling free, incandescent with the light of the heavens. I did not hesitate, not allowing myself to think as I pressed the orb against my forehead, shut my eyes, and let my magic sweep over it. The feather seared as it sank through my skin and flesh, like a pebble pressed into damp sand—giving way as it slid into the core of my lifeforce. The heat scorched, startling in its intensity—and at once I wove a shield around it, tightening the barriers until not a pinprick slipped through.

It was done. My head throbbed like a hammer was pounding it from within. How had King Wenming borne this? It would suffice to drive anyone to madness. A shudder rippled through my body as I sank upon the bed, a sob wrenched from my chest before I buried it—for at the very moment my life was illuminated by love, it had never seemed so dark.

Chapter 35

They came swiftly, their auras creeping closer—mirrored reflections with the stillness of ice. Throttled gasps swelled from the corridor beyond, something heavy striking the ground with a thud. I flinched at the thought of the guards, but then the door burst open, my fears turning inward.