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He scowls, wrapping the reins around his hand. “I don’t like how he seeks you out, how his eyes follow you—how he pushes you for more than you wish to give.”
“Nor do I like the way Shiji’s hair drapes your arm,” I remark tersely, his honesty spurring mine. “But you and I are free to spend our time with others. Neither of us is bound.”
“I want to be.” He speaks so quietly I almost miss his meaning. “You and I—we’re good at playing games. But I don’t want to play them anymore. They fester, they wound. They can become real. The mistrust sowed in the Palace of Nine Hills lingers today, even after all I’ve said and done to show you the truth.”
“You speak openly today.”
“Too much was left unspoken between us; we are both too wary. After we fought, I resolved to speak my mind with you. I’d rather you be angry with me because of what I do, than what you think I’ve done.” His gaze holds mine. “You are the only one I have ever wanted, the one I want still. There is no one else.”
My heart races, it soars until it feels like I’m flying. We stare at each other in silence, the wind threading his hair, grazing the sharp cheekbones of his handsome face. The urge rises to take the hand he offers, the future before us. Still, I’m afraid; I’ve been hurt before.
“If you want me, then tell me; you don’t have to answer now,” Jin says wryly. “I wanted you to know my heart, but I won’t impose my presence. I won’t force you to want me too.”
Before I can reply, Shenming calls out a warning. Ahead, the chasm gapes across the ground, stretching all the way out of sight. Several large trees tower close to the edges on both sides. “Do you know what lies beyond?” Shenming asks Jin.
“We never ventured this far south; there were more pressing matters closer to home,” he replies. “We also lack the talents of your people that would make such exploration possible.”
Shenming and several soldiers ride closer to the trees, then dismount. As Dian did before, they raise their hands to touch the bark. Light emanates between their palms, more discernable to those attuned to it. The air grows taut, the trees shuddering as they slowly arch over the ravine, their roots springing from the soil as they fall to the other side.
“Quickly.” I recall Dian’s warning from before. “If we delay, it will harm the trees.”
Jin and I ride across the makeshift bridge, the horses of Thorn Valley galloping without fear. As we reach the other side, I exhale with relief—the rest of our group moving swiftly following Shenming’s commands. Once everyone is safely across, the trees gently spring back, their roots settling into the earth once more, their branches quivering.
Jin turns to Prince Zixin, their expressions mirroring their mutual dislike. “Lead the way, Your Highness.”
“Head south and then west.” The prince raises his voice. “Avoid the swamps. The scouts who made it back also warned that you must eat and drink nothing from there, no matter how tempting.”
“Southwest?” Jin repeats, suspicion thickening his tone. “Isn’t that the opposite direction of our destination?”
“Go the other way if you wish. You’ll waste days trying to cross the inaccessible mountain range,” Prince Zixin snaps. “Head southwest for now. We will cut east later.”
When Shenming nods, the soldiers disperse. Prince Zixin watches them with a stony expression—and a flicker of something darker, like he is burning with ambition and resentment. He has no choice but to help us, just as we must trust his guidance. Though I’m glad I bound him to us with the poison.
We travel without hindrance through the forest. As we ride, the landscape shifts—no longer barren, but lush with plants and flowers, trees bearing vivid-colored fruits.
Dian recoils with revulsion as we pass them. “Predators of the forest,” she mutters. “These fruits aren’t like those on our island—a deception to lure wild animals to eat them, to sap their life. I will be glad when we leave.”
Many feel the same, conversation dwindling as we quicken our pace, the horses tireless with their unearthly speed. Near the end of the forest, a thicket of thorns grows—the yellowish ones found in the north of Thorn Valley.
Jin rides through the soldiers, approaching the barrier. The thorns slither apart almost silently, forming a pathway that the rest gallop through. As we emerge from the forest, a sharp metallic edge cuts the air, grown distinctly cooler.
We are back in the Iron Mountains.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
THE MOMENT WE CROSS THE BOUNDARY, A CHANGE DESCENDS over us. Our horses’ appearances morph to those of the Three Kingdoms, except for their iridescent hooves. Soldiers, most of whom have never left Mist Island before, glance around nervously. Shenming’s expression is alert, while Prince Zixin holds himself straighter. For him, this is home. A mask has settled over Jin’s face—my insides taut with foreboding, the kind I felt when returning to the Palace of Nine Hills.
“We should rest soon,” Shenming says, when even the horses of Thorn Valley begin to slow after our ruthless pace.
“Not here. It will be safer farther ahead, once we cross over the Pearl Ocean border,” Prince Zixin instructs. “My sister won’t have troops there.”
“You’d better be speaking the truth,” Dian says icily. “If we’re led into a trap and attacked, the first thing I’ll do is cut your throat.”
Prince Zixin glares at her. “What if I’m innocent?”
“I’ll ask questions after.”
“Why would I betray you?” the prince says brusquely. “My sister wants me dead after stealing my throne. The only chance to reclaim my future is—”
