Page 32 of The Blood Orchid

Zheng Sili groaned, closing his eyes. “Okay, everyone shut up while I think of what to do.”

He could think all he wanted, but there was no way around it—we needed waterstones. Either to put out the flames, or to strengthen the building supports before the roof fully caved in and crushed us.

I squinted against the sting of smoke and glared at the stonesin my palms as if they would tell me the answer.What would the Moon Alchemist do?I thought. She could probably combine all the stones together into a waterstone, or some other high-level alchemy that would kill me if I even attempted it. I couldn’t make stones change their element type.

Unless...

I picked up three of my earthstones—brown tanzanite—holding them up to the light. I’d bought the raw stone because it was cheaper, the brownish color rendering it an earthstone.

But if the color changed, the stone type could change as well.

The classification of alchemy stones was a complex science, but it was largely based on color. Green gemstones were usually woodstones, red were firestones, blue were waterstones.

But gem colors could change. It usually happened when jewelers treated them with heat. And trapped inside this golden oven, we had plenty of heat to spare.

I hurled my tanzanite into the flames.

“Do you have a death wish?” Zheng Sili said, gripping my shoulders. “We could have thought of something to use those for!”

“I did,” I said, shoving him back and handing him three of my six firestones. “We’re making some waterstones.”

Zheng Sili took the stones, staring at them like he’d never seen a rock in his life. “You want to forge a waterstone from tanzanite?” he said slowly. “Do you have any idea how much heat that requires?”

“Luckily, we have the top two alchemists in Lingnan and six firestones between us,” I said.

“Wait,” Wenshu said, rubbing the sting of smoke from his eyes. “You’re going to makemorefire?”

“You should probably stand back,” I said. “Keep Durian covered.”

“Jewelers do this in ovens, not with open flames in their faces!” Zheng Sili said, cuffing sweat from his forehead as Wenshu hurried farther away.

The ceiling crunched ominously above us, and all three of us raised our arms for cover, but nothing fell except stray sparks.

“You have any better ideas?” I said.

Zheng Sili’s face crumpled, and I already knew the answer. He was used to fairness, doing alchemy under perfect, scholarly conditions.

I turned and marched toward the door, standing as close as I could without actually burning myself. I crushed the firestones between my palms and closed my eyes.

Firestones had always spoken to me. It was a stone of destruction, calling on all the rage deep within my soul to raze the world to ashes. The stones began to heat up, so I held my open palms toward the flames, glaring at the tanzanite simmering on the ground. Fire bloomed from my palms, amplifying the heat and smoke of the room. It wouldn’t burn me for now, as long as I stayed in control. I had no idea how long this would take, but I would have to bear it until it worked.

After a moment, Zheng Sili stood beside me. “If we get out of this alive, I’ll buy you a drink,” he said. “But if I melt myself to death because of you, I’m haunting you forever.”

“If we die, I’ll buy you a drink in hell,” I said.

He laughed, the sound loud over the roar of flames. “At least you’re honest about where we both stand,” he said. Then he clapped the firestones between his palms, and released a blast of blue fire at the doorway.

I had almost forgotten how powerful his alchemy was. The first time we’d sparred, I’d been amazed at the way he wielded alchemy with the finesse of a zither player, while I used it morelike a heavy mallet. I supposed that a lifetime of private alchemy tutors was worth something. But for all his skill, he had always lacked innovation, and in the end, that was why I’d been chosen by the Empress over him. But that certainly didn’t make him useless.

The flames before us doubled, pulling sweat from my face, casting dizzy heat waves into the air around me. The fire stole all the words from my lips, all the air from my lungs. My palms began to ache, the fire brightening from a deep red to a clear orange.

But it wasn’t enough. I could tell from the earthstones still lying dormant on the tiles, slowly paling but nowhere near the blue shade we needed.

I closed my eyes, trying to forget the searing heat on my palms. Firestone was fed by rage, so that was what I needed to focus on.

When I reached deep inside myself for a thread of anger, I saw the Empress.

Her eyes like sharp stars in the dead of night. Her delicate fingers coated in liquid gold, tongue lashing out to lick the substance from under her nails. Her throat pulsing as she drank red wine, a wall of fire in front of her, the tangy smell of burning flesh coating my throat as I entered the throne room where both of us would die.