Page 38 of The Blood Orchid
“There’s an activated alchemy stone in here,” I said in Guangzhou dialect. I’d tried to feed the Empress an activated stoneonce... in the hopes of exploding her organs from the inside.
Wenshu sat up straight, trying to subtly glance around the room. “Who would do that?” he whispered.
“Maybe someone found out I’m an alchemist and told another private army,” I said. “Maybe Zheng Sili sold us out for new shoes or something.”
Wenshu sighed. “I really don’t want to be punctured with any more arrows today.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want a fight either.” I’d hardly slept at all, and my first meal in a day had just been snatched away. Another fight with a private army wasn’t going to end well for us, alchemy stones or not.
“Shall we slip out quietly and run like cowards?” Wenshu said.
“It’s a tactical retreat, not cowardice,” I said.
“Of course,” he said, nodding quickly. “You go first.”
I cast one last sad glance at the bowl of congee that looked delicious if not for the likely poison, then pushed out my chair and headed for the door.
I had almost made it when a man wedged himself between me and the doorway, arms crossed. Another man appeared behind him, yanking the door shut and slamming down a wooden bar across the beams so no one else could enter. I took a startled step back, looking between them.
“Fan Zilan,” the first man said, grinning darkly, “you’re not going anywhere.”
Chapter Eight
I just wanted dinner, I thought grimly, backing up against a wooden post as the man took another step forward. Was this the Empress and her pet alchemist, or just some soldiers from a private army? The strangers’ eyes glowed, but we were standing right beside a light, and I couldn’t tell if it was the reflection of candlelight or gold that burned from within.
I glanced over my shoulder at Wenshu, who had risen to his feet and was peering through the crowd to see what was going on, then I slid my hand back toward my satchel. But before I could reach any stones, someone seized my wrist.
A young woman stood behind me, wedged between me and the wooden post, my wrist clamped firmly in her hand. I couldn’t see her well from this angle, but her long hair fell over my shoulder, the tip of her cold blade pressed delicately to my throat. If this was the Empress, just how many people had she convinced to help her?
“Three against one isn’t very fair,” I said, edging away from the blade. “Neither is trying to poison me. You really can’t even capture me without all this fanfare? It’s pretty embarrassing.”
The first man shook his head. “We’re not trying to capture you,” he said. “We’re trying to make you listen.”
Listen to what?I thought.
“Zilan?”
Wenshu’s voice cut through the crowd, and for a moment, both men turned toward him.
In their moment of distraction, I pressed my free hand to the wooden beam.
Alchemy rushed from my firestone rings into the post, bleeding through the wooden fibers. The beam crunched as the center weakened, spraying wooden splinters. The woman flinched at the sound, her grip loosening enough for me to elbow her in the stomach without letting her slice my throat open. I hurried toward Wenshu, grabbing another handful of firestones and praying the ceiling didn’t come down on us.
Before I could throw the firestones, someone yanked me back by the waist and twisted my arm until my stones clattered to the ground.How many people in this pub want me dead?I thought as I tried to wrench my hands away. Everyone at the pub had gone quiet and turned to watch.
Wenshu called my name and rushed forward, but another man grabbed him by the collar and slammed him onto the table, overturning the candles.
Shadows rushed across tables and corners as the cold night enclosed the room. Only a few candles on the far side of the room remained, a thin breath of pale light in the pub that now felt more like a crypt. As the last two candles flickered, the eyes of every person in the room glimmered in tandem, their irises a warm gold.
A wave of coldness rippled down my spine. Surely notallof these people could be the Empress.
I twisted back to face the man holding my wrist. The moment our eyes locked, a dark grin spread across his face. It didn’t matter whose skin she wore—I would know that expression anywhere.
“I really can’t believe you put your dirty southern blood in the body of royalty,” said the man holding Wenshu, now in crisp Chang’an dialect. “We’ll definitely be leaving this part out of our history texts.”
“I am notdirty!” Wenshu said, cheek pressed against the table.
I threw my weight forward, managing to free one arm, but another man grabbed it before I could reach for more stones. All around me, the customers at every table watched with vacant gold eyes.