Page 44 of The Blood Orchid

“The Empress?” he said, eyes wide. He straightened up, but lurched unsteadily to one side and braced himself on the stairs. “It’s okay, this isn’t my first drink, there’s alchemy that can help me sober up. Do you have any amethyst?”

“That’s so expensive!” I said. “You use that tosober up?”

“Okay, never mind,” he said, rising to his feet. “I have a faster way.” Then he turned around and vomited behind the stairs.

Wenshu and I grimaced, looking away. When Zheng Sili turned back to us, wiping his mouth on his sleeve, his face looked papery white but his eyes looked slightly more focused. “Okay,what’s the plan?” he said, looking between me and Wenshu.

I looked toward the horizon, where no other towns were visible as far as I could see.

“I think we’re going to need a couple horses.”

Chapter Nine

That night, the prince wasn’t where I’d left him.

“Hong?” I said, winding deeper into the forest. I walked through the dark, silent woods, calling his name.

Part of me was terrified to venture back to the river plane, in case the Empress found me. But worse than that fear was wondering what she’d do to Hong if she found him first. She didn’t even have to hurt him—all she had to do was cut his rope, and he’d wander into the woods and I’d never see him again. It was difficult for a non-alchemist to navigate this plane alone, but I knew better than to underestimate the Empress.

I walked deeper into the woods for several agonizing minutes until I found the rope, wearing thin against the tree. It pulled taut into the distant darkness, disappearing in the hazy fog.

I rushed forward, following the rope as it twisted around trees and branches, a web that only seemed longer and thinner the farther I went on. I hadn’t remembered the rope being this long.

At last, I found Hong standing in the darkness, wrist pulledbehind him, trying to walk forward but held back only by the tether around his wrist.

“Hong?” I whispered.

He didn’t answer. His eyes were dark, his expression slack. I waved a hand in front of his face, but he didn’t even blink. I sighed and wrapped my arms around him, pressing myself to his chest. After a moment, he stopped walking.

“Zilan?” he said.

I nodded into his chest.

He said nothing, but took a step back so the rope wasn’t tugging on his wrist.

“I don’t know what happened,” he said, pressing his free hand to my back. “I don’t remember walking here. Zilan, I—”

“Don’t worry,” I said, holding him tighter. I took his cold hand and tugged him back toward the river. We walked in silence for a few minutes, untangling the rope from branches and bushes along the way until we found a patch of soft grass. He bundled the slack rope in his lap, hands tugging at it anxiously.

“You’re upset,” he said.

I almost laughed. His brain was so rotted that he had nearly walked into his own eternal ending, and yet the first thing he wanted to talk about was my feelings.

I couldn’t keep lying to him. The Empress was too real a threat, only growing more creative by the day. So I told him about how the Empress had spoken to me through Junyi, about the lost town of Baiyin, about all the bodies the Empress controlled.

He went very still as he listened, staring unblinking into my eyes. This was only his soul, not his true body, so he didn’t need to breathe or blink, but the stonelike stillness unnerved me. When I finished, he sighed and leaned back against the treetrunk, tugging unconsciously at the rope.

At last, he let out a tired laugh. “Of course Mother would refuse to die,” he said. “That’s so like her.”

“You’re not upset?” I said.

He frowned. “I mean, I’m not thrilled that she’s terrorizing you.”

I shook my head. “But you died for nothing,” I said.

Hong paused as if considering this, staring beyond me. He was still for so long that I wondered if he’d forgotten I was here. But then he shook his head slightly, reaching for my hand.

“I didn’t die for nothing,” he said. “I died for you, and you’re still here, so none of it was a waste.”