Page 59 of The Blood Orchid

Just as my father’s notes said.

The myth of Penglai was tangled with the myth of eight immortal beings and their elixir of eternal life. I hadn’t been certain when I started this journey just how much of the stories were true, for myths were only seeds of truth before they grew into legends. But the farther north I traveled, the more it seemed that the legends of Penglai were real.

At last, we reached the yurt at the edge of the desert. The wind grew louder as it rolled across the dunes, the tent fabric shuddering in the breeze.

“After you,” the Arcane Alchemist said, pulling back a heavy tent flap. Inside, I could see nothing but darkness.

A strangely cold breeze from inside the tent wound in ribbons up my ankles, and a buzzing sound rose in my ears.

“Go on,” the Arcane Alchemist said. “I know it’s messy, but it’s not that bad. No need to embarrass me.”

The breeze sighed up from the shadowed sand within, the scent of wild orchids that I knew from the outskirts of Guangzhou. The buzzing sound grew louder, and all three of us turned to Zheng Sili, the source of it. He patted down his pockets until he pulled out the compass, the arrow now spinning wildly, humming like a forest of cicadas.

I looked back to the Arcane Alchemist, and that was when I understood.

At the beginning of my journey with alchemy, the key had always been listening.

To the world, the undercurrent of life running through and beneath it, tangled in everything and everyone. To the river and its waters of life lapping over my feet. To the qi that vibrated through the universe like the echo of a zither string, humming with life and warmth.

Transformations are like qi fireworks, Zheng Sili had said. They had to be, because qi was what powered all of our transformations. And right now, the Arcane Alchemist was practically glowing with qi. I could hear the rushing current of blood flowing through his body, the frantic beat of his heart, his every breath a tempest of alchemical power. Behind him, the darkness within the tent pulsed with qi.

“You can change people’s perception of your face,” I said slowly.

The Arcane Alchemist nodded, gaze sliding into a frown. “Yes, we’ve already established this.”

“Can you change people’s perceptions of anything else?”

He hadn’t expected the question, and his startled eyes told the truth before he could speak a single word of protest.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Whatever you think I’ve done, you’re wrong,” he said. “How many times in one night will you accuse me of something with no evidence?”

With his hands raised, my attention focused on the center of his chest, just beside his heart, where the qi was concentrated, loud as the ocean. My gaze followed the silver chain just barely showing beneath his collar, disappearing into his robes.

I stepped forward and grabbed the end, yanking the chain toward me.

The Arcane Alchemist stumbled forward, surprised by theaction. As the chain spilled into my hand, the pendant on the end slid down toward me—a silver ring encasing a cool white gem.

Opal.

I closed my fingers around it just as the Arcane Alchemist seized my wrist, and the world dissolved.

The tent fabric disappeared, as if devoured by the night sky. Wind rushed up from the valley below, carrying the sharp scent of orchids as it tore through the space where only moments ago there was solid ground. We were standing at a precipice above a valley, a steep drop into a rocky chasm below.

Wenshu and Zheng Sili lurched away from the edge, but I ground my heels into the stone and held out the hand gripping the opal pendant. The Arcane Alchemist had been pulling away from me and stumbled at the sudden lack of resistance, wavering over the edge. He grabbed my wrist, and the two of us balanced precariously between land and sky, a thin silver chain taut between us.

“I don’t think we need to go inside,” I said. “I think everything we need is right here.”

He clutched my wrist, his grip sweaty as I extended my arm out another inch, leaning him farther over the edge.

“My ring won’t make you beautiful,” he said, eyes alight with dark fire. “Imade the sacrifice for it. Its powers don’t transfer. Whatever you want to use it for, you’ll have to pay the price.”

I took a step closer to the edge, yanking the Arcane Alchemist forward. “There is nothing I wouldn’t pay,” I said, surprised by the raw anger in my words.

The Arcane Alchemist cast a nervous glance at the valley below. He clutched desperately at my wrist, his nails drawing blood. “That’s what the Sandstone Alchemist thought too,” he said. “And then he nearly destroyed everything.”

My hand tensed around the ring. “What do you mean?” I said.

Before he could answer, the chain snapped.