Page 84 of The Blood Orchid

“This conversation was pointless,” he said, turning away. “Let’s go.”

Then without another word, he headed back into the rain. I pulled up my hood and hurried after him, sure that there was something more I was supposed to say to reassure him, but with no idea where to begin. There were no words in the universe that could explain how much I cared for my brother, and trying to choose the right ones was like parsing the perfect grains of sand from a vast desert. I’d thought Wenshu too pragmatic to need any reassurance, but I would have to think of something. Maybe Zheng Sili, with his expensive education, could help me come up with something eloquent.

Wenshu stopped suddenly. I bumped into him, peering over his shoulder to see what was going on, but could see nothing but the rain in front of us.

“What is it?” I said.

He glanced over his shoulder, then shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, taking off quickly.

At first, I thought he was taking a winding path back to the inn, but he drew closer to the city center and farther from our room. I could smell bread even through the rainstorm, and just when I was starting to think that food would most certainly solve all of our problems, Wenshu drew to a stop again. This time, he rolled up his sleeve and examined his arm.

“What is it?” I said.

He turned and showed me his forearm. There was nothing but pale skin and the purpled scar of his soul tag.

“I know you hate my handwriting,” I said, “but—”

“No,look,” he said, shoving his arm closer to my face. “Goose bumps.”

“Do you... want my coat?” I said, feeling like we were speaking two different languages.

He shook his head. “I’m not cold.”

“Then why are we stopping?”

He glanced over my shoulder, then turned and looked behind him, drawing closer to the wall of the closest building. This startled, fearful look—like a deer ready to lope off at any moment—looked almost exactly like Hong.

“I feel unsettled,” he said, “but I don’t understand why.”

That certainly was unlike Wenshu. He was logical if nothing else, and did nothing if there wasn’t a reason for it. He had never been prone to random anxiety. That sounded more like Hong, who had always been running for his life. Maybe some of his instincts remained in his body and not just his brain.

“Do you see something?” I said.

“No, that’s the problem,” he said. “I can’t explain it, but I feel as if we’re being followed.”

“Then let’s go,” I said, grabbing his wrist. If Hong thought we should flee, I wouldn’t question it.

The rain began to pick up, destroying any hope of hearing footsteps behind us and obscuring the whole street in murky gray. If we were being followed, I didn’t want to lead them right back to where we slept, so we took a winding path around the city, the rain quickly soaking us through.

“Do you still feel it?” I said, my teeth chattering from the cold rain.

Wenshu only nodded, his face pale. I was starting to worry he was going to collapse again soon, and I’d be left defending his limp body from an unknown assailant.

I yanked him into an alley, tucking us both under an alcove at the back door of a restaurant beside a pile of compost.

Why are you running?I asked myself, the thought sharper than the burst of cold rain that gushed down from the gutters onto my head.You are the Scarlet Alchemist.

But was I really? I thought of the way Hong had looked at me, like he no longer believed I could truly bring him back.

Wet footsteps approached the mouth of the alley, then drew to a stop. My heartbeat hammered through my bones, and the shame I felt at my fear was more harrowing than the fear itself.

Get up, Zilan, my father’s voice said. But I couldn’t move, shivering hard beside the pile of rotting fruit.

Maybe the Silver Alchemist had somehow survived and caught up to us. Or maybe it was just another one of the Empress’s puppets come to drag me back to Chang’an in chains so I could hang from the gates.

To my horror, Wenshu rose to his feet.

I yanked his sleeve, but he pulled away, heading straight for the stranger.