Chapter 18

A loud gong sounded thrice across the entire airship yard, signaling the end of the second test. All the candidates shimmied down from their respective airships, some looking quite shaken and green in the face. They hurried and stumbled back to the gathering point, where the guild masters were already waiting.

Ying took her place in the line, her face still flushed from exertion. She raised her hand and wiped her leaky nose, trying not to think about the throbbing burns on her palms or the sores that had formed on her reddened fingers.

Everyone seemed to have landed safely, but did that mean that everyone had successfully passed the test? Chang-en's team had managed to repair their faulty sail mechanism after Ying and her crew helped them stabilize the ship. Technically they had managed to fulfill the task requirements.

"Enough chatter!" Master Gerel commanded, clapping his hands several times to get the candidates' attention. "The second test has come to an end. The guild masters will now convene to deliberate. After we have arrived at a conclusion, we will announce the names of the candidates who have qualified for the final test. Those of you who do not make it will have to leave the guild by tomorrow morning."

The master turned toward the airships and hollered a command, following which two senior airship engineers stepped off each ship.

"Were they on board with us all this while?" Ye-kan exclaimed.

"Of course," Chang-en replied. "Did you actually believe that the guild would let us die? That would have been the scandal of the year."

"Then why didn't they show up earlier? We almost died up there!"

Ying was equally astonished by this discovery. They had never been in danger of actual death throughout the trial. The senior engineers would have stepped in to rescue them if it looked like they were about to fail. To think she had put herself and her team through that harrowing experience, believing that she was a hero.

In the end, she was only a fool.

A hand landed on her shoulder and her head jolted up. To her surprise, it was An-xi standing behind her.

A lump of regret and guilt rose up her throat. "I'm sorry," she said.

But An-xi shook his head. "You didn't do anything wrong. You were absolutely right about one thing—that we can't just stand by and watch our friends die. For the record, I don't have a heart made of stone, despite what all of you might think. See that you remember that, Aihui Min."

A rare smile appeared on his weary face for the briefest of moments, then he turned and walked away.

The tension among the young hopefuls reached a peak when the guild masters finally returned from their deliberation. All eyes fell upon the roll of parchment in Gerel's hand.

"The guild masters have completed our evaluation. Twenty candidates have been identified to proceed to the final test." Gerel handed the parchment to a senior apprentice. "The decision is final, no appeals allowed. Those whose names are not on the board are to head back to clear your belongings immediately. The rest of you will resume lessons tomorrow."

With a wave of his hand he dismissed the assembly, and the masters turned to leave. The flock of young men sped toward the wooden board that had been set up by the side, where the senior apprentice was now plastering the list of fortunate names.

Ying trailed a distance behind the others, hesitant to unveil her fate. But she didn't have to do it for herself, because a shrill voice rang out the answer before the list came within her view.

"I made it!" An-xi was shouting, his usual smug arrogance returning to him.

"We did too," Chang-en said, slapping Ye-kan on the back. The grouchy prince glowered, then turned and met Ying's gaze.

"You're in top place," Ye-kan mumbled, pointing at the first name on the list. It was the first thing he had said to her since their workshop break-in, and given how he had unconditionally trusted her judgment during the airship crisis, it seemed that their quarrel might finally be water under the bridge. The relief that the silent treatment was over struck Ying much more strongly than she had expected. Somewhere along the way, Ye-kan had become someone she valued in her life.

Ying slowly inched her way through the mass of jostling bodies until she could see the parchment for herself. Twenty names were written neatly in black ink—and this time, the name "Aihui Min" was not bringing up the rear, but sitting right at the top.

It was true. She was first. But why?

Shouts of protest had arisen from some of the other candidates, and the loudest voices came from Arban's group, who ranked beneath Ying's even though they had been the first ship to successfully mend their fault and land. Words like "favoritism" and "rigged" were being bandied around, and Arban's expression matched the shade of the airships' ballonets.

Ying spotted Master Kyzo lurking around chewing haw candy, observing the candidates' reactions with a bemused glint in his eyes. She ran over.

"Master Kyzo," she said. "Why am I in first place? Arban's team finished faster than we did." If anything, she should have been penalized for being foolhardy and putting her teammates at risk.

"Let me ask you something first," Kyzo said, still chewing nonchalantly. "Why did you decide to help that other ship, even though your team had already completed your task? You could have left them to flounder, removed some of your competition."

"I…I couldn't. I thought they were going to die," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper. She could still feel the panic gripping her heart when she heard Ye-kan's voice screaming for help, when she saw the dark clouds of smoke billowing from the ship and the way its ballonet almost detached from the hull entirely.

Kyzo nodded, rubbing his chin with his free hand while his mechanical one rotated his candy stick.

"And that's why all the senior engineers and the guild masters unanimously voted for you to come in first place, even Gerel. This is the trial of the heart, child. The engineers on board were not merely there to swoop in to save your asses, they were also there to observe each one of you, how you worked together, how you worked for one another. Even though you didn't have to, and despite the initial protests from your own team members, you managed to rally them to your cause. If this had been an actual war, what you did would have saved an entire airship's worth of lives."

He patted her on the shoulder.

"By the way, you didn't follow the engine construction manual in the Annals, eh?"

Ying blinked, recalling how she had gone against An-xi's recommendation when slotting in the final gears.

"I like a maverick. Your engine was an even better version than the ones we have! It allowed for a marginally faster rotation of the axles connecting to the propellers, which meant that the airship could have an increased maximum speed. But you were lucky. Had the airship been allowed to operate for a longer period, it would overheat. Our existing propellers aren't built to withstand that level of rotation. I'll have to get my team to look into that," Kyzo explained. "You have the makings of a guild master, Aihui Min. Your father would have been very proud." Then he gave her a hard smack on the back, sending her lurching forward. "Now get your ass back to the guild and stop doubting our decision."

Taking another bite off his haw stick, Kyzo chuckled and went on his way, his merry laughter reverberating in the air.

Ying watched as the stout master trudged off, still trying to comprehend what she had been told.

The makings of a guild master?

She shifted her gaze toward her team's airship, now sitting ruefully at its berth. The dying cinder inside her was flickering to life once again, reignited by the words of promise that Kyzo had gifted her.

For the first time in her life, she understood the risks of becoming an engineer—as well as the potential. Being a member of the guild was not merely a shiny badge of honor, but an acceptance of the perils that came along with it. Beyond these trials, there would be no senior engineers waiting in the wings to rescue them if they failed. Beyond these trials, the threat of death would be real.

I have to become better.

She had to work hard enough to be worthy of the praise she had been given, of the trust that her friends had placed in her, and of the responsibility that came with being a full-fledged engineer. But could she do it? Did this life truly belong to her? Her father's death remained unsolved, assassins constantly lurking in the shadows—and there was still her family, no doubt expecting her to return to Huarin to lead the life everyone expected her to.

"The banners are back! The banners are back!" someone was shouting across the shipyard, distracting the candidates from their momentary distress.

"The banners are back?" Ying murmured. She stood on her tiptoes and glimpsed the engineer who had just run in through the gates of the shipyard, waving his hand excitedly in the air as he announced the news. A small crowd gathered around him, eager to hear the latest gossip in town.

The banners were back—and if the bannermen had returned to the capital, that could only mean one thing. That Ye-yang was back too.

The streets of Fei thronged with excited citizens, eager to catch sight of the victorious bannermen and the beiles. In the span of an afternoon, the news of the banners' success had spread across the entire capital like wildfire. Defeating the Great Jade Empire, even in one small battle, was no mean feat.

The fourth beile and a handful of his bannermen had disguised themselves as merchants and infiltrated the city of Fu-li—one of the main sentries on the border of the Empire. While inside, they secretly bought over the services of many Empire soldiers, including some of the generals guarding the city. At the same time, they spread rumors within the marketplace, distracting the city's officials with promises of riches and gold so they paid little attention to the security of the city walls, allowing Erden and Ye-han's men to approach without anyone noticing. At the pivotal moment, in the depths of the night, Ye-yang and his men swarmed the Fu-li city gates from within the city, cutting down the enemy soldiers with ease and forcing the rest to swear fealty to the Cobra's Order. Had they been discovered any earlier, they would have been isolated behind enemy lines with no means of escape.

This was the first time the Antaran High Command had gone on the offensive against the Empire, and with that, the two sides would officially be at war.

Ying could not confess to understanding why the High Commander was so insistent on pursuing this military campaign. The Seven Grievances that the High Command had plastered on noticeboards all over the city had not convinced her of its necessity. Even if the Empire was exploiting the Antaran territories to some degree, was peace not a better option than provoking a sleeping giant and sending one's own sons to the battlefield? She was sitting by the window on the second floor of the Silver Spoon, peering at the street down below, at the crowd that was waiting eagerly for the victorious troops to parade by.

"One day I'm going to be marching with them," Chang-en proclaimed.

"You're an engineer. You're never going to be marching with the bannermen," An-xi said. "Why would you want to anyway unless you have a death wish? For every man that gets to the victory march, nine others die in an unmarked grave."

There were only three of them sitting in the private dining space that belonged to Chang-en's family. The food was as stellar as she remembered, but the room felt a lot emptier now that there were only the few of them remaining.

"I can still be an accompanying weapons engineer, even if I need to ride on a horse-drawn night soil wagon at the back of the contingent. Weaponry is the most prestigious division of the guild, why would you want to be posted anywhere else?"

"If you love weapons so much, then suit yourself." An-xi sniffed. "I prefer architecture and construction. Imagine being the one in charge of building the new palace! The kind of legacy you'll leave behind!"

Surviving the apprenticeship trial and entering the guild wasn't the end of the rat race. Once you were through the doors, apprentices fought tooth and nail for the right to join one of the many guild divisions, of which weapons engineering was by far the most highly sought after, if only because it received the most funding and recognition from the High Command. There were many other divisions that were equally important, which created and maintained structures that helped keep the nine isles running and the people fed and clothed, yet those were often considered secondary to Weaponry.

Ying guessed that her father must have belonged to Weaponry, but she was hesitant about following in those footsteps. There was much about war and weaponry that frightened and discomfited her. There were many other guild divisions that appealed more, like Transportation, which Master Kyzo belonged to, working on the airships and other vehicular designs, or maybe even the elusive Black Ops unit, which worked on cutting-edge innovations—though those sometimes blurred ethical lines, such as the grotesque chimeras.

But this might all be wishful thinking. She might not be able to remain in Fei long enough to be able to choose a guild division. Surviving the trial was one matter, surviving her father's killer was another.

While her two companions continued bickering about which divisions were superior, Ying stared out the window in a daze as she waited for the entourage to appear. She sat up when a sudden cacophony of cheering and hooting erupted down below.

The rows of bannermen had turned the corner. They were making their way down the far end of the street. The solemn pounding of horse hooves on the cobblestones resonated in the air, cutting through the cheers like lightning through the dense clouds. At the head of the pack, a lone figure rode atop his black steed, back stiff and proud like an obsidian god of war.

The weight lifted off Ying's shoulders. He was back, like he said he would be.

Ye-yang was the center of attention of today's military parade, the Plain White Banner colors flying ahead of the others. The other beiles rode a few steps behind, relegated to mere supporting characters in this display. Erden, in particular, seemed unable to disguise his displeasure at this new hierarchy, but he reluctantly held his position. Ye-yang's steely gaze was fixed on the path ahead, unwavering despite the deafening roar of the crowd.

"Looks like the fourth beile's star is rising," Chang-en said. "Maybe he'll become the heir apparent. The position has been vacant for a while now."

"It's not our place to discuss matters like succession," An-xi said tersely, eyeing the walls. "Such talk could be considered treason."

"As if anyone cares about what we say. If I was born an Aogiya, maybe I'd be at the head of that army."

"If you were an Aogiya, there'd be one more of them in the Juwan mines."

Leaning her chin on the windowsill, Ying watched as the contingent approached the Silver Spoon. Just as Ye-yang's black stallion passed by the entrance to the restaurant, he tilted his head upward. When their eyes met, the hardness in his gaze faltered momentarily, before the stony fa?ade was raised once again. He turned back to face the road before him, continuing the march to the High Commander's manor.

After the bannermen and the exhilaration of the moment had passed, Ying and the others settled back down to finish the meal that had gone cold on the table. She picked absentmindedly at the rice in her bowl, as if her soul had left along with the contingent.

"I heard there'll be a huge victory banquet in a few days' time, after the other clansmen arrive in Fei. They'll be rewarded handsomely for throwing their weight behind this campaign," An-xi said. "There were some clans who dared use excuses to turn down the High Commander's request for backup. Bet they'll be pissing themselves now." He looked up at Ying, who hadn't heard a single word he said. "Min, your brother should be coming on behalf of your clan—isn't that right?"

"Huh?" Ying blinked, staring blankly at An-xi.

"Isn't your brother the new chieftain of the Aihui clan? I heard he threw in his lot with the Ula clan and pledged a good number of clansmen for the battle of Fu-li. He made a smart gamble."

"He did what?"

The other two launched into a heated discussion about Antaran clan politics, shooting casual barbs at one another whenever they had the chance, but Ying was too stunned by what An-xi had just divulged to pay any attention.

Wen was coming to Fei?

News of her brother's imminent arrival rattled Ying to the core. It had never occurred to her that anyone from her clan would ever make the journey to the capital. It was unheard of. Huarin was too far removed for the journey to be worthwhile—or perhaps that was something that her father had made them believe because he didn't want to associate with the capital. Evidently Wen had chosen a different path, and as the Aihui clan's new chieftain, he had already made decisions that went against everything their father had believed.

"What is he trying to play at?" Ying grumbled, slapping the surface of the bathwater. The steam that filled the room helped soothe her muscles but did nothing to ease the agitation in her mind.

Her brother had a chip on his shoulder, she knew that, but did he really have to go out of his way to prove a point?

Their clan had been dwindling in numbers for years, with many choosing to switch allegiances to wealthier, more progressive clans in hopes of securing a better future for themselves. When their father was alive, he had sent these clansmen on their way with his sincere blessings. "Everyone is entitled to choose their own path in life," he used to say. Wen disagreed. Letting them go was an affront to the clan's honor and only set the clan farther down the path to ruin.

Yet her brother had chosen to send so many of their own to Fu-li, knowing that it could be death they were facing. It was a reckless irony. Any casualties—and Ying was certain there would be many—would be an even more severe blow to the Huarin population. If Wen himself had come to any harm, the Aihui clan would be thrown into turmoil. None of their younger brothers were of age to assume command, and there were uncles and cousins from the extended family who would tear the clan apart like a pack of hungry wolves.

She sank down into the tub so that her head was submerged in the water, letting the heat from the geothermal springs slowly expel the frustration from her bones.

At least they won, she tried telling herself. At least Wen was safe. Not just safe—his gamble had paid off spectacularly. From what the others had said, the Aihui clan had played a pivotal role in the siege of Fu-li. They would likely be rewarded handsomely for it.

"He must be laughing himself to sleep," she gurgled underwater, words escaping in a string of fitful bubbles.

Wait a minute—that should be the least of her concerns. She shot out of the water, the murkiness that had been clouding her mind suddenly swept aside. The danger of Fu-li had passed, but the danger facing her was fast approaching. Her a-ge was coming to Fei. It would be disastrous if he found her here.

For however long her brother remained in the capital, she would have to tread on eggshells and make sure that she didn't accidentally appear before him. That was the easy part. What was challenging was making sure that no one breathed the name "Aihui Min" in front of Wen, else her cover would immediately be blown and she would be hauled back to Huarin having achieved nothing.

Her mind went off in tangents, sprouting idea after impossible idea to keep her brother at bay. Dragging herself out of the tub, she emptied out the used water and trudged over to the bamboo rack where she had hung her clothes.

Voices suddenly echoed from outside as heavy footsteps approached the bathing quarters. Shadows appeared through the rice paper of the latticed door panes. Ying yelped, grabbing her garments off the rack and diving behind the folding screen. Her long, wet hair was matted over her face, and the white cotton of her sloppily worn undergarment clung to her damp skin.

The door creaked open. She held her breath.

"The High Commander has set the celebratory banquet for three days' time," Nergui's ingratiating voice rang out. "Should we not be going back to the manor? I can get Tailor Wan to spin a few new robes for the occasion, befitting the biggest contributor to this spectacular victory."

"No, there's no need."

Ying itched to peep around the edge of the screen to catch a glimpse of the fourth beile, but she bit her lip and remained crouched. She couldn't go out now, not in this state of undress.

She hadn't expected Ye-yang to return straight to the Engineers Guild on the day of his arrival back in Fei. If she had known, she wouldn't have been possessed to take a bath at this hour.

"But, Beile-ye, the other clan chieftains will be attending the banquet, as will the noble families of Fei. There's word that the High Commander will be issuing the edict for your marriage. Surely a new set wouldn't hurt?"

Marriage edict?

Ying's fingers clutched on to the cotton fabric of her robes. Yes, of course Ye-yang should marry, sooner rather than later. She had noticed herself that the fourth beile's manor was uncharacteristically without a mistress, when most Antaran men would have at least one or two partners in their household by his age. Knowing that did nothing to lessen the bitter taste in her mouth.

Who would it be? Some daughter from one of the noble clans of Fei, princesses in all but name, or perhaps a girl from one of the bigger isles, from a rising clan whose support the High Command required.

She hated these unfamiliar pangs of jealousy that wormed their way inside her. She had tried many times to be more indifferent about things, to remind herself that her purpose in being here had nothing to do with Ye-yang—or who he would eventually marry—but she couldn't control those selfish emotions.

"If you really think a new set of clothes is necessary, Nergui, then by all means get it done. I trust you know my preferences. Why don't you ask the kitchen to prepare something for supper? It's been a tiring day."

"But who shall attend to you during your bath? I will get one of the guild attendants to fetch supper."

"No, you know my tastes better than them. Leave me, I don't need anyone here. Tell the attendants not to come in either. I want some time alone."

"Of course, Beile-ye," Nergui chirped.

Ying could almost see the delight oozing from every pore. It was as if Nergui's existence was validated purely by Ye-yang's acknowledgment.

She heard Nergui's eager footsteps retreat out of the room, the door quietly clicking shut behind him. The air stilled, and the dense clouds of condensing steam hung thick.

Her legs were slowly numbing, blood vessels constricted by the awkward hunched position she had put herself in.

Please leave, she begged.

Thick silk robes fell onto the bamboo rack with a soft thud. A fresh stream of water rushed against the base of the tub. Footsteps, and then a soft splash.

He wasn't leaving.

Time slowed to a trickle, the steady drip of water droplets from the tips of her wet hair counting down the seconds that painfully ticked by. Ying shifted uncomfortably and curled into a fetal position on her side, twirling her long, inky strands of hair around her fingers to distract from the thousands of imaginary ants crawling up and down her legs.

How long does this bath need to take?

"I wouldn't think it's very comfortable to be hiding back there, but if you feel otherwise, then I stand corrected."

Ying's blood curdled in her veins, the hairs on the back of her neck bristling. She slowly inched herself toward the edge of the screen, like a caterpillar creeping along the ground.

Ye-yang had his back to her, his usually braided hair cascading like a waterfall over the side of the wooden tub. His bare, lean arms were outstretched on both sides, resting comfortably along the rim of the tub.

"How did you even know I was here?" she asked. She sat herself up, but remained safely behind the screen so she wouldn't see anything.

"I could hear you breathing," Ye-yang replied. "And the droplets dripping from your hair when they hit the floorboards."

"But you couldn't have known it was me. What if it was an assassin?"

"A trained assassin wouldn't have been this careless." He pointed at the wet trail of footprints leading from the clothes rack to the wooden screen. "Neither would he have been using my bathtub." He shifted his hand back into a resting position. "It's been a while since I've had a proper bath. Since you're here, come over and give my back a scrub."

"What?" Ying spluttered at the thought. Blood rushed to her head, making her cheeks flame.

Ye-yang tilted his head in her direction. "Considering I sent Nergui and all the attendants away to help you hide your little intrusion, surely this is the least you could do?" he said.

"I can't! We're not— I mean, you and me, we're not exactly—"

"It's only a matter of time, Ying," Ye-yang replied softly.

The steam and quiet that filled the room coalesced around her, and Ying could hear nothing in that moment but the sound of her own pounding heart. Ye-yang had spoken plainly, so plainly that he hadn't left her any space to hide.

"Please," he spoke again, breaking the silence, "I took an arrow to the arm and can't really reach."

An arrow to the arm? He's injured?

Ying stood up and stepped out from behind the screen. She turned hesitantly toward Ye-yang, but the first thing she saw was the ugly web of crisscrossing scar tissue that lined his back. She took a few steps forward. She could identify wounds from the exploding lamp shards that had struck him on the night of the assassination attempt, the newly formed tissue still reddened but otherwise healed. But there were even fresher lesions that lined his back—ruthless cuts that congealed into gnarled ridges on an already blighted landscape of older, darkened scars. The arrow to his arm wasn't the only injury he had come home with.

Her heart ached to look at it.

Clutching the small towel in her hand, she raised it to his back and then paused, acutely aware of the almost neglible distance between them. Ye-yang said it was only a matter of time—but till what, exactly? Surely he knew that they would eventually have to part. She was not meant to be in his world. His earlier conversation with Nergui had been a harsh reminder of that—that the mistress of his household would not be her.

Maybe this is the most I can do for you.

Squeezing the cloth between her fingers, she wrung the warm water over his back.

"What happened in Fu-li?" she asked quietly.

The victory parade she had seen in the morning had just been a glossy veneer, a fa?ade to make people overlook the blood, sweat, and tears that had been spilled to justify that moment of glory. It was meant to make others forget about all the unlucky souls who would never be able to come home.

And even those who returned, like Ye-yang, would always bear the scars that reminded them of the atrocities they had witnessed—and committed.

"We caught the Empire by surprise, decimated their troops, and drove the stragglers out of the city. Their commanding generals perished and the city's governor fled. We seized over nine thousand horses, seven thousand sets of armor, and ten fully equipped airships. Some of the Empire's troops surrendered. They'll be drafted into the Eight Banners. For the first time, we now control one of the gateways to the Empire."

There was a detached manner in which Ye-yang was reciting the outcome of the Fu-li expedition. It made it seem as if he was reciting off a historian's record instead of recounting his own experience. As if the scars on his back weren't his at all.

Ying traced the angry, crooked line that seared down his back, her finger barely a hair's breadth away from his skin.

"Go ahead," he said. "It doesn't hurt. Not much anyway. I think the nerves on my back died a long time ago."

His careless tone wrenched at Ying's heart. She thought of herself, of her brothers, of all the young men she knew back in Huarin, and for the first time she felt she understood her father's decision to keep their clan withdrawn from the capital's politics.

"Is it worth it? This war we're fighting?" she asked. She gently scrubbed the unscathed areas of his skin with the cloth in her hand. As her fingertips brushed against his back, she tried to commit the touch to memory, knowing that this moment was unlikely to come again.

"Only if we win."

"But if we don't fight, then there's no winning or losing to be had. Isn't that a better option?"

Ye-yang turned to look at her, the corners of his lips tilting upward in a sad smile. He took her hand in his, rubbing his thumb over the ridges of her knuckles. "I wish I had your innocence, Ying," he said. "To be able to think the best of people, of this world that we live in."

"You mean my naivety."

Ying scowled. She knew that she had led a sheltered existence thanks to her father's careful protection, and that there were many complexities about the Antaran isles and the world at large that she hadn't yet recognized, but it didn't mean she knew nothing. Choosing peace was exactly that—a choice—despite knowing that it might put you at a disadvantage. That was what her a-ma had taught her. She tried to pull her hand away, but the prince held on tighter. He shook his head, a mirthful laugh escaping from his throat.

"No, that's not what I meant. I'm grateful for you being the way you are. You help…bring balance to my life. You remind me to constantly question why I'm doing the things I do, and whether or not there are better solutions to the ones we have chosen. When you're in a high position, such honesty is difficult to find."

She lifted her gaze and looked him in the eyes. "So have you found it? A better way to do whatever it is that the High Commander wants you to do? A solution that doesn't involve marching our people into war?"

Ye-yang set his lips in a line, looking thoughtful. After a short pause, he asked, "Do you know why the High Command uses the cobra as our emblem?"

Ying frowned, perplexed. "No," she admitted.

"Because the snake is the dragon's inferior. The dragon soars proudly in the sky, king of beasts, while the snake slithers on land, relegated to the shadows. The High Commander chose the cobra to represent the Antaran people, as a painful reminder of how the Empire and its emperor have lorded over the nine isles for centuries, forcing us to pay tribute in exchange for scraps of charity. We are not a weak people, but Abka Han has dealt us a weaker hand. We can be much more than what we are now, but we cannot remain bound to the nine isles."

There was a quiet determination in Ye-yang's voice, in the way his fists were clenched against the edge of the tub. Ying stared at the map of scars on his back, and through it she saw a reflection of his resolve. He agreed with the High Commander's actions, this war they were waging.

"But many will die," she said. Her a-ma had always been an advocate for peace, not war. He used to say that the world would be a better place for everyone if we could learn contentment, and use it to temper ambition. To him, the sacrifice of any man was one too many.

Perhaps that was why he left Fei. Left the guild.

But was he right to do that? What was the right thing to do? She didn't think she had the answer yet.

"If we don't fight, we are already dead. The nine isles are drying up, Ying. There is only so much that our barren land can provide." A pause. "If I don't fight, I might die sooner," he added.

Ye-yang returned her gaze, and in the misty gray Ying could see only pain and resignation—and it broke her heart. It made her yearn to protect him, to be that harbor from which he could hide from the storms—if only she could.

"It's okay, I'm used to it," he said kindly. "Let's not talk about these matters anymore. There's somewhere I want to show you later. Take it as a congratulatory present, for passing the second test."

"What is it?"

"Well, you'll just have to find out," Ye-yang replied with a mysterious wink.