Hands grabbed me by the shoulders. “Kai!”
Yún. I nearly fell over in relief. “Yún, what happened?”
“Where were you?” she demanded, ignoring my question. “You left. You didn’t even—”
“You were asleep. I went to buy—”
“You should have said something. I thought you—”
A bone-rattling shriek interrupted her. Yao-guài again. Yún threw an angry hiss at me and plunged into the mob. I shouted at her to stop, but she ignored me. Cursing, I shoved my way after her. There was a tense, panicked air to everyone we passed—tough old men, even tougher old women, stout men sweating in spite of the chill. Only as we got closer did I understand. The air was alight with a strange white glow, and a stream of electric sparks arced overhead.
Finally, one after the other, we staggered clear—and nearly turned around again.
A dozen royal soldiers stood before our stall, swords drawn. Their faces were stiff and blank, but the way they gripped their weapons, all white-knuckled and furious, plainly said they were scared.
What in the name of the heaven’s king was going on?
A man shouted from inside. At once, a chorus of chants rolled through the air—voices timed precisely in pitch and strength. Magic workers, chanting a spell of exorcism and containment. Yún and I exchanged glances, our argument forgotten. Behind us, the crowd muttered.
Chen? I whispered.
Your little monster lost its temper, he said.
The stall door opened. The crowd went silent.
Two soldiers emerged from the stall, a limp body slung between them: A man, barely covered by his scorched and ragged clothing. His bloody head lolled to one side. His eyes were wide, rimmed with white, like a ghost’s, and staring at nothing at all. Dead? My heart froze inside my chest. Then the man’s eyelids slowly sank shut, and I found I could breathe again.
The men staggered away in the direction of the palace quadrant. They didn’t have to say anything. The crowd opened a lane for their passage at once. An old woman made a warding sign. Others clutched their robes close, as if a mere touch could scorch them, too. The lane closed after the soldiers, and muttering welled up, louder than before.
“. . . magic blasting everywhere . . .”
“. . . guards and wizards . . .”
“. . . man almost dead . . .”
“. . . that monster savaged him . . .”
Without waiting to hear more, Yún stalked toward the door. One of the soldiers grabbed her arm. She bared her teeth and growled. The man snatched away his hand and recoiled. Seeing my chance, I ran after her and slid through the half-open stall door.
And nearly ran smack into three wizards just inside.
They stood with their backs to us, palms lifted upward as they chanted in low rhythmic voices. Our pony huddled against the opposite wall. Yao-guài crouched in the middle of the stall, surrounded by our scattered gear. His wings were spread wide and stiff. All his feathers stood on end, like spikes. His eyes glittered with fury and magic.
“What happened?” Yún demanded.
All three wizards spun around. “What are you doing here? Get out before that monster—”
“That ‘monster’ belongs to us. He was protecting our belongings and our pony. Anyone with two good eyes could see that.”
She glared at the wizards. The oldest of the three wizards folded his arms and glared back. “We are responsible for keeping peace within the kingdom,” he said evenly. “Your little monster is clearly dangerous. Do you have a permit for importing magical beasts into our jurisdiction?”
“Legal talk.” Yún spat on the ground.
The man’s lips tightened into a satisfied smile. “Which means you do not. I need you and your companion to come with us to the palace for questioning.”
“Us?” My voice squeaked up. “We didn’t do anything—”
“You imported a dangerous creature. You did not notify the authorities of its presence. And whatever the provocation, your monster attacked and almost killed a man. You will come with us for questioning.”