Fox and Phoenix (Lóng City 1)

I paused, thinking I’d heard a soft exhalation from Yún, but she didn’t stir.

Keep going, I told myself. Half a spell can wreck things. “So,” I said. “So I did everything wrong. You’re my best friend. You’re someone I trust and need and want. And not just as my friend. I . . . I do care, Yún. Very much. And it scares me.”

Dead silence outside. Inside, my pulse thundered in my ears.

(She hates me.)

(She’s laughing at me.)

Silence was the most eloquent answer the poets always said. I guess I got mine.

I was about to creep away, when Yún reached up to touch my cheek. “Kai. Don’t go.”

My heart seemed to stop. For a moment, neither of us spoke, neither moved. All I could think was how soft and warm her hands were and why had I spent so many months shoving her away when I all wanted was to hold her tight against me. Then Yún shooed away a protesting griffin, and I was sliding down to press my body against hers. Our mouths fumbled around before we matched up into a long, hard, tooth-clicking kiss.

The taste of honey, the warmth of fire, the zing of magic.

“I love you,” I whispered.

(Was that really you?)

(Yeah, me.)

(Say it again. Before she thinks you were lying.)

“Yún, I—”

The outer door crashed open. The next moment, Quan was shouting for us to grab everything now, now, now! Lian had already snatched up her blanket and was stuffing it into her pack. Yún shoved me away and buttoned up her shirt. The griffin launched himself into a flurry of dust and feathers and high-pitched screeches.

“Can you quiet him?” Lian asked. The moon had risen high enough that its light flooded our room. Her hands were shaking. Her eyes bright and wide with terror.

“The emperor’s soldiers?” I asked, breathless.

“Hundreds,” Quan said. “Soldiers, mages, and trackers.” He scooped the pots into his pack. Kicked dirt over our dead fire. It wasn’t enough, I knew. Not if trackers made any search of this village. But it was the same kind of panicked thoroughness that drove all of us to pick up every bit of gear or clothing, even as Yún tried to capture the frightened griffin.

She snatched at him blindly and captured one leg. Yao-guài screeched even louder and raked her with his claws. Yún let go with a yelp. Yao-guài zoomed through the window and vanished in a glitter of magic.

“Yún.” I dropped to my knees next to her.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t.” I ripped a length of cloth from my shirt and bound it around her bleeding arm. “You need washing and a healing. Can you manage until we reach a safer place?”

Her gaze swept up to meet mine. “Of course.”

“Hurry,” Quan hissed.

We grabbed our packs and ran. The soldiers came from the direction of Phoenix City, Lian told us. She and Quan had detected the first questings from the mages, then heard the tramping of many, many horses. But we had to assume they’d sent out sweepers and trackers in a great circle.

“How did they track us?” Yún whispered. “The smugglers?”

“Not Feng,” Quan said shortly. “Maybe you were followed.”

“No,” Lian said. “That’s impossible. We—”

She stopped. “Yún. Kai. Your medallions.”

Of course. Those medallions came from the emperor’s wizards.