Fox and Phoenix (Lóng City 1)

“Can you convey us into the palace by tonight?”

He whistled. “Tonight?”

“As discreetly as possible,” Lian said.

The smirk faded. Danzu plainly was struggling between the honest answer and one that made him look good. “I, ah . . . no. I can’t,” he said. “Lóng City, yes. Maybe. Not the palace. However, I do know someone who knows someone else who certainly can.”

Hü. Sure. It was the old days all over again, with Danzu bragging about his so-called connections. I scowled. “Don’t listen to him, Lian. He’s not—”

Yún jabbed me with an elbow. “Shi,” she whispered. “We can trust him.”

Grumbling, I rubbed my sore ribs. Lian smiled smoothly to me, then to Danzu. “Very well. I place myself in your hands. Please do not disappoint me.”

HER WORDS MUST have frightened Danzu more than Yún or I ever could. He dashed off, leaving us to devour every speck of the magnificent breakfast. Servants reappeared with a second course of sweet cakes and more tea. We were finishing that off when Danzu came galloping back in.

“I’ve arranged everything,” he told Lian. “We will reach Lóng City by darkfall. I guarantee it. Whether I can smuggle you inside the palace depends on my client and her friend, er, friends—”

“Which clients?” Lian asked.

Danzu hesitated. “I’d rather not say yet. But you can trust them, your Highness. I swear it.”

“He’s right,” Yún said.

That seemed to surprise Lian. She stared hard at Yún, who shrugged.

“What about the blizzard?” Quan said.

“I, ah, have some magical spells in reserve,” Danzu said. “Tricks from my uncle.”

More bragging. Well, Lian would find out soon enough if he was lying.

In the stables, two large covered wagons stood in the middle of the floor, surrounded by a dozen servants who were busy offloading crates, unpacking them, and transferring items wrapped in brown paper into reed baskets. Danzu waded into the chaos, shouting orders to transport those baskets carefully, carefully now, to the inn’s storage rooms.

“You trust this innkeeper with your special consignment ?” I asked him as he passed by me.

“He’s good enough,” Danzu said in an undertone. “Besides, I’m not leaving everything behind.”

He evicted the last of the stablehands and servants from the stables. A few men remained behind—the wagon drivers and two leathery-faced guards with ugly-looking weapons sticking out of their belts and boots. They hoisted the empty crates back onto the two wagons. Quan and Lian climbed into one wagon, each into a separate crate. Yún and I went into the second wagon, with the griffin stuffed into my shirt. Danzu’s men handed us packets of cooked beef and dried apricots, a flask of hot butter tea and another of plain water. Then they packed fresh straw around us and wrapped the crates in thick blankets. Danzu had thought of everything.

Finally, the men closed up the crates and hammered the lids in place.

My stomach fluttered for no particular reason. We escaped the emperor’s palace, I told myself. We got away from his soldiers and trackers. We traveled the spirit roads and lived through a blizzard. All we have to do is get inside the Lóng City palace.

Now came the final preparations—men leading horses from the stables, heavy footsteps tramping over the stone floor, a jingling as the drivers harnessed their beasts, and at last a penetrating creak as the stable’s outer doors opened. One of the drivers cursed the cold. Another one laughed and predicted how soon they would all have a drink of hot brewed ale in Lóng City’s best taverns.

Danzu gave a shout. Magic flux streamed through the air. My chest went tight and the world shrank. Then a short sharp snap traveled through me. Warmth rolled through my crate, carrying with it an electric scent, mixed with the rich smell of crushed herbs. Magic. Magic keyed to a few words that any fool could unlock.

Ai-ya. Some trick, I thought.

And you didn’t believe him.

Chen, softly chuckling.

The wagon jerked forward, throwing me against the crate’s side. Yao-guài chattered angrily. Stroking the griffin’s feathers, I yawned. The blankets and straw were like a cocoon a

round me. The unnatural warmth from Danzu’s spell made me sleepier than ever. My eyelids sagged shut. It had been a long day.

Sleep, young one, said a familiar gruff voice.