The Immortal Words (The Grave Kingdom), стр. 8

Bingmei backed away, feeling the limb creak. Then crack.

A loud cracking sound that rivaled the lion’s roar.

Invoking the cricket’s magic, Bingmei sprang straight up as the branch and lion went crashing down to the ground.

As her body collided with the upper branches of the meiwood tree, she tried to grab one of them and missed. The pull of the earth yanked her back down, but as she plummeted through the branches, she managed to hook her arm around one. The wood dug into her arm painfully, and she hung there, her legs dangling. The lion that had crashed below had already risen, shaking its head and snarling with agitation.

Most of the others had scattered, but one of them leaped at Bingmei, trying to grab her flailing legs. She pulled them up just in time. If one of the claws had hooked her boot, the beast would have dragged her down easily. Her heart skittered in her chest, and her muscles began to ache from the effort of hanging on. She slipped the short sword into her belt to free her other hand.

“Grab the rope!”

She heard him before she saw it—the end of one of Quion’s ropes lowering down to her. She reached for it, shoulders flexing painfully, and gripped the end. Before the lion could leap at her again, she felt a tug from the rope. She let go of the branch, twisting slowly on the line as Quion pulled her up.

Soon, they were on nearby branches attached to the same trunk, breathing fast and hard as they watched the remaining lions saunter away. Wood from the shattered branch lay beneath them like shrapnel.

“Thank you,” she breathed with a sigh.

Quion shrugged. “Thank you. It would have gotten me if you hadn’t come.”

Now that the immediate threat was over, she leaned back against the trunk, wondering how they were going to escape the lions. “Clearly Echion doesn’t want anyone trespassing.”

“He should have left a warning.”

Bingmei chuckled. “He doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who would do that. Once you’ve come too close, you get devoured. That’s your only warning.”

“What are we going to do?” Quion asked quietly. “We can’t stay up here.”

“I don’t know,” she whispered back, slowing her breathing. The lions had gone back to the pond but had stayed close enough to reach them in a few bounds. Some began settling down for a nap. The largest one lay facing them, its yellow eyes watching their tree for a moment before it started licking its wounded hide.

Once again, Bingmei’s eyes were drawn to the glowing glyph beneath the rippling waters of the pond. What purpose did the glyph serve amidst such a grove of trees?

She wanted to examine it, but she wasn’t ready to battle the lions again. Instead, she and Quion shared a little food from their packs and watched and waited to see if the lions would leave to hunt something else. Hours passed like that, bringing them closer to nightfall. Still the lions did not leave.

A sweet trilling pierced the air, and the little siskin finch fluttered up to them. It landed on the branch and chirped.

“It’s back,” Quion said. He reached out his finger for it, but the bird hopped farther away. It was a jittery little thing. It chirped again and again, as if trying to talk to them.

Moments later, the lions rose as one, all of them looking off in the same direction. The lead lion, the one that had climbed the tree, left first, and the rest followed. Something had spooked the beasts.

“Why did they go?” Quion wondered in a half whisper.

“They’re pack animals,” she said. “Something startled them.” Bingmei shifted her weight to lean forward, staring down in the failing light.

“A dragon?” His voice thickened with worry.

She hadn’t felt one approach. There was nothing save the noisy chirping of the siskin.

Finally, she saw it—a glowing beast cutting through the woods toward the tree.

“Quion, look!”

His breath hissed and stopped.

It was a snow leopard. The fur was silver and shone like moonlight in the approaching dusk. The long spotted tail swished as it approached their tree. When it arrived, it stretched its neck up to look at them.

“It’s her,” Quion whispered in awe. “She found us.”

“She’s glowing,” Bingmei said, her heart worrying. Quion smelled like savory fish. His fear had vanished immediately upon seeing it.

“I know it’s her,” Quion said. “And the siskin came back too. Come on. Let’s go down.”

“It could attack us,” Bingmei said worriedly.

“She won’t. She drove off the lions, even though they’re bigger. I’m going down.”

“Don’t be hasty,” she said, seizing his arm.

“I’m not, Bingmei. I know that leopard. It’s her.”

She was incredulous at first. Quion had lost his “pet” after he’d left Sihui to join the other members of their ensign in a rescue mission to find Bingmei. “How did it get over the Death Wall?”

He shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Come on.” She let him go, still anxious about the animal’s otherworldly appearance. As Quion climbed down the tree, one branch at a time, the leopard seemed to get excited. But was it excited to see an old friend or to get an easy meal?

“Quion,” she warned.

“It’s all right, Bingmei,” he called, nearly to the bottom now.

She bit her lip, watching with dread as he dropped down the final distance. He knelt by the snow leopard and ruffled its fur with his hand.

It licked his face.

Bingmei couldn’t believe it. She rubbed the meiwood cricket and jumped down, landing in a low stance so she could jump into the air again if the beast lunged at her. The snow leopard gave her a lazy look. She did not understand why it was glowing, but she saw Quion’s hand in its fur and could tell it was a living thing, not some apparition.

Looking around, she saw the lions had gathered on the other side of the pond, fearful.

“I’m glad you found us, girl,” Quion said, speaking to the leopard. He smelled giddy and