The Immortal Words (The Grave Kingdom), стр. 86
Behind Echion’s shoulder, Bingmei saw Mieshi go down. Her heart panged in dread and fear. What could she do? She still held the Phoenix Blade, but it seemed so weak in comparison to Echion. He had centuries of fighting skill. He’d defeated the best warriors of the past. He’d defeated all her sisters.
The air around her went cold. A shadow fell across the courtyard.
Echion smelled startled and his expression betrayed the emotion. Gripping his spear, he turned around. The rich blue sky turned purple. Stars began to appear. The cold deepened.
“What is this trickery?” Echion gasped, looking up at the sky.
Bingmei saw the sun begin to blot out, as if some giant shield had slid over it.
A great chorus of crickets sounded, and the birds that had been fighting began to chirp and shriek as if it were sunrise again, their songs giddy and bright.
Bingmei was baffled by what she beheld. In a few moments, the sun was blotted out of the sky, leaving only a fiery ring around a sphere of blackness. It made her think of the carving from the future, the phoenix and the dragon battling around the orb. In a gush of understanding, she realized that it wasn’t an orb. It was the sun! Something had happened to the sun during their battle, and it would be crucial to their victory.
“The Reckoning,” Bingmei gasped, sitting up. “The reign of the Dragon of Night is over.” She didn’t think it was, but she’d learned from Xisi. Echion was not immune to trickery, and she hoped her words would terrify her nemesis.
Fear gushed from Echion like a punctured vat. “No! It cannot be! It cannot be!” He was paralyzed with fear, with dread, with the premonition of an impending doom so brutal and devastating that his very soul shrank in horror.
An eerie twilight fell over the courtyard. Everyone was staring up at the sky. Zhuyi was the last one, encircled totally by enemies, but the transcendent scene had commanded the attention of every single person in the courtyard. No one knew what was happening or why.
Strike hard, Bingmei. Strike his unfeeling heart.
She, too, had been caught up in the marvelous display. Noonday had literally turned into twilight. But it was time to act.
Echion gazed in horror at the ring of fire hanging in the sky, like some baleful eye judging him, condemning him.
Bingmei, crouching, gripped the hilt of the Phoenix Blade and sprang as she plunged it into Echion’s chest. The keen blade pierced his silk shirt, plunging into his heart.
Echion gasped with pain as he staggered back, the action freeing him from the sword. His pale hand clutched his chest, but it could not stem the blood. His face became grotesque in its expression of pain, dread, and anguish. It was a maelstrom of smells, each reeking and horrid. Bingmei covered her nose, backing away, the sword still in her hand.
Echion dropped to one knee as the spasms of his ruptured heart continued. He tried to speak, to curse her, but his lips could not form words. With his other hand, he tried to draw a glyph, but his arm rattled too violently for him to manage it. He clung to his life in desperation, trying to will himself to stay in the mortal world.
Bingmei stepped forward, feeling his hate, his dread. He knelt before her, blood flecking his lips. Standing over him, she drew the glyph of death on his forehead.
And then his eyes rolled back in his head and his smell, his abhorrent murderous smell, vanished as the trunk of his body slumped to the pavement.
“Aie!” screeched Xisi from the top of the stairs. It was a keening cry of devastation. Of despair. Of nonsense.
Xisi transformed into the pale dragon, breaking free of Rowen’s strong arms. The dragon launched down the steps, coming right at Bingmei, who brought up her blade to defend herself. But Xisi was still immortal. There was nothing Bingmei could do to stop her.
Even as that thought passed her mind, Rowen transformed before her eyes. Not into a dragon but into a phoenix, like the many she had seen in the ethereal realm of Fusang. The bird Rowen rushed down and clawed at Xisi’s back. The white dragon hissed and spurted a jet of gray foam, which splashed down on some of the ensign members, making them shriek in pain before dying. The two winged creatures thrashed at each other, but the phoenix was bigger than the dragon. Rowen grasped at her with his talons, slashing at her neck with his beak.
Another gout of freezing froth came, and Bingmei’s weakened wings unfurled, lifting her up and away. The misty ichor flooded the ground where Echion lay, and the corpse became as hard as stone, the pale skin turning gray.
She watched as the phoenix kept the dragon away from her. Despite Xisi’s rage and attempts to destroy her, the bird always interposed, slashing and biting and buffeting the dragon with his much larger wings.
As Bingmei hovered in the air, keeping her distance, her eyes were struck by blinding light. The shadow that had fallen over the courtyard began to lift. The sky brightened once more, the stars fading from view. What magic was this? She didn’t know, but soon the noise of crickets started to fade and the chattering birds began to quiet.
The dragon Xisi lifted its head toward the baleful sun and then broke free from the phoenix’s clutches and began to flap away frantically, soaring north, beating a hasty retreat.
Bingmei swept down and began attacking the remnants of Echion’s ensign, which still enclosed the solitary Zhuyi. The phoenix charged as well, grabbing one man in its claws