The Immortal Words (The Grave Kingdom), стр. 88
She soared higher to see if the others needed help. Mieshi and Zhuyi moved like lightning, unable to be boxed in. And Marenqo, valiant Marenqo, every time he swung the spear, men toppled over at his strength. The soldiers seemed to keep coming, though, and Bingmei rose higher to determine why. There was a sea of Qiangdao entering the courtyard from either side of the Hall of Unity, pushing one another in their eagerness to join the fight. But why? She lifted higher, looking for an explanation, and gasped when she saw them.
Soldiers were spilling in from the main gates, and she saw a dozen battle flags coming—Sihui, Tuqiao, and Sajinau. General Tzu’s army! The Qiangdao were swarming the courtyard because they were trying to flee them. She wondered what had happened to the dragons, but she didn’t care.
An arrow swept right by her, and she turned in midair, seeing the archers along the walls preparing to defend the palace. Bingmei flew at them, striking them down, one by one, as she went down the line. Some of them risked jumping off the wall in their haste to escape her.
A deafening screech filled the air. Rowen had transformed back into a phoenix again, and she watched his fiery amber plumage as he lunged into the ranks of soldiers. The Qiangdao were terrified by the majestic bird, and suddenly all the birds of the palace joined the fray once again. Bingmei grinned, feeling the scales tilt toward victory already. She swooped higher, watching as the armies collided in the outer courtyard.
Bingmei soared down to scatter another group of Qiangdao, and realized they had begun to retreat—only there was nowhere for them to go in the morass of men and the dead. Zhuyi and Mieshi continued to drive them back, along with Marenqo and his terrible spear.
Phoenix Rowen lifted up, his wings spread wide, both terrible and beautiful. As he did so, glyphs glowed to life in the painted meiwood pillars of the palace.
The air sizzled with magic and the stench of burning metal. All the remaining Qiangdao turned to flee, crying out in panic and despair. Bingmei looked at Rowen in awe, impressed at the power he commanded.
He had truly claimed Fusang.
Bingmei’s heart soared with the thrill of victory. Then she noticed the Qiangdao were no longer fighting. Most had thrown down their weapons and knelt, begging for their lives, only to be thrust through with bladed spears. They smelled of defeat, of shame, of hopelessness—a heart-wrenching scent that reminded her of the soldiers of Sajinau as they were decimated by Echion’s army.
Her heart plummeted within her chest. She sensed the Qiangdao weren’t expecting to live. They anticipated death, knowing what they had done to other armies they’d defeated. Theirs was the despair of the dying. They deserved death. They had done horrible things since coming from the mountains. Yet still she felt compassion for them, compassion that had stirred to life when Muxidi, the man who’d slain her parents and grandfather, had begged her to forgive him.
She wanted to stop the violence. Bingmei turned her head, seeing the majestic phoenix Rowen looming above the Hall of Memory. As she looked into the bird’s eyes, she felt her connection to him grow, felt a sharing of hearts and minds.
The phoenix let out another earsplitting screech, and the glyphs on the meiwood pillars dimmed, the magic draining from them. The air still smelled of the tang of burnt metal.
The phoenix soared over the ranks of Qiangdao, who rippled with fear and cringed as the great shadow passed over them. Bingmei followed in Rowen’s wake and, searching the crowd of soldiers from Sihui, found the helmet and armor of King Zhumu. General Tzu stood nearby and so did Liekou, who was surrounded by fallen enemies.
The Qiangdao had gathered closely together, like so many fish tangled in a net. As the phoenix swooped down, Rowen transformed back into his human form and landed in front of Zhumu and Tzu. The general stared at Rowen in wonder, although the expression quickly faded. Bingmei landed as well, coming in at his side as they advanced together.
“What is the meaning of this?” General Tzu said. His emotions were charged, intent on killing all the Qiangdao they’d captured. She could smell his desire for revenge.
Rowen walked confidently, even though he was blind. “General Tzu,” he said. “We have defeated Echion’s forces. The battle is over.”
General Tzu scowled. “Prince Rowen, but the war is not over. There are armies still throughout the kingdoms. We will need all our force if we are to reclaim them. We can’t leave a defeated army in the field. Echion slaughtered our people. These people must be destroyed in kind.”
Bingmei felt another surge of compassion, this one even stronger. “No, General,” she said. “We will spare them.”
King Zhumu’s expression was dark with concern. “They would not have spared us,” he said succinctly.
Rowen turned his face toward Zhumu. “The season of the Dragon of Night has come to an end. It has been a long season, not of snow and darkness but of war. There is a better way. My father, King Shulian, knew it. I thought he was wrong, but he was not. The cycle of death ends here. The shadow that stretched across the sun was a sign that a new era is upon us.