"I thought you were going to retrieve the charged origanum with the doctor," I said as we descended from the base of the hill, gravel crunching beneath our shoes.
The sun hung too close for comfort, pressing its warmth down with an almost personal insistence. Miss Li Hua had at least thought to give us parasols—simple things, though the light still found its way through.
"Yes, that was the original intention," she replied, not bothering to turn back. Her steps were measured, unhurried. "However, the location he proposed proved… unreliable."
She adjusted her hat, glanced briefly skyward, then looked back with a smile too thin to reassure.
"So," she concluded, "we shall proceed by my method."
I glanced at Heiwa. Her expression hovered between unease and irritation—whether at Miss Li Hua's words or the relentless sun, I couldn't tell.
At the foot of the hill waited a carriage.
It stood alone on the road, lacquered black and immaculate, its presence so deliberate it felt less arrived than inevitable. No driver. No footman. Just waiting.
"Miss Li Hua," Heiwa asked carefully, eyes fixed on it, "are we meant to take this?"
Miss Li Hua stopped.
She looked at the carriage. Then at us. Then sighed, faintly disappointed.
"Very well," she said. "Vicky, consider this a lesson."
She snapped her fingers.
The air folded.
A man appeared.
"What the—" I started, cutting myself off as Heiwa moved instantly. Cold gathered around her hand, crystallizing into an ice blade—clean, sharp, beautiful in the way danger often is.
"Ma'am," Heiwa said, stepping in front of me, blade raised. "Explain."
I stared, less stunned by the man than by how natural her response had been.
Of course she could form an ice blade from nothing. Of course.
Miss Li Hua studied us for a moment before answering. "Trade secret."
The man bowed.
He appeared to be in his early fifties, black hair neatly combed and silvered at the temples. His suit was immaculate, pressed as though untouched by dust—or time. His eyes were calm. Too calm.
"He will be our driver," Miss Li Hua added. "And three is already a crowd."
She stepped into the carriage.
The man held the door. Heiwa hesitated, blade still raised.
I gently touched her wrist. "It's fine," I murmured, hoping I sounded braver than I felt.
Inside, she lowered her weapon at last.
"Apologies for my—" she began.
Miss Li Hua raised a hand, silencing her without looking away from the window.
The city slid past outside—eerily clean, emptied of noise. Figures in white moved between buildings, purposeful and silent. We passed through barricades ringing the streets: wood, iron, improvised answers to panic.
"Was that a summoning?" Heiwa asked once we were well beyond the walls.
Miss Li Hua held a porcelain bowl.
Ice cream. Of all things.
"You could call it that," she said mildly.
"But I sensed no mana," Heiwa pressed. "No demonic tether."
"That would be because he is not a demon," Miss Li Hua replied, lifting a spoon. "He bleeds."
She closed her eyes briefly, savoring it.
"He is," she added, "largely human."
The carriage rolled on.
"North," Heiwa murmured after a while.
"Hmm?" I asked.
"We're heading north."
I glanced at Miss Li Hua. She said nothing.
Stone gave way to fields. Roads narrowed. Civilization loosened its grip. By the time the second sun dipped low, the carriage finally halted.
"We should have taken the train," Heiwa muttered.
"And who," Miss Li Hua replied, seated on a fallen tree trunk, "would have driven it?"
She arched a brow. "Ignoring every other complication, of course."
Heiwa said no more.
Night arrived with the rise of the red moon, staining the sky like an old wound reopened. Nearby, a fire crackled as the driver—Mnemon, though we did not yet know his name—prepared dinner.
"Mulligatawny soup," he said gently. "Please enjoy."
It was unfamiliar—spiced, warming. Even Heiwa ate, after a moment's hesitation.
Crickets sang. Owls watched.
"At last," Heiwa said, "where are we going?"
"To an alchemist," Miss Li Hua replied. "One rumored to possess the plant we require."
She gazed up at the stars. "I may know them. That does not mean we will be safe."
She rose. "Question everything, Vicky. You might learn from Heiwa."
Then, after a pause, she added, "Mnemon will see to the rest."
Later, lying on our futons with dust and travel still clinging to us, I asked, "Do you know where exactly we're headed?"
"Zhōngchéng Zhōu," Heiwa replied. "Loyal Heart Province. The Dog Province."
She sighed. "Beyond that, I'm uncertain."
After a moment, she turned to me. "Do you know how Miss Li Hua summoned him?"
I have theories," I said, the concepts swirling in my head like ink in water. I hadn't felt the snap of mana or the heavy pull of a contract, but I'd felt the air change—a sudden thinning, like a mountain path. "I haven't attempted it. But I can see the shape of how it's done.
She studied me in silence.
"I can do it," I insisted.
"I didn't say you couldn't," she replied, amused, turning away. "Good night."
The red moon watched with bloodshot eyes.
And I slept knowing the road ahead would not forgive mistakes.