Chapter 9: The Peak of the Silent Bird
The second mountain did not wait for the wounds of the first to heal.
I was not permitted to return to the Phoenix Chamber. Instead, the guards marched me across a bridge of spun glass that connected the Peak of Origins to the Peak of the Silent Bird. Below, the clouds were a churning sea of violet and gray, hiding the world I had once belonged to. My shoulder throbbed where the Father-Wolf had bitten me—a reminder that in this place, memories had teeth.
The air on the second peak was different. It didn't smell of ash; it smelled of nothing. An absolute, sterile void that made my tongue feel heavy and dry.
"The bird you are hunting is not a creature of the sky," the Empress's voice drifted from the mist behind me. She was a shadow against the white fog, her long, decorative nail-guards clicking together like a countdown. "It is the manifestation of your delight. Slay it, and you shall never again be distracted by the baubles of the world."
*She wants you hollow, Mei,* Hou's voice purred in my mind. It was stronger now, more resonant, as if swallowing the pearl had given him a seat at the center of my soul. *She wants a doll. But I? I want a queen. Queens do not hunt with their hands; they hunt with their will.*
I didn't answer him. I couldn't. Every time I tried to formulate a thought of rebellion, the cold itch behind my eyes pulsed, smoothing my anger into a dull, compliant lethargy.
Then, I saw it.
Perched upon a jagged tooth of obsidian was a bird the size of a carriage. Its feathers were a riot of impossible colors—vermilion, azure, and a gold so bright it made my eyes water. It was the exact color of the wooden bird my father had carved for me, the one memory the Void had already begun to bleach.
The bird opened its beak and sang.
It wasn't a song; it was the sound of my mother laughing. It was the sound of the first spring rain hitting the parched earth of the Wastes. It was every beautiful thing I had ever seen, compressed into a single, haunting melody.
My heart ached with a sudden, violent longing. I dropped my stone-knife. I wanted to run to it, to bury my face in those brilliant feathers and forget the ink, the gold, and the Emperor who was dying in the dark.
*It is a trap, little ghost,* Hou hissed, and suddenly, my right arm jerked upward.
I didn't move it. He did.
My fingers curved into a claw, the silver-black ink under my skin glowing with a predatory light. My body felt like a marionette, the strings pulled by a master who lived inside my nerves.
"Stop," I gasped, my voice sounding like a choir of the dead. "Let me go."
*You are too soft, Mei. You would let it sing you to sleep while the Empress sews your eyes shut. Let me show you how a Void-Born truly strikes.*
My legs moved. I was sprinting across the glass bridge, but I felt like a passenger in my own skin. The bird took flight, a streak of vermilion against the gray sky. It dived toward me, its talons like needles of frozen light.
*Blink,* Hou commanded.
I didn't have to stop my breath this time. He did it for me. My heart gave one final, thudding beat and then went silent.
The world turned into a tapestry of gray static. I felt myself dissolve. I passed through the bird's wings, the azure feathers feeling like cold silk against my non-existent skin. I reappeared behind it, my hand—his hand—striking downward.
I felt the bird's joy shatter.
It didn't bleed. It burst into a cloud of colorless gray dust. The song cut off abruptly, leaving a silence so profound it felt like a physical weight.
I fell to the ground, my heart restarting with a jolt that sent fire through my veins. I clawed at the glass, gasping for air.
*Two skins shed,* Hao-Ran's voice whispered from the earth, vibrating in my teeth. *You are becoming so light, sister. Soon, you will be nothing but a shadow in the wind.*
I reached for the memory of the wooden bird. I tried to remember the color of the azure paint my father had used.
Nothing.
The memory was gray. The azure was gone. The vermilion was gone. I looked at my hands, and for a terrifying second, I couldn't understand why they were pink. The concept of "color" was beginning to slip through my fingers like water.
*Well done,* Hou whispered, his voice dripping with a terrifying affection. *Now, eat.*
"Eat what?" I rasped.
The gray dust of the bird was swirling around me. Under Hou's guidance, my skin began to drink the dust. The silver-black ink on my arms grew darker, more solid. My strength returned, but it was a cold, borrowed strength.
I realized then that I wasn't just killing my memories; I was consuming them to fuel the monster I was becoming.
---
### [The Forbidden Archive: The Choice]
Long Feng sat in the dark, the Obsidian Dagger resting across his knees. The blood from his nose had dried, staining his Imperial robes in patterns that looked like the maps of a lost country.
The Mirror-Scripts were clear. The Empress intended for the "Collapse" to happen at the wedding ceremony. When he placed the ring on Lin Mei's finger, the circuit would close. The Loom would surge, and the explosion of Qi would level the palace, taking Hou and Mei with it.
"She would kill the world to keep her throne," he whispered.
He looked at the dagger. To use it, he would have to strike Mei during the Trial—while she was vulnerable, while her "Ghost-Skins" were thin. If he severed the thread now, Hou would be blinded, but the shock would likely shatter her mind.
A shadow fell across the Archive door. It was Xiao. The boy was pale, his eyes wide and dark, clutching the hem of his oversized tunic.
"Brother?" Xiao whispered. "The Prince... Prince Hou... he said you were going to hurt Mei. He said I had to find the black knife and hide it."
Long Feng froze. He looked at the child—his brother, the one spark of innocence left in this house of ghosts. He saw the way Xiao looked at the dagger with terror.
Hou had already won the boy.
"Xiao, listen to me," Long Feng said, his voice cracking. "The Prince is not your friend. He is using Mei's eyes to see into this room."
Xiao shook his head, tears welling. "No. He said you were the one who let the needles hurt her. He said you're a coward who hides in the dark while she bleeds."
Long Feng stood, the gray shadow on his neck pulsing with a sickly light. He realized then that he couldn't just save Mei. He had to save Xiao from the rot of the Prince's words.
"I am not hiding, Xiao," Long Feng said, stepping toward him. "I am preparing."
But as he moved, he felt a sharp, cold prick in his own mind. He realized with a jolt of horror that if Hou was watching through Mei... then Hou had seen the Mirror-Scripts.
The Prince knew about the Siphon.
Across the peaks, Lin Mei felt Hou laugh.
*Thank you for the map, Emperor,* Hou whispered in her mind. *Now I know exactly where to strike.*