“That’s dust from a lotus-pill blossom!” Hui said. He reached for his fire talismans, then hesitated. I can’t control the output very well. I don’t want to hurt Li Xiang!

“Or dust from a lotus pill… either way, keep it away from you!” Xue agreed. She reached out her hand, then hesitated. “Dammit, I can’t use fire in this form!”

“The butterfly,” Hui suggested, pointing at the mark on her palm.

“Oh, right!” She threw her hand out, palm up, fingers splayed. A fiery butterfly materialized from the red mark on her palm. Flapping its wings once, twice, it took to the air and alighted on Li Xiang’s fingertip. Fire sparked from its feet, burning the dust away with a little poof!

With a flurry of wingbeats, the fiery butterfly darted into the air. Flustered, it danced in the air, then flew back to Bai Xue’s hand. It landed and became a mark on her palm once more.

“Is it safe?” Li Xiang asked, tipping her head.

“Should be. No one touch the ground,” Bai Xue said, tense.

Hui drew out a talisman. “Everyone back up. I’ll hit the alley with fire and burn away any remnants of the powder.”

Drawing Li Xiang with her, Bai Xue ducked around the corner behind him, out of the alley. Hui followed. At the mouth of the alley, he turned and held up the talisman. “Activate!”

A simple tiger’s head made of fire burst from the talisman and roared down the alley. The ground sparked alight. Flame lingered a second after the tiger passed, then died away.

“Eh? Was that… a tabby cat?” Xue asked, peeking around the corner.

“No, a tiger. Tiger’s-Roar Flame,” Hui explained. “I simplified the formula slightly, but it’s still a tiger.”

“I’m pretty sure I know a tabby cat when I see one,” Xue replied.

“It was adorable! Hui, you have to teach me that,” Li Xiang insisted.

Hui coughed. “Er, you’ll have to ask Bai Luoren, it’s… not my technique. And, er, it’s a tiger, not a tabby cat.”

Bai Xue waved away the conversation. “No, no. That’s not the point. That was lotus-pill dust, one way or another. And you said you saw Bai clan cultivators in the alley?”

Hui nodded.

Bai Xue rubbed her face. “It could be a response to a bloom. It isn’t necessarily a problem.”

“Yes,” Hui agreed.

She shook her head, scowling. “Dammit. We’ve got to find them. If I knew who it was, at least then—”

A flute rang out over the distant hubbub of the crowd. All three of them whirled to face the sound.

“Li Xiang!” Hui grabbed her waist and held on tight.

Bai Xue grabbed onto Li Xiang from the other side. “Go!”

“Here I go!” Li Xiang drew her sword, threw it into the air, and leaped after it. Clamping onto it with her feet, she pointed the tip down and focused. The three of them blasted into the sky.

Colors flashed underneath. Hui scanned the crowd for dark colors. A man in black, layered in bandages—no flute. Yellow talismans blanketing blackened, mummified skin, a jaw hung open, eyes hollow gaps—no flute. Dark gray robes flickering with silver, a dash of wood and silver at their hip—flute! “There, down and forward a bit!”

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“The bloom’s over a street, about to burst!” Bai Xue shouted, pointing. Louder, she added, “Get back! Get away from her!”

Hui whirled. A woman clawed her hands at the sky, head tipped back, thick roots crawling from her eye sockets as the lotus climbed to the sun. Her body desiccated before their eyes, the lotus sucking all the liquid out of her. Dammit! He grit his teeth, then reached into his robes. I have no choice!

“Which way?” Li Xiang asked.

“Chase the man with the flute!” Hui snapped. He threw a fire talisman at the woman, then a barrier talisman.

“But the bloom, it’ll hurt bystanders—” Li Xiang protested.

“I’ve got it handled!” Hui replied.

“Okay!” She hurtled toward the flautist.

Staring over his shoulder, Hui bit his lip, waiting. The lotus grew rapidly. The crowd backed away from her, opening up a space. Atop the twining roots, the bud fattened.

Just as the bloom burst, the barrier talisman encased her in a ball of golden light. Pollen filled the golden ball, so thick it appeared opaque from outside. A second later, a simple tiger’s maw made of flame burst through the pollen, burning the pollen and the lotus to ash. The woman was all that remained, body stiff and dry in death. The golden barrier remained, hanging in the air while the talisman slowly died.

“I’ll get my clan to pick up the pills later. Good going, Hui,” Bai Xue said.

Hui pressed his lips together. “I’ve only got one barrier talisman left. Hopefully we don’t run into another of those soon…”

“You, there! Stop in the name of the law!” Li Xiang shouted, hurtling down on the flautist.

The flautist glanced over his shoulder. At the sight of them barreling down on him, he pushed himself faster, bolting away over the rooftops.

He isn’t riding a weapon? He’s below fourth stage, then. Good, we can handle him! Hui grinned.

Li Xiang manipulated the sword with her feet and pointed the tip at the fleeing flautist as they plunged down toward him. At the last second, he threw himself forward in a roll and dodged her blow. Her sword plunged into the roof tiles of the house below them.

Bai Xue and Hui hopped off. Hui drew his sword. Fans flipped out of Bai Xue’s sleeves and landed perfectly in her hands.

Not hesitating a moment, the flautist jumped up and sprinted away.

“Hmph.” Bai Xue swept her fans. Ice crackled over the rooftop, limning the tiles in silver. The ice chased after the flautist, biting at his ankles, almost catching him.

The flautist leaped off the roof for the streets below.

“Not so fast!” Li Xiang gestured, pointing at the flautist with two fingers. Her sword flew out of the roof and hurtled after him. He glanced back and sped up, but couldn’t outpace Li Xiang’s sword. It pierced through the back of his neck and straight through to the wall.

“Li Xiang!” Hui shouted, startled. I didn’t think she was the type to kill a man like that!

“I’ve detained him for questioning,” she declared proudly.

“You—huh?” Hui peered closer at the caught flautist.

Dangling from the wall, facing the wall, head ducked against his chest, he glared at them unwillingly. His fingers twitched, but he couldn’t break free from the pinning. Silver lines danced across his skin, leading back to the sword.

“Good job, Daodao,” Li Xiang said.

Bai Xue marched up to the flautist, chuckling darkly. She grabbed the man’s shoulder and turned him around to face them, twisting his black-and-silver robes behind his neck.

A boy about Hui’s age stared back at them. A short ponytail in black, colored slightly silver, jutted from the back of his head, and his eyes had the same black-silver tone to them. Unnaturally pale, his skin had a grayish tone to it unlike Xue’s pure white, and dark bags hung under his eyes. Long bangs hung in his face, parted around his eyes.

Bai Xue frowned. “So you’re the one who’s been blooming lotuses in my city?”

He glared silently at her.

“Daodao, I give him permission to speak,” Li Xiang said.

“What’s your name? What clan are you from?” Bai Xue asked.

The flautist spat.

Bai Xue narrowed her eyes and flicked a fan. Ice crawled over the flautist’s skin. He paled. His face tensed, unwilling, but he couldn’t help but shiver.

“If you don’t want to start losing your… extremities,” Bai Xue gestured, and the flautist grew paler. She leaned in and whispered, “I’d start talking.”

“Gu Tian. No clan,” he grumbled.

Hui blinked. Gu Tian? Isn’t that the same as that body I found in the secret realm? He dipped his hand in his robes and touched the nametag scrap. Is Gu Tian a common name?

“Who put you up to this?” Bai Xue threatened.

“You should know,” he replied, defiant.

Bai Xue’s brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He cast his eyes aside and scowled at the floor.

“Is it someone in Bai clan?” Hui guessed.

He glanced at Hui.

Bai Xue and Hui exchanged a look.

“Let me go! You’ve got what you wanted,” the flautist insisted, twisting.

“Not for a long time yet. You’re coming back with me, and the experts will ask you a few more questions.” Xue reached for his flute.

Gu Tian struggled. “No!”

Abruptly, he stiffened. Color drained from his body. His flute melted in Bai Xue’s hand, and then the rest of him followed suit, and he collapsed into a puddle of ink.

Li Xiang held up her hand, and her sword darted to it. Bai Xue leaped back, flourishing her fans. Hui drew his sword. He searched the rooftops, eyes narrowed.

“It’s too early for that,” a high-pitched voice tittered behind them.

Hui whirled.