Sacrifice by Cindy Pon Read Free Book Online

of sinners and give punishment. You will select your first victim today.”
    “You want me to murder a man?” Skybright whispered.
    Stone’s emotionless expression was answer enough.
    “No,” she said, so loudly that the lone patron sitting near them gave her a sidelong glance. Ignoring him, she leaned toward Stone. “I will not do this.”
    “If you refuse to use your gift,” Stone replied, “I will choose an innocent bystander instead.” His dark gaze swept over the noisy crowd, settling on a quiet man sitting in the far corner—a young scholar by the looks of his simple robe.
    Skybright saw that his face shone with light. But then the young man’s eyes widened, and he clasped his throat, mouth opening and closing like a fish flung out of water. She jumped to her feet, gripping the railing.
    Stone watched the young man with detached interest, as if observing a slow game of Go.
    The man had scrambled to his own feet, eyes bulging with panic, his face gone white, both hands encircling his neck, as if he were strangling himself as he struggled to take a breath. Two other patrons sitting near him had risen, gaping at the helpless man in alarm.
    “It seems such a foolish way to die, does it not?” Stone asked. “Choking on a piece of meat.”
    The young man crashed into a table, knocking plates and cups to the floor in a loud clatter. Patrons shouted in alarm. A large man with a thick beard slapped the scholar on his back, trying to dislodge the food from his throat. But it didn’t help. Skybright could see the light in the young man’s face slowly dimming, like a flickering candle at wick’s end.
    “Stop.” She lunged across the table and grabbed Stone’s arm—the first time she had ever willingly touched him. “You’ve made your point.”
    “We are agreed then?” he asked.
    “Yes,” she said. “I will choose.”
    Another thwack brought something large and dark from the young scholar’s mouth, and he collapsed against a table, chest heaving as he gulped down air. The teahouse owner ran up, then helped the man onto a stool pushed to the wall. A few patrons banged on the tables with their fists in approval, then returned to their food and drink.
    “Good,” Stone replied, his mouth curving into the ghost of a smile. “Who will it be then?”

 
    Kai Sen
     
     
    The night was so deep that it was impossible to see in the forest. Kai Sen relied on his senses as he trod carefully between the trees and walked for a fair time before stopping somewhere within its depths. He cocked his head and listened to the night noises that surrounded him: the soft rustle of leaves, the steady hum and chirping of insects, and the stirring of nocturnal animals.
    Kai Sen cupped his hands and looked down, but his vision remained black, too dark to discern anything. He chanted the spell Abbot Wu had taught him and opened his senses to the night. The elements enveloping him felt eternal—endless—twining tight around his own spirit and unraveling into the stars, then reaching down again as deep as the world’s core. Sifting in his mind’s eye, he tugged at the intense fire element, bypassing the wavering water strands and the solidity of earth, which tasted like grit against his tongue when he called its magic. The wood element was overpowering here, supple and surprisingly light, as it commanded the air and wind and sound as well. He tasted a sharp tang every time he touched metal magic but focused on pulling threads of fire to him. The slickness of hellfire settled into his curved palms.
    Gazing at the tiny blue flame, Kai Sen smiled and willed it to grow. It vibrated as it did so, like a living thing, until it was as large as an apple. He was in a part of the ancient cypress forest that was familiar to him, less than half a league from the creek that wound its way down Tian Kuan Mountain. That creek always brought to mind Skybright, and his chest felt weighted, remembering the handmaid, the girl serpent demon he had