The sole of my shoe skims over a staff.
‘That way! Cut them off!’
Zuobituo turns with me in her arms. A red tip sweeps past her shoulder, washing heat over my neck. I duck my chin. Another man is coming round a haystack by the field bank, swinging his staff up to block us.
She twists, and I grab the arm round my waist. A jagged edge catches my fingers.
I look down. There's a split across her arm, black round the edges. The part against my clothes is still hot.
‘Your arm—’
‘Stop that thing!’
A red staff swings in from the side. Her free hand settles on the shaft and guides it down, its tip scraping along the ground. The man pitches after it. She catches his arm, gives him a one-handed swing, and sends him flying into the haystack.
His staff hits the road. He props himself on his elbows and lifts his head out of the hay.
‘Put me down!’ I shift my hand away from the split. ‘I can run. You need that arm to protect yourself.’
Her hold stays steady as she backs towards the edge of the road.
‘I will put you down when we are clear.’
A staff crashes into the place she's just left, spraying grit against my soles. I tuck my feet up and cling to her shoulders. I don't hurry her again.
The roadside trees blur past. The shouts fall behind us, and she steps down off the road to set me on a patch of level ground. My knees give a little. I hold on to her until they're steady.
Someone's already reached the edge above us. I turn, looking for a way out. A thin muddy path slopes down through the bushes, vanishing into trees after a few steps.
‘This way!’
I take her other hand and go first.
Twigs scrape my forehead. I duck, grab my backpack strap and run. My shoes sink into the mud; I wrench them out and plant them again.
The staffs aren't reaching us now.
‘They've gone down there! After them!’
The voice comes through the trees. I keep running, not daring to look back. The branches close in until she has to turn sideways to get through, but her hand stays round mine.
‘Can you still move this one?’
‘This hand is undamaged.’
‘Good. Hold on.’
The path bends behind the trees. The footsteps above grow fainter, and I let my stride open up. I take a breath and realise how hard I've been clenching my teeth.
The water sounds close.
I think we're about to join a path along the river. I push through the last leaves and stop short.
A whole stretch of water cuts across in front of us, running in beneath the cliffs on the left and rushing out into a much bigger river on the right. The currents meet in a churn of white. Our path ends at my feet.
I look left. Rock walls rise above the mouth of the smaller river, wet marks higher than my head. Nothing to step along. As for the big river on the right—I peer over, and something dark beneath the surface is swept out of sight.
‘There's no—’
A branch snaps behind us. I swallow the rest and turn. The path we've come down hugs the rock wall. I can't see anyone round the bend yet, but the leaves are shaking.
Zuobituo looks across the water. There's a little gravel bank on the other side, trees beyond it. A path between them.
‘I will carry you across.’
She lets go of my hand and bends down. I swing my backpack round to my chest, nearly tying myself up in the straps.
‘Ready!’
I put my arms round her shoulders and lean as far towards her uninjured side as I can. Her hold tightens. The plates on her back part, and her wings flare with light.
I go rigid. The water and stones drop away beneath my feet.
White water rushes under us, roaring in my ears. She's carrying me straight towards the other bank. We aren't falling, but I still keep trying to pull my feet higher.
Nearly there.
Her toes touch gravel. Her knee buckles.
I slide down and catch her round the waist as soon as my feet land. My heels skid backwards over loose stones. I find firm earth beside them and push my shoulder against her.
‘Slow down. Get your feet under you first.’
She braces a hand on a rock. After a moment she straightens, and we turn together. I'm still braced against her.
A red staff pokes out of the bushes opposite us. The bearded officer pushes round the bend behind it, dislodging stones at the edge of the path. He snatches his foot back and holds his staff across the men behind him.
‘Stop! Don't push!’
Two more squeeze out. One looks up at the cliff, the other at the river, then at us.
‘The demon can fly!’
Zuobituo doesn't answer. She studies the empty stretch of path ahead of them, her chrysanthemum petals slowly tilting towards the rock jutting out above it.
I follow her gaze. Nobody's under that overhang. The men are still further back at the bend, held there by their leader's staff.
Her hand tightens on the rock beside us.
‘Peach, stand behind me.’
A point of white appears between her brows. I move behind her shoulder. When I look back, there's red in the light, and it stretches into a thin line across the water.
Spray bursts upwards.
I shut my eyes. Even through my eyelids, everything's red. Heat strikes my forehead. Then a crack.
I open my eyes a sliver. A burning cut runs across the rock face. The overhang slowly tilts outwards, shedding grit.
‘Get back!’
The bearded officer shoves a man back round the bend. The rock crashes onto the empty path in front of them and breaks apart. Dust surges up the cliff.
I crouch, covering my head. Stones splash into the water, sending spray over the staffs on the other side. Men cough in the dust and call to one another.
‘What's happening? A rockfall?’
The heat eases. I look up. The light on Zuobituo's forehead has gone out.
Boulders block the path opposite us. The staffs sticking out beyond them draw back, one by one. Someone tries to climb over, shifts a loose stone, and gets hauled down by another man.
I'm still crouching when she lowers her chrysanthemum face towards me.
‘The path is blocked. Let us leave. My main furnace needs about a day to cool.’
Her injured arm hangs at her side, the split facing out. I stand and take her other hand.
‘Right. Come on. Let's find somewhere to sort out your arm.’
The path into the woods is just behind us. I've barely turned her towards it when a shout comes across the water.
‘Stop!’
The bearded officer has climbed onto the fallen rocks. He's handed his staff to someone below and planted his feet one ahead of the other. A man catches at the hem of his clothes.
‘Big Brother, don't. You won't make it!’
‘I am Liu Shihui! Would I let demons escape? Little brothers, watch closely—the Liu family's demon-subduing art!’
He tugs his hem free. The other man lets go. His knees bend, red light gathering along his legs.
Oh, surely not.
‘Goooolden… Splendour… Deeemon-Slaying…’
Zuobituo steps in front of me. Her injured arm comes up again.
I crouch and grab a stone beside my shoe.
‘Fiiiirelight… Kiiiick—!’
He launches off the boulder in a shower of chips. One leg's stretched out in front of him, sole towards us, but his face is straight ahead.
I throw the stone at it.
Smack.
Right between the eyebrows.
His head jerks back. He grabs at the air, his outstretched leg folds, and he drops sideways into the river.
He lands close to the bank he jumped from. A hand flails above the surface, then his head comes up.
‘Sorcery!’ He splutters.
‘Little brothers! Get a staff and save your uncle!’
Two men scramble round the rocks to the narrow strip beside the water. One lies flat; the other grips his belt. A staff reaches out. The bearded man catches its red end and lets go at once.
‘Hot! The black end! Black—’ He chokes on another mouthful.
The man on his stomach immediately turns the staff round. The officer clings to the black end with both hands. The current swings him halfway round, but the men haul him back to the bank. He catches hold of a rock, coughing until his whole face is red.
My hand's empty. Sand sticks to my palm.
‘Go, go, go.’
I pull Zuobituo into the trees. Behind us, someone calls to slow down, hold tight. Nobody shouts at us to stop.
Once the river's hidden, I keep going a little further before I dare stop for breath. My knees won't stop shaking. I press a hand against them. They're still at it.
Zuobituo waits beside me.
I look up at her, then down at my hand, and a little laugh comes out with my breath.
‘Pretty good aim, right?’
She lowers her chrysanthemum face.
‘Yes. Between the eyebrows.’
‘You noticed.’
I try to laugh again, but my mouth wobbles. I bend my head and breathe out hard. I wipe the sand off my palm on my trousers and look at the injured hand hanging by her side.
‘Give me that hand. Let me hold it.’
She holds out the injured one.
I let go of her other hand and slip my palm under her wrist. We walk on together. The path winds uphill; a stretch of river shows between the trees. I can't make out the voices on the other bank any more.
I push some leaves aside, checking whether anyone's still following us.
Further upstream, on the cliff—doesn't that look like someone standing there?
Too far away to make out clothes. Just someone not moving, facing us.
I turn to call Zuobituo. She's ducking under a branch.
When I look back, there's nobody there.