Above them, the world was falling.
Zhen clung to Tao Zi's arm with both hands, her knuckles white, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. The wind screamed past her ears. Her white hair whipped around her face like a living thing.
She did not let go.
She would not let go.
If she let go, she would fall. And if she fell, she would die. And if she died, Mama would be sad, and Papa would be cold, and Yòu Lín would cry, and none of that was acceptable.
So she held on.
Tao Zi did not pull away.
They sat on Cāng Jì's back, the golden scales warm beneath them, the wind cold against their faces. Neither of them spoke. Neither of them looked at each other.
The dragon flew higher.
Zhen's stomach dropped.
"I am going to tell the Burning Sky! I'm going to tell Dà Jiāo Huǒ ! He will definitely deal with you!" she screamed.
Cāng Jì's laughter echoed in her mind. Do it, little star. He will tell you that you deserve it.
"I do not deserve this!"
