I’d been in a dozen battles since that first time and each one was different than the last. This one was in a place called Corinth, nearly past the emperor’s domain. But, as Guan Yin explained, because it was on the periphery, my presence was less likely to be noticed.

  Roman soldiers screamed from beyond the city walls. Their voices carried into the narrow streets below as people cowered behind thin walls. The rumors that their General had fled to Arcadia and abandoned the remaining Archaean army, were true. Over half the Archaeans still fought hopelessly against the larger Roman army. Though some had run with their leader, the rest were sequestered inside the Corinthian walls with the doomed citizens.

  I studied the battle prior to being dropped into the city, noting the cunning of both armies. The Romans had taken a hit from the Achaeans during the night, and they hungered for vengeance. The Archaeans' small lead evaporated rapidly, their failure palpable in the air. Soon, the Corinthian citizens would also be lost. Why else would I be here to witness the destruction of Zhilan and Niu Qiang and not on the battlements outside the walls?

  Plum blossoms hinted on the wind as I searched the streets for my parents. Guan Yin had placed an illusion on me to help me blend in but insisted I wear a simple dress with sandals. With only a small dagger to defend myself, the sense of vulnerability was overwhelming. I longed for the breeches, tunics, and swords of the previous outings.

  Spying into homes and down alleyways I looked for anyone that resembled my parents in the townspeople, but the city was home to ninety thousand people. My stomach knotted at the knowledge that most would be dead after the Romans breached the walls. Given the proximity of the noise, it was only a matter of hours before the city was overrun.

  As I rounded a corner, I almost tripped over a small boy in the street. Tears welled in his brown eyes as his mouth worked silently. I started to run by, but the thought of Liko made me stop. Panicked people hurried past, pointedly ignoring him. The boy was alone and scared.

  I scooped him into my arms, as men swarmed the streets armed with tools and small knives, while the sounds of carnage escalated from the city gates. Women huddled together in their homes, hiding their children.

  “Mama!” The boy cried into my ear as his arms reached over my shoulder. A woman with ruddy cheeks and desperate eyes tore the child from my arms and hastened away.

  As the gates fell beneath the onslaught, the streets erupted in panic. A familiar, lilting voice came to me in wisps between clashing metal and anguished cries. I ran in the direction it came from as Zhilan’s voice traveled the streets, full of want and despair.

  I peered carefully into the street to see a woman donned in a muted blue gown standing boldly in the street, her black hair curling down her back. She didn’t turn as I yelled her name. Towards her galloped a large horse; its rider's bronze helmet gleamed in the sun. Though he raised his sword, she remained still.

  She screamed Niu Qiang’s name once more as the soldier sliced through the air. Zhilan dropped in a spray of blood.

  Another rider emerged behind the first, pulling his horse to a halt. Stripping his helm, he landed beside her, cradling her in his arms.

  “Zhilan,” he stammered her name and cupped her cheeks. A local man emerged behind him, slamming a knife into his throat before I could cry out.

  As I approached, a soldier intervened, killing the man who murdered my father. Three bodies lay bleeding in the street when the soldier turned his helmed gaze to me and started forward.

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  He chased me as I ran down side streets. I tripped in my sandals and fell against the wall. With a jerk, the soldier yanked my arm, pulling me back. He felt no threat from me, so he sheathed his gladius on his right hip and pulled me along. I was too innocent to understand why he wasn't trying to kill me.

  The Romans dragged men from their homes and gutted them like fish. Their entrails snaked along the ground in pools of shit and blood while their families were forced to watch. The soldier's plan became clear as we went past women, young and old, pinned down by soldiers, their skirts hiked up as they fought back.

  I’d forgotten Fu Hao’s lesson on the truth of women in warfare. We can kill just as well as a man. But if we lose, our bodies become claimed things. Properties of the victors. Women are far more likely to suffer before they are killed.

  He pulled me into a small house as I determined the best way to kill him. Other than his helm, he wore no body armor. Gripping my small dagger, I used his momentum against him. My rush towards him threw him off balance. The blade slid easily between his ribs. He gasped, then gripped my throat with his hands, while the blade jutted from his side. I knocked the helm from his head revealing a mop of ebony curls and large, dark eyes. His youthful face was made ugly by rage.

  Though I struggled, I couldn't free myself from his grip around my throat. Frantically, my hands searched until I located the dagger embedded in his ribs, then I twisted it. He wailed and released me. I gasped for air and pulled the blade from his side as I slipped away. Blood oozed between his fingers as he tried to staunch the wound.

  Behind him, a woman stepped from the kitchen’s shadows. She lifted a large kettle and slammed it on his head. The soldier collapsed with a sickening crunch; his curls matted with blood.

  The woman’s eyes were as dark as my own. We stared at each other, trembling until the sounds in the street spurned her into action. She darted from the house as I called after her.

  “You can’t save her.” Guan Yin said, appearing behind me. She was dressed in a gown like mine, though bloodier and more disheveled. I stared at her as if I hadn’t heard. “You can’t save any of them, not ever.”

  “I don’t understand,” I said.

  “The people you encounter have a fate that is already sealed. It is not your job to save them.”

  “But the children?”

  She shook her head. “I am only ever allowed to save a few of them per century. It’s time for you to go home.”

  “What about you?”

  “My work here is far from over, but I will see you tonight.” She clapped her hands, and I stood in her gardens, staring at the lotus flowers as the sprites zipped around my face and tugged at my braids.

  #

  “Conflict is dangerous. Some men will feel entitled to your body as a prize they have earned. In those moments, you must teach them otherwise,” Fu Hao said.

  We had finished our training for the morning, but our conversations often ended with philosophical and hypothetical discussions.

  “Never tolerate a man’s unwanted touch. The soldiers you encounter are destined to die anyway, and I would rather have them dead than you. If you die, no one will break your parent’s curse.” She said it matter-of-factly, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world.

  “I don’t want to kill anyone,” I said.

  She sighed, leaning back on the bench we shared. “I never wanted to kill anyone. But I wanted to live, and I wanted my countrymen to live and so others had to die. If you are strong in your mission, you will be called to actions that challenge who you think you are.”

  I closed my eyes, my head throbbed. “Guan Yin says I cannot save anyone, and you encourage me to kill.” I shook my head, thinking of the boy that I had held in my arms. He and his mother were already dead or enslaved, the city sacked and burned. “What if I want to save someone? What if I seek to disable someone rather than kill them?”

  She studied the sprites as they settled on the flower petals. “You are still young, perhaps in time you will have someone you are willing to kill for. But I will not be here to see it.” She took my hand. “It is time for me to go.”

  “Go?”

  “My son is set to reincarnate, and Guan Yin has arranged for me to be with him in my next life. It is the payment I asked for in return for training you.”

  I tried to steady my voice before speaking. “When?”

  “I’ll be gone by morning.”

  “So soon?” I whispered. “I’m not ready.”

  She smiled. “That is part of the exercise, Jiang Li. The letting go. It’s the balance of the universe. The having and the releasing. It never matters if you are ready or not.” We sat in silence as the birds chirped above. “Soon you’ll meet your new teachers, mind them and learn from them. Promise me that you will endeavor to save yourself, and that you will persevere. Promise me that you will win.”

  I nodded and stood with her, giving her a deep bow. When I arrived back in my room, her bronze battle axe lay across my bed, a final gift from my shifu.