Lin Han's hands trembled as he clutched the jade seal, its dragon carvings cool against his skin. Hidden in a Xianyang slum, he crouched in a potter's shed with Chen and the peasant brothers, their faces gaunt under flickering lamplight. The terracotta vault's ambush had cost them Bo and nearly their lives, and Mei-Ling's silence since their escape gnawed at him. Had she known about the trap? Her bow had saved them, but her ties to Lord Zhao lingered like a blade at his throat.
Chen broke the quiet, his voice rough. "That seal's trouble. Zhao's men will tear the city apart to find it."
"Then we use it," Lin Han said, his mind racing. The seal, tied to the First Emperor's legacy, could sway the people, hungry for a symbol of hope. He'd seen the villagers' eyes when they'd delivered stolen grain, desperate but defiant. If he could rally them, Zhao's corruption would crumble.
The shed's door creaked, and Mei-Ling slipped inside, her bow slung across her back. Her noble braid was frayed, her eyes wary. "Zhao's doubled the city guard," she said. "They're searching every alley. You can't stay here."
"You led us to that trap," Lin Han said, standing, the seal heavy in his hand. "Give me a reason not to leave you behind."
Mei-Ling's jaw tightened. "I didn't betray you. My brother serves Zhao. He warned me of the vault's guards, but I couldn't stop them. I stayed to fight, didn't I?"
Chen snorted, but Lin Han held her gaze. Her words rang true, but trust was a luxury he couldn't afford. "Prove it," he said. "Help us get this seal to the river clans. They'll join us if it's real."
Before she could answer, a shadow moved outside. Xun, the cloaked wanderer, stepped into the lamplight, his eyes like chipped flint. "The seal's power is no mere symbol," he said. "It binds the empire's fate. The First Emperor forged it with blood, and its curse demands more."
Lin Han's stomach twisted. "Speak plainly, old man. What curse?"
Xun's voice dropped. "Whoever wields it rules, but at a cost. The scroll you saw in the vault, it names the price: a life for each decree it seals. Choose your allies wisely, boy."
The words hung heavy as Lin Han glanced at Mei-Ling. Her face betrayed nothing, but her hand rested near her knife. Chen and the brothers shifted, uneasy. Before anyone could speak, shouts echoed outside, boots pounding through the slum. Zhao's guards.
Lin Han shoved the seal into his tunic and kicked out the lamp. "Move!" he hissed. They slipped through a back door, weaving through Xianyang's maze of clay houses and market stalls. Mei-Ling led, her knowledge of the city's alleys keeping them ahead of the torches. At the river's edge, a skiff waited, manned by a grizzled clansman who eyed the group warily.
"Show me the seal," the clansman said. Lin Han hesitated, then held it up, its jade glinting in the moonlight. The man's eyes widened, and he nodded. "The clans will hear you. But Zhao's riders are close."
As they boarded the skiff, a crossbow bolt whistled past, grazing Chen's arm. Lin Han spun, spotting black-robed figures on the bank, Zhao's elite guards. Mei-Ling's bow snapped up, her arrow felling one, but more came, their bolts splashing into the river.
Lin Han's mind raced. The seal's weight pressed against his chest, Xun's warning echoing. A life for each decree. He looked at Mei-Ling, her face set as she fired again, and wondered if her loyalty would be the first price he'd pay. As the skiff lurched forward, a rider on the bank raised a horn, its wail signaling something worse than guards: Zhao himself was coming.