Read Sacrifice for Free Online

the gist. “Move us in time?” The notion was horrifying somehow. Paralyzing.
    “I cannot veer far into the future. We’ve shifted a few months forward.” He said it all so offhandedly, as if he were discussing the scenery.
    “And the past?” she whispered.
    He gave a shake of his head. “Never the past. Even I cannot go back.”
    She clutched the balustrade, carved, she saw, into a lion’s head. Stone could move between time and distance and whittle away months as if it meant nothing. But then, Skybright supposed it really did mean nothing when you were immortal. She couldn’t stop measuring time as people did—as she had done her entire life—in its steady cadences, marked by the faraway gongs from Kai Sen’s monastery back on Tian Kuan Mountain, by festivals and observances. If it was truly spring already, then Zhen Ni would be turning seventeen years soon, as would Skybright. But what did birth dates matter now for her?
    Suddenly, she was filled with such homesickness that her chest felt hollow. What were Zhen Ni and Kai Sen doing, two seasons into the future? Did they still think of her, or had they moved on with their lives?
    “You are weak with hunger.” Stone touched her sleeve briefly, and she noticed that her clothing had changed, become opulent enough to befit an imperial concubine. She now wore a silk dress in the subtlest blush of pink, the collar and sleeves banded in lavender. The silk was the softest she had ever touched and reflected a sheen in the sunlight. Delicate sprays of plum blossom were embroidered on the dress, and it hugged the curves of her body, revealing more than she was used to. The fur-lined coat magically disappeared from her hands.
    Stone had changed his attire as well. Instead of his usual armor, he wore a tunic and trousers in a deep blue, decorated with silver geometric shapes along the collar and sleeves. Skybright had seen Zhen Ni’s father, a wealthy merchant, dress in a similar fashion. Stone’s warrior topknot was loosened and pulled lower, as civilian men would wear it.
    “This is the best teahouse in the province.” Stone crossed the small bridge, and Skybright followed him into the cool interior of a two-story establishment.
    The teahouse appeared to be filled almost to capacity, and they stood at the edge of the main floor. Dark columns supported the large building, and Skybright saw similar beams lining the ceiling. The banisters along the stairs and second floor balcony were carved elaborately, gilded in gold, conveying an understated opulence. Sunlight filtered through the space; bright and airy. The patrons seated at the square wooden tables were mostly men, and the few women who were present appeared to be consorts. They wore their hair unbound, something no respectable woman of virtue would do in public. Virtuous women, in fact, would have never been seen in such a place.
    The roar of the patrons dimmed slowly, as one head turned, then another, to appraise Skybright and Stone near the entrance. The men considered Stone, disguised as a rich merchant, but none had the gall to let their eyes linger, much less hold Stone’s gaze, as if they could somehow sense his power. But they were not so shy in examining Skybright. They stared blatantly, eyes roving from her face, then down her body before returning to her face once more. The drunk ones actually gawked at her.
    She had never felt more on display. Self-consciously, she raised a hand to her cheek. “They are staring at my scar,” Skybright whispered to Stone.
    “They are staring because you are stunning.”
    “They think I am a consort.”
    “No. They wish you were a consort,” he replied with a tinge of amusement.
    A stout man, his fingers laden with gold and jade rings, hustled over and led them upstairs to a quiet corner table with a lovely view of the canal and glimpses of the rest of the famous town. A server immediately set a ceramic jug of rice wine and two cups before them.
    “Bring us your