The door scratched open by a tall, lean man wearing spectacles – something only someone truly wealthy could possess. He wore the same black tunic as the guards outside; Liao guessed it was their uniforms. If you did black deeds, he mused, you may as well dress the part. They were Jinnto; criminals; killers.

Opening one button of his dark fitting tunic with the flourish of one hand, the man sat across from them. “It’s been some time since a member of the imperial guard asked for my services,” he said, calm, controlled. “What do you need?”

“Keeper Gobin,” Huli said, “We seek a brew, made of a true Herb.”

The man steepled his long fingers together, partially covering his face, as if he were judging the worth of Huli’s words. “Growing true Herbs is costly and outlawed. What makes you think I can give what you seek?”

“I know the people you represent, Keeper,” Huli said. “I know nothing is far from your grasp.”

Gobin eyed Liao and Fong. “You know then, if you cross me or the people I represent, the consequences of such actions—before we continue any business here.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Of course, I’m not speaking to you, captain. I’m speaking to Prince Liao himself.” He looked directly at Liao. “Did you think you could deceive the Taorin? Who do you think manage your courtesans, your servants, your guards? Even your man Huli isn’t untouched by our influence. You’ve paid your debts, captain, but how much more will they come back? What deeds have you done that haunt your eyes? I still see them from here.”

Huli stared at Gobin, silent.

The man continued, “Speak, Prince. Tell me what you want, and perhaps with enough of your father’s coin, we can reach an agreement.”

“You know who I am?” Liao smiled back. “Yet you still insult me?”

Gobin took off his spectacles, polishing them with a handkerchief.

“I could have you killed where you stand, gongwei. But we’re civilized folk with civilized minds for ends that meet together. I hope you brought coin, for your sake.”

With trembling hands, Liao placed a small pouch on the table. He felt fear, yet rage for feeling so helpless at the man's casual threats; so useless.

Gobin waved a hand for the prince to slide the coin pouch to him. He opened it and counted the gold coins, holding one up to the light of the window. It was a small fortune in itself, enough for anyone to start a life of luxury.

“Go back to your palace, Prince. One of your courtesans will come visit you tonight. Give her a pouch such as this one, filled with Jade dust. That’s the price for your brew.”

The man asked for something kingdoms warred over, cities burned down to the last child for. Liao grimaced. “I can’t give that. Even I am elixirless.”

“Yet here you sit, and in a few hours you’ll be able to enter the Oracle’s chamber. It’s your decision, and only tonight to make our deal. Try to contact me again, and you won’t wake up the next morning.”

Hot anger flushed Liao’s face. He bit down the rush of words that wished to escape his mouth. “With everything you’ve said, what would make me think you’ll honor our bargain?”

Gobin smiled, revealing his teeth, rabid in their stark whiteness. “Because your father is dead, gongwei. The viceroys’ legions are a few day’s march away, and you’ll need every shred of power you can get to survive what’s coming.”

“You lie. My father’s the most powerful man on the continent.”

“You say that like you mean it.” Gobin smirked. “The decision is yours, the price is the same. A pouch of Jade for your brew, tonight. Or never, and wait a while. Maybe you’ll be relieved of what’s to come.”

The possibility of his father, the Emperor, dead. It meant everything in his vision would happen. It meant everything he knew would come crashing down, and burn with him. Liao felt like a cornered animal, on its last leg, destined to be slaughtered by something he couldn’t fully comprehend.