Biyu had always been a beautiful boy dressed in the finest of silks, with hands so gentle, he could lift a sleeping child from a cot without waking them, and a heart so pure, everything darknened around him. He had protected me for so many years, and I would fail as a sister if I didn't protect him in return.
                              
The first soldier grinned. "We've the perfect solution for that."
                              
He vanished for a while, returned with a bucket of water, and tossed the contents of the entire bucket over Biyu.
                              
Biyu jerked awake, coughing and spluttering. 
                              
"Sarna," he whispered. "Where are we?"
                              
"Heaven," the second soldier said. "Come on, sunshine. It's time for a bit o' fun."
                              
I latched onto Biyu's feet just as the soldiers seized his arms. I tried to pull him back, but the soldiers were stronger. A kick in the face made me lose my grip, and they slammed the bars back in place.
                              
"Biyu!" I shrieked. "Biyu!"
                              
His terrified screams rose from the other side of the dungeons.
                              
This wasn't an interrogation; It was torture. I screamed and rattled the bars until my hands were sore. His cries of pain diminished into soft whimpers, then died down entirely.
                              
They came for Mr. Long next. And the prideful man whom I have never heard beg my entire life was pleading for mercy.
                              
The screams of my friends echoed through the dungeons, scraping the walls. I pressed my hands against my ears, trying to block out their cries. Every wail was a cleave through my heart.
                              
They were hurting my family. Rage roared in my chest, burning my eyes, scalding my vision. It was the color of bleeding slaves, where fingers were crushed, eyes were gouged, nails were ripped, and bones were snapped. Their cries merged with the shadows of the past, ringing and ringing until I couldn't differentiate the voices. One after another, the members of Zichuan Theater were interrogated with the same questions:
                              
"Did you send the assassin?"
                              
"Why will you accomplish with the crown prince's murder?"
                              
"Who are you working with?"
                              
Of course, everyone denied involvement. And every denial resulted in excruciating pain.
                              
The torture went on for what seemed like an eternity. I clapped my hands over my ears, squeezing myself into a corner of the cell. My breath came in short gasps. My thoughts were a vice in my head, seizing my limbs and my rationality. It was a cage I couldn't break free.
                              
Colors bled together as the past superimposed upon the present.
                              
"Run!" Mama's voice cut as clear as glass through the haze of smoke rising from the village. The excited yells of the slavers surrounded us. "Take Sarna. Don't look back. We'll be alright."
                              
Zhenjin burst into my room, threw me over his shoulders, and ran.
                              
There was the musical swing of a sword. Blood spurted. I screamed and screamed as if it was the last thing I could do.
                              
Finally, they came for me. 
                              
The two soldiers tossed Biyu back into the cell and tried to grab me, but I shrieked and crawled toward the unconscious Biyu. There was an enormous gash on his left cheek, and his ever-slender fingers were covered with dark bruises. They used the finger-crusher on him. Biyu might never be able to hold a brush, or even a performing fan again.
                              
Oh, my sweet Biyu.
                              
"You wretched bison spawn!" 
                              
I lunged at the first soldier, a feral snarl ripping from my throat. I scratched and bit and punched every inch of skin I saw. The thought of Biyu's bloodied body lent me the extra burst of strength I needed. I sank my teeth into his ear and ripped it off.
                              
The soldier howled and dispatched me with a punch to the face. Blood jetted from the hole in his head, drenching his vest red. I flew into the bars and bashed my head against the door. The pain was exquisite, but the thrill of hurting one of the Imperial's soldiers filled me with so much joy, I was able to ignore it.
                              
"I'm going to kill you!" the soldier screamed. "How dare you attack a soldier of the Jade Guard?"
                              
I spat out the piece of flesh in my mouth and grinned.
                              
The second soldier, clearly taken aback, drew his sword and pointed it at me. "If you dare to move again, I'm going to cut off your hands."
                              
"We should just kill her and be done with it." The first soldier still had his hand over his ear, grimacing. "She took my ear!"
                              
I bared my bloodied teeth at him.
                              
His friend shook his head. "No. He wants her whole."
                              
"Oh, damn the High Immortals." The first soldier bound my hands together with rope and dragged me out of the dungeon.
                              
I struggled and kicked, but it was futile. I might not be able to move, but Eighteen Hells, I could yell. I cursed their ancestors. I cursed their unborn grandchildren. And I cursed that their souls would never find peace after death and would burn in all Hells. Nothing they did silenced me, not even when the second soldier tried to stick a wad of cloth into my mouth. I hissed and bit like a cat. Pooj would have been proud.
                              
We approached an old court where weeds overran the dried-up well, cracks chased itself round and round the stone floors, and the trees seemed to have eaten themselves dry. 
                              
This place looked nothing like a torture chamber. It looked more like a graveyard. Was this where they executed prisoners?
                              
The first soldier kicked open a set of doors and tossed me onto a chair. 
                              
"She's here. We did as you ordered. Now, pay up."
                              
"Most certainly." Gui stepped out of the shadows with a crossbow lifted in front of his chest. "I always keep my promises."
                              
The two soldiers turned to run, but Gui was faster. He shot the bearded soldier first, and another arrow found home in the second soldier's neck. Both of the soldiers dropped onto the ground, gurgling before they fell silent. 
                              
"Hello, Sarna." Gui smiled. "It's a pleasure to see you again.