Even now, I wished to return to ignorance, to ignore my mother’s caution, to run. I had never asked for any of this, I wanted to say.
But I had. I had lusted for power, skipped my stone across the water. Before me were the ripples of that throw, spreading wider than I’d ever anticipated.
“Be careful who you trust, Meilin,” said my mother. “For the dragon does not act alone.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, frowning. “Surely he doesn’t have another vessel?”
“Not another vessel,” my mother agreed. “But you are not the only summoner in disagreement with their spirit…”
She fell silent, and now I noticed the sudden absence of sound. All activity died; humans went quiet, spirits drifted away, and even the fireflies paused in their incessant buzzing.
“You must go,” said my mother, sensing the change in the air. “Now.”
“I-I don’t know how.” I knew I needed to use my qi gong, but as of late, I had not been able to find the calm required for it.
“Remember yourself,” she said. “Remember your humanness, and you will be able to return.”
“What about you?” I asked. “How will you be able to escape him?”
“I have my ways,” she said, returning to the pond.
The tides lapped at my feet, restless and stirring. Birds shrieked as they took flight into the darkening sky. The air carried the heavy scent of an approaching monsoon, the wind hot and flecked with hints of rain.
“Hai Meilin.” I had forgotten the blistering icelike quality of Qinglong’s voice. I shivered compulsively, a trained response. “Long have you eluded me.”
I could hear the triumph in his voice, the satisfaction he would take in my inevitable surrender. The currents rose, bringing mewith them. I struggled to keep my head above the surface. He was going to drown me.
“Why do you run from me?”
“You deceived me,” I hissed, paddling frantically to keep myself afloat. “How can I trust you anymore?”
“Meilin, do not forget—you and I share the same ambitions. What I seek is no different from what you seek for yourself. To no longer be confined to the darkness, to claim true freedom without chains.”
Taken aback, I understood he was speaking of the spirit seals. Just as iron bound me, was the jade a manacle to him?
“I am going to restore the world to its former glory,” he continued, his excitement causing the waves to churn. “You cannot fathom the wonder of those days, when spirits roamed free. We were not considered demons then. We were revered as gods.”
“Revered?” I asked. “Or feared?”
But he did not hear me. “Just as you were not content in your father’s house, the darkness of the spirit realm cannot satisfy me.”
“Do you expect us to go quietly?” I asked. “The people will fight back.”
He scoffed. “Humans are weak-blooded creatures. Their only real strength lies in their numbers. Fortunately, they rarely agree on anything, so even that advantage is inaccessible to them. Once the veil falls, humans will simply turn on one another.”
“Millions will die,” I snarled, “all for the sake of your greed. The world may have been wondrous to you then, but our history remembers it as a time of chaos and suffering. We’ve just come out of one war—must you thrust us into another? Does human life mean so little to you?”
The tides rose even higher. The sea beneath me was black, as was the sky above.
“I am a dragon,” he said. Was it my imagination, or did Qinglong sound sad? “I must desire more. It is simply the way of things.”
Before I could protest, a wave tossed me under. I choked, gasping for breath. But I was in the spirit realm, I reminded myself, and breathing was but a construct here. Even though my lungs screamed for air, it was all in my mind. Qinglong could not kill me.
But why did I feel like I was dying?
Remember your humanness, Meilin. Remember what you have to live for.
“I love you.” I recalled Sky’s face in that moment, the certainty of his gaze. “I love who I am with you. You vex me. You frighten me. You challenge me. And I would have it no other way. With you by my side, I’m confident we can rebuild Anlai for the better.”
