I count my blades as we stride from Shi’ya’s chambers. Iam down three already: Heart, I realize, I have left behind with Yù’chén.
I grit my teeth and force my thoughts away from the fact that he is alive, away from the moment I could have killed him yet my blade and my traitorous heart spoke otherwise. Away from the moment when he could have stopped me…but he didn’t.
Hào’yáng casts a last glance around Shi’ya’s chambers, now achingly empty. A look of deep sorrow passes over his face before he turns away and strides out. I, too, linger before I follow him, wondering if there were any other clues to my father’s first love that the immortal left behind in her chambers. Wondering if I’ll ever know their full story.
Meadowsweet awaits us in the courtyard beneath the flowering cherry tree in her dragon form. The legends describe dragons as taller than mountains, as long as the great rivers that wind through our lands. Meadowsweet is the size of a large horse. The way Hào’yáng treats her, as if they are partners and equals, makes me wonder how they came to find each other.
Hào’yáng glances at me as though he can read my thoughts. “Her real name is She of the Moon-Frosted Sea,” he tells me. “A mouthful, so she likes Meadowsweet.”
I slide onto the dragonhorse’s back and wrap my arms around Hào’yáng. As we soar into the clouds toward the Hall of Radiant Sun, the sounds of battle grow loud. Bright flashes of light penetrate the mist, and in the distance, I hear screams.
With awhoosh,the Sea of Clouds ends, and we are cantering above the Temple of Dawn, spiraling down toward the Candidates’ Courtyard. As we draw closer, I make out figureslocked in battle: candidates against the mó army that has slipped into our courtyard looking for easy prey.
As Meadowsweet lands, the mó draw back with hisses. The candidates nearby pause to gape at the dragonhorse in awe.
Hào’yáng grabs my hand. “We can’t take all the candidates, Àn’ying.”
“We can clear a path to the mortal realm,” I reply. “A path for them to live.”
He hesitates, glancing toward the Hall of Radiant Sun. “I have to fight.”
“No, you don’t,” I tell him.
“I’m the captain—”
“There are too many mó. The Heavenly Army is either here or on their way. One warrior in their ranks won’t make a difference.” I pause. “But you are the key to saving the Kingdom of Rivers.”
He gives me a long look.
“This isn’t your fight, Hào’yáng,” I say softly. “Your path has always led back to the mortal realm.”
The echo of his adopted mother’s words seems to settle his decision. Hào’yáng cuts an assessing look at the battle around us. “The Immortals’ Steps will be blocked,” he muses. “The mó are attacking the wards at the front of the Temple of Dawn…there’s no way we’ll all get through.”
My grip tightens on my blades, and I think of a moonlit walk, an ocean in the night. If the mó are congregating at the Hall of Radiant Sun…that might just leave us a path out.
“I know a way,” I say quietly.
Hào’yáng doesn’t question me. He only nods.
“I will help,”comes a voice like bells chiming. It’s Meadowsweet, watching us with her large brown eyes. She blows a puff of steam through her nose.
“Àn’ying!” comes a cry. I turn and my heart soars. Tán’mù charges toward me; by her side is a familiar small white fox—Lì’líng.
I shout their names; we clasp hands, and for a moment, I feel as though things will be all right.
Almost.
We have always been four. Our friend’s absence is conspicuous. I realize we will never again all be together; never again have one of those golden afternoons in the pavilion by the water, watching cherry blossoms dance in the breeze.
“Fán’xuan,” I whisper, an ache deep in my chest.
In a blink, Lì’líng is back in her human form. The sorrow on her face is heartbreaking; her wide amber eyes fill with tears, which fall like raindrops. “He’s in a better place,” she whispers, moving to twine her fingers with Tán’mù’s. “His next life will be one of joy. Of freedom, of endless blue skies and clear waters.”
Tán’mù looks away sharply. “That bastard Yán’lù,” she breathes. “I’m glad he’s dead.” Her eyes narrow. “The next time I see Yù’chén, I’ll kill him myself.”
I don’t tell her that I almost did. That I had the chance and missed it.
“Help me round up the candidates,” I say instead. “We’ll follow the dragonhorse through a gate back to the mortal realm—I know a way. This is not our battle; at least, not one we can win.”
