They both nod at me and run off, corralling the fighting candidates. There are only a handful left who have survivedthe Kingdom of Night’s attack. I turn away from the bodies littering the ground and focus on the path ahead.
“Everyone’s here, Àn’ying,” Tán’mù pants. Lì’líng has returned to her fox form; she gives a little yip of approval.
My heart tightens as I scan the group. There are about twelve of us left, a fraction of the forty-four who came here seeking shelter, safety, and a better life.
Hào’yáng nods at me. His sword gleams as he angles it and turns to the candidates. “Stick together,” he calls. “We’ll follow Àn’ying and Meadowsweet. Form a tight circle and fight any mó that try to attack.”
“Everyone here can walk on water, right?” I ask, and receive nods from the candidates. “Good. You’ll need to.”
As the candidates cluster together into formation, I ready my blades and step up next to Hào’yáng. “Stay with me,” I say.
“Lead the way,” he replies, falling into step by my side.
We break into a run. Though the battle largely takes place near the Hall of Radiant Sun, the Temple of Dawn has become overrun with mó roaming its grounds. Several charge our group; together, with Meadowsweet, we fend them off.
The Celestial Gardens are dark tonight. Branches cast shadows like claws, scratching the fabric of my clothes as we pass. I know I’m going the right way when clouds begin to seep into the grass as we near the edge of the island. The sound of running water emerges between the trees, and when we round a great willow, I see the waterfall…and the open gate.
I remember the last time I was here, with Yù’chén. How his hands wrapped around me, how he led me in a dance across a midnight sea.
How everything was a lie.
It’s deserted here; my guess was true. The demon army isclosing in on the Hall of Radiant Sun, leaving the perimeters of the Temple of Dawn deserted.
The candidates gather between the willows. The rippling, iridescent wards rise into the skies ahead; before us, glowing and too bright, are the scorpion lilies that form an open archway leading to an entire other realm.
“What is that?” Hào’yáng asks quietly. The blossoms reflect a harsh red light on his face.
I swallow. “Dark magic.” My voice is barely a whisper.
He looks at me but doesn’t question me. If he knows that I have betrayed his trust with this secret, he says nothing.
“That gate opens into the ocean below, to the mortal realm,” I tell everyone. “It isn’t far from land. You’ll have to jump.”
“I will fly down first,”Meadowsweet says, her voice echoing.“I await you all below.”She splashes into the river, her serpentine body rippling. Then, almost as though she is part of the water, she slithers forward and vanishes over the edge.
“Àn’ying and I will go last,” Hào’yáng tells the waiting candidates, “to make sure everyone gets through safely. Who is first?”
“We are,” comes a crisp, sweet voice. From between the trees, Lì’líng steps forward, her hand tightly clasped in Tán’mù’s. She glances at the other girl, and her eyes light up and soften at the same time. “Together.”
Tán’mù nods. “Together. See you on the other side, Àn’ying.”
“May the winds be with you,” I reply.
My heart is in my throat as I watch my friends wade to the edge of the waterfall. In the darkness, I imagine a third person by their side, his shock of white hair shifting into the feathersof a white heron or the scales of a carp. I think of his easy grin, how his green eyes never lost their light, even given his past. Perhaps it is those who have experienced darkness who can shine brightest.
Still holding hands, Lì’líng and Tán’mù cast one more glance back at me. An errant wind stirs their hair, Lì’líng’s white dress, and Tán’mù’s black robes.
Then they turn, leap—and vanish.
The rest of the candidates go, in pairs or threes, and soon, only Hào’yáng and I remain. He looks at me, then back at the embattled temple. There is a glint of grief at the edge of his lips that only the moonlight can draw out. He moves and it’s gone, and he’s sheathing his sword and turning to me.
Hào’yáng holds out his hands to me. “Together,” he says softly.
I reach for him. Our fingers interlock, and as he pulls me toward him, I think of my jade pendant, of how my path has always led to him.
“Together,” I echo.
We step to the edge of the waterfall—and that is when I sense the presence behind us.
