The guards’ houses are built into the cliffs overlooking a river that reflects the stars. Its waters glitter as though threaded with silver, and lotuses drift on its surface, white and pure, illuminated every so often by the darting glow of fireflies. Clouds coil around the mountains, plumes drifting over houses with curving tiled roofs and gardens of osmanthus, willows, and waterfalls.
“That’s the River of Serene Starlight.” Hào’yáng comes to lean against the railing next to me. He hands me a cup of chrysanthemum tea. “And there’s the Hall of Radiant Sun. Beautiful, isn’t it, from a distance?”
Sure enough, through the clouds rise the familiar golden roofs and marble columns. A marble bridge extends from it toward us, mirroring the bridge that leads to the Candidates’ Courtyard. This one, though, is inlaid with goldenengravings of sun and clouds, phoenixes and dragons…and the gods.
While we mortals might worship the immortals, the immortals pray to the gods: forces of nature that rule the realms, above even the immortal Jade Emperor himself. They are so ancient that they have long dissipated into the spirit energy of our world, into the myth that is the Heavens, taking form as wind and thunder, rain and oceans, sun and moon and stars.
I ask, “How was it? Growing up in the Kingdom of Sky as a mortal?”
Hào’yáng considers my question, his eyes reflecting the River of Serene Starlight. “It was lonely,” he says at last. “I was educated with the immortal children, but they never saw me as one of them. So I trained harder and longer because I knew I couldn’t be as good as them—I had to be better.”
I study his profile in the moonlight, imagining him as a boy, thoughtful and solemn, brush poised as he writes back to the girl in the jade. Did he think of me as often as I thought of him?
“Did you ever go back to the Kingdom of Rivers?” I ask.
“I couldn’t,” he says quietly. “The immortals would not have allowed me back into their realm had I left. It killed me inside every day, knowing I was safe and comfortable here while others like me suffered.”
I think back to his apologies, to the guilt and pain in his eyes when he saw me hurt. I think I understand a little, now, of why he wished to protect me.
“Àn’ying.” Hào’yáng is looking at me, his gaze suddenly as sharp as steel. “What if I told you there is a way to fight for it?”
I search his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“When the Kingdom of Night defied the Heavenly Order and began the war against the Kingdom of Rivers, the Kingdom of Sky turned its back rather than interfere and risk its own safety. What if I told you there is a small group of immortals who wish to join the fight?”
A memory surfaces: Fú’yí’s face, fiery in the sunset.You let them know we are still alive. You show them how strong you are. And when you have learned the arts, just as your father did, you come back and win this war against the Kingdom of Night.
Bà’s note is pressed to my bodice. I feel his words as though they’re seared into my flesh.I chose to train you for a reason.
The jade pendant he gifted me…leading me here, to Hào’yáng. To this moment.
“Does this have to do with my father?” I ask.
“It has everything to do with your father,” Hào’yáng replies. “He left a path for us to fight back. He was the seed of our rebellion.”
“Yes.” The answer falls from my lips before I can think. My heart has known it all along, even if my mind has not until this very moment. “Yes, if there’s a way…of course I’ll fight, Hào’yáng.Yes.”
He looses a breath. There is something of relief, of gratitude, on his face as he leans forward, his mouth curving in a smile that makes me want to hold on to this moment forever. “Then I’ll arrange a meeting with Lady Shi’ya. She’ll fill you in on the rebellion we’ve been planning, our next steps.” It’s the first time I’ve seen him so passionate, as if, piece by piece, the cool, restrained warrior’s armor is falling away. “She taught me everything I know, Àn’ying. You’ll like her.”
“Who else is involved?” I ask.
“Immortals from all positions and factions, including two members of the Jade Emperor’s High Court. We have three members, Lady Shi’ya included, who are highly ranked and command their own armies.” Hào’yáng meets my gaze. “Forgive me, that I’ve had to be elusive. This rebellion is a secret those of us involved must guard more carefully than our own lives. There are spies everywhere, eyes sent by other political factions across the Kingdom of Sky. By those who wish to stop us.”
“Hào’yáng,” I say. “I think Yán’lù might be one of them.” Quickly, I explain how he has asked me twice who was watching over me.
Hào’yáng nods. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you, so I wouldn’t have to put you in danger. I can’t break any more rules without the rest of the Eight suspecting something. Àn’ying, promise me you’ll be careful. Focus on the trials for now.”
—
Hào’yáng escorts me back to the Candidates’ Courtyard. The change that has occurred within a single day is startling: we run into several immortal patrols in the vicinity, and guards line the moongates leading inside.
“She was with the Eight for questioning related to the trials,” Hào’yáng tells the immortals as we draw up to the entrance. I glance at him, thrown by how smooth the lie sounds, but his face betrays nothing. His usual cool, distant demeanor has returned, his hands drawn behind his waist, his shoulders thrown back.
“Captain,” the guards say, inclining their heads to let us pass.
I glance up sharply at Hào’yáng, surprise widening my eyes.Captain?I want to ask, and as though he hears my thought, he flicks a glance at me, the corners of his eyes curving up, a hint of warmth and cunning in them.How does a mortal become a captain of immortal guards?
Hào’yáng keeps a courteous distance as he inclines his head to me—but I don’t miss the way his lips curl when he meets my gaze again, as though we share a private joke.
