But I don’t have to.
Hào’yáng places his palms on my cheeks and wipes the tears away. “I understand,” he says quietly, and that is all I need to hear.
We mount She of the Moon-Frosted Sea, who shoots up into the skies. Wind whistles past us as we soar beyond the raging battle, the walls of the Imperial Palace…to the glittering river encircling the city. The dragonhorse’s scales reflect on the water’s surface as we descend.
I squeeze Hào’yáng’s hand. “Go,” I urge him.
The waves of the river rise to meet him as he slides off his dragonhorse’s back. Hào’yáng steps into the tide, and the water wreathes him like a robe, lowering him to the surface of the river.
Then he sinks.
A tremor goes through the earth. Quietly, subtly, like the soft tap of a finger against a sheepskin drum. Only those paying attention will notice how the surface of the river quakes, waters breaking into thousands of little ripples; how the leaves in the surrounding trees quiver in unison. How even the clouds seem to pause.
A second tremor runs through the land, and this time, it is unmistakable: a shiver, as if the ground itself is waking.
And then the river begins to undulate, rippling across its aquamarine waters, and in the center, a vortex forms.
The waters part for Hào’yáng as he emerges, armor glinting as though it holds the sun within. The river wraps around him, giving the impression that he glides toward us on the backs of two cerulean dragons.
As he approaches, She of the Moon-Frosted Sea does something I have never seen. She dips her head, bending her forelegs as though in a deep bow.
That’s when I know.
Hào’yáng’s smile is radiant as he holds both hands out to me. I take them as I step off the dragonhorse, and then I’m standing on the backs of the waves in his arms, embracing him tightly.
They are coming,She of the Moon-Frosted Sea announces in our minds.The dragons are coming.
I follow her gaze to the distant east—the direction of the Four Seas. At first, I mistake them for undulating clouds. Yet as they draw closer, I catch the gleam of scales. The flash of talons.
They are coming to support the crowning of the emperor.
Hào’yáng and I turn to face them. In his other hand, Azure Tide’s glow pulses, growing stronger and brighter like a heartbeat, a silent call. And answering that call is the light radiating from the dozens of dragons approaching us.
They soar through the skies, scales shimmering in jewel tones of sapphire and amber, cinnabar and amethyst and jade, forming a line like a gleaming rainbow. Where they go, the air ripples, the clouds part, and plants grow from the soil, leaves turning from jade to a rich gold-red of late autumn beneath their serpentine shadows.
Hào’yáng takes my hand as we mount She of the Moon-Frosted Sea again. The dragonhorse takes off joyfully into the air, and soon, we’re flying amidst dragons, some as tall as mountains or as long as rivers, others the size of hills and streams.
In that moment, astride a dragonhorse with my boy in the jade, I am a little girl again. I am the Àn’ying of Xi’lín, needle and thread in hand, dreaming of seeing the ocean. Believing in fairy tales and the myths of old. I am her, and yet I am also the Àn’ying of now: the warrior, the fighter, provider for her family and Lotus Immortal.
On the ground, the mó army is retreating at the sight of the dragons. Throughout the battlefield, they open passageways back to their own realm—passageways that, now, can never be reopened from their side of the Kingdom of Night. Those lucky enough to escape the clutches of the immortal army and the dragons flee through them, vanishing forever from our realm.
We alight before the steps of the palace. There, still engaged in battle with several of the Eight Immortals, is Sansiran. Thepower emanating from her crackles like a storm, and even Dòng’bin is no match for her.
Hào’yáng steps forward, the sea-blue glow of Azure Tide flowing across the palace walls and grounds. Sansiran looks up—and stills.
“Demon Queen Sansiran,” Hào’yáng begins. “You have defied the Heavenly Order and waged war across the realms. Your insatiable greed has caused the suffering of so many, including your own.
“Today, the Heavens speak back. The dragons of old are here to declare their alliance with me. The gateway between our realms has closed, freeing my city of your grasp. Now I intend to take back the Kingdom of Rivers to return peace and prosperity to its peoples and its lands. Surrender and swear never again to wage war upon our realms, and we grant you amnesty and return to the Kingdom of Night. But continue…” Hào’yáng’s sword pulses with a sudden, fierce light. “Continue, and we will have no mercy.”
For the first time ever, Sansiran’s expression shows an inkling of fear. It yields quickly to fury as she bares her teeth in a snarl.“Yù’chén, come,”she calls, the power of her command ripping through the air.
But there is no one to answer.
I think of the scorpion lilies, bright and red in the sunlight; of the butterfly soaring out into blue skies.
“Yù’chén, come to me,”Sansiran repeats, her voice rising to a near-scream, perhaps to mask the fear slowly sinking into her expression. Her dark magic crashes through the crowd and surges into every corner of the Imperial Palace.
When she receives no answer from her son, realization twists the demon queen’s expression. Fury darkens the airaround her like a storm, shadows whipping in an invisible wind as she rises from the ground, flanked by her two Perils.
