Mémère leans forward, speaks. Marianne translates: ‘You know this person?’
‘Lady Longnu is a wise and compassionate dragon king,’ Gigi says. ‘One of the oldest and most venerable creatures in existence, perhaps even older than the Cosmos itself.’
All my life I believed my father cowardly and dishonourable for abandoning my mom and me, though so much has changed now, it’s still strange to think of him in any other way, not least as a favoured friend to a dragon king.
‘My father knew a dragon king?’ Marianne whispers in awe.
‘I didn’t realise they were such good friends,’ Gigi says. Her words carry an edge to them, but she doesn’t look angry, more perplexed.
Finally, Marianne gingerly removes a battered notebook, spine torn, half its pages missing.
‘Papa’s journal,’ she says simply. ‘We received only this half five years after he left us. Usually Papa wrote his journals in shorthand but this he wrote in Chinese. We had it translated; it covers his travels to Yunnan and meeting your mother...’ Marianne’s grip on the journal tightens ever so slightly. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to let it go, but after a slow exhale, she slides the journal across the table. To me.
Maximilien tracks it with a narrowed gaze.
I have memories of my mother – the sound of her voice, her warmth when she held me. Her personality, things she liked, things she didn’t. But my father has always been a negative space – an absence. I know nothing of his personality, his thoughts, or his view of the world. But in these pages, written in his own hand, is a chance to know him, at least a little. The journal seems oddly light given the weight of expectation it carries. I don’t open it, but tuck it safely into my pocket, to read when I’m feeling braver.
Maximilien slams his hand on the table, making us all jump. ‘Elle n’a pas le droit!’
Mémère speaks, slow and deliberate. Maximilien rears back, like he’s been slapped. His cheeks are red and blotchy, and his eyes shimmer with blood. With a screech of wood on wood, he shoves out of his chair and mists from the room.
Mémère bows her head and briefly closes her eyes. Her words are a low rumble before she disappears in a shimmer of mist.
‘Contain Maximilien’s ill-temper,’ Marianne translates through clenched teeth. ‘Please excuse my grandmother, she has things to discuss with my brother.’
Twenty-Five
????,????
With Maximilien gone, the oppressive atmosphere in the room lightens. We unfold the concertina pages of Lady Longnu’s letter and lay it flat on the table. The letter is dated the 24th of the Osmanthus month when Jupiter was in the Bright Moon Wind and Luminous Sun. I count the years on my fingers.
‘1834,’ Gigi says, confirming my calculations.
‘The year before my father met my mother,’ I say, my hand curling possessively around the notebook in my pocket.
Lady Longnu’s calligraphy has a bold vivacity, with confident flourishes and clean, precise, strokes. Her language is poetic, but direct. Surprising, as I thought she might enjoy the circular riddles of her cousin, Lord Black. Her obvious affection for my father is evident in the warmth in her tone and the way she asks after his health and family.
In the letter, she reminds my father of his long ago oath to visit her ancestral home, Likiang, and insists he must not leave his promises unfulfilled. So Lady Longnu was the reason my father went to the Jade Dragon Snow Mountain range. Not what I expected.
Lord Black once told me Lady Longnu sees far. Did she send my father to Likiang knowing he would meet my mother? I wish my dratted dragon pearl worked – I could blink myself to Lord Black’s home and make him ask Lady Longnu what she knows. No wonder my father was able to travel so far inland, all the way to Yunnan, without being troubled by Qing officials. With a dragon king behind him, no one would dare interfere.
There’s a detailed list of required clothing and documents for his travel. I turn the letter around but there are no extra papers tucked anywhere.
On the last page, I laugh at Lady Longnu’s exhortation that my fatherEmbrace the Cosmos and the Way will be clear. The dragon kings love their esoteric mumbo jumbo.
But the lines that follow choke the laughter in my throat.
In honour of this fine wine that is our friendship, do not turn your face mercilessly away but allow this humble dragon to labour your procession: Spend one month in Likiang. After that, if your heart still desires eternal sleep, I shall honour your request and be by your side to wish you a final farewell.
Twenty-Six
The Letter
Marianne watches her half-sister read the dragon king’s letter. When she isn’t trying to hide her emotions, her sister is incredibly expressive. Surprise, mirth, exasperation dance in Jing’s eyes as she reads the letter laid out on the table. Even the way Jing laughs resembles their Papa.
But mid-laugh, Jing blanches and her gaze takes on a glassy, faraway look. Marianne’s chest tightens. Maximilien had not wanted the Celestials to know, but Mémère overruled him, wishing to honour their trust.
Eyes shimmering with tears, Jing lifts her gaze to Marianne. There’s confusion and accusation in those dark eyes as she whispers, ‘Father wished for La Grande Morte?’
