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I held it out to him, the jade bow lying across my upturned palms. “Father, is this yours?” Regret coiled in my stomach; I did not realize how attached I had grown to it.

A brief hesitation, before he pushed it away. The bow stilled, its light fading. “It is yours now. I have grown accustomed to mine; we have been through much together.”

Relief—selfish and shallow—trickled through me as I lowered my hands. “Father, how did you end up in the Mortal Realm?”

A dangerous gleam sparked in his eyes. “The Celestial Emperor had long coveted the dragons’ might. Maybe he was unaware of the constraints on their power, that they would die if he turned them into instruments of war. Maybe he didn’t care. He was wary of me, though I gave him no cause, for I had no ambitions to rule as he did.”

Dread traced its spidery touch along my skin. Another entanglement between Liwei’s family and mine. Would we ever be free of them?

My father rubbed his fingertips against his brow. “The emperor summoned me. He brought forth the most respected elders in the kingdom, who swore the Mortal Realm faced a grave threat and that only I could save them.”

“The sunbirds,” I said slowly. “They were the cherished kin of the Celestial Empress. I thought the emperor allowed them to roam free to avoid angering her, but what if this was his ploy to trap and weaken you? To seize the might of the dragons?”

He nodded. “Such schemes would fit his nature, both cunning and grasping.”

“Why did you believe him, knowing what you did?” I asked.

“Fool that I was, I did not ask too many questions—my pride stroked at so noble a cause. I believed those respectable Celestials who told me that to protect the mortals, I had to become one of them. Perhaps the emperor tricked them too—there is no better liar than those convinced they speak the truth. The emperor vowed he would protect me, that he would grant me the elixir once I fulfilled this quest. A sacred and unbreakable oath, sworn upon his honor and the lives of his descendants.”

He drew a heavy breath before continuing, “And so, I accepted. I returned the pearls to the dragons—the last thing I did before drinking the tea of oblivion, which erased my memories before I was cast down to the Mortal Realm.”

“How do you remember this if you drank the tea of oblivion?” I asked.

“A drop of elixir remained in the bottle. After your mother left, I swallowed it—though sometimes I wished I had not. It’s no blessing to have such memories restored. Rage and grief are pitiless beasts that devour the heart and mind.”

Something jarred me. “The dragons’ ruler has been gone for centuries, while the sunbirds were shot down just a few decades ago.”

“That was the depth of the emperor’s deception,” he seethed. “I was sent down far too early, living one mortal life after the other. Until finally, the foretold calamity arose, the ten sunbirds taking to the skies. An immortal appeared, gifting me this bow and a jade pendant to protect me from the sunbirds’ flame. Even emperors must keep their word, especially those sworn upon the lives of their kin. Moreover, the dragons were no longer a threat to him, nor was I.”

My fingers brushed the pendant around my neck, pulling it out. It was cracked, its power gone, though I wore it out of sentimentality. He stared at it, his throat working with sudden emotion.

“I gave that to your mother. I told her it would keep her safe, but I was wrong. No amulet could have protected her from the danger which threatened her,” he said in a low voice. “The rest you’ve heard in the tales. I shot the sunbirds; I fulfilled the quest, believing myself a hero when I was the Celestial Emperor’s dupe.”

His face flushed with anger. Yet if he had not been tricked, he would never have met my mother. It was hard for me to mourn that which had given me life.

“I do not regret it,” he said firmly.

“Because of Mother?”

“Because of you both. When the emperor bestowed the elixir upon me, I thought it a magnanimous gift, ignorant of the true reason behind it. Even if I had, it would have changed nothing.”

“Except it was Mother who drank the elixir.” Had the emperor’s anger at this turn of events been a pretense to satisfy the court? Perhaps it was also to instill fear in those who thought of disobeying him. It struck me then, my father had been better protected as a mortal from the Celestial Empress’s wrath, for immortals could not strike them without just cause.

“I should not have come,” he said. “I stayed away for a while because to see your mother gave me as much pain as it did joy.”

Tendrils of unease unfurled within me. “Why did you come today?”

“I received a note. I was curious, even as I sensed something amiss. Your mother seemed different today. Restless, like she was searching for something. Caught off guard, I was careless. She saw me before I hid.”

Who had sent the note? Who had plotted for my mother to forget her duty? Wugang’s gloating face swam across my mind, his readiness in accusing my mother of treachery at the banquet. Moreover, he knew our home, where to plant the letter—he could easily have instructed one of his servants. And he was familiar with this realm, having been mortal himself. Was this an elaborate scheme to give the emperor an excuse to fault us? My throat went dry at the thought.

“Daughter, it was selfish of me, but I wanted to speak to you just once. I didn’t know if I would get another chance. Don’t tell your mother. I do not wish to cause her more grief, to have her mourn me again.”

A fit of coughing came over him, his body heaving as he pressed a piece of cloth to his mouth. When he dropped it down, it was soaked with a dark liquid. Blood. My insides wrenched tight.

“Father, are you ill?” When he did not reply, I imagined the numerous ailments that could end a mortal’s life. Taking his hand, I channeled my magic sparingly to avoid detection. While I was no healer, I possessed some minor skills. I searched his body, seeking the cause of his discomfort. Yet I could find no bone to heal, no wound to staunch. Those sicknesses bred within the body, those ingrained in the flesh, I could not heal—for immortals did not suffer them. And even if I could, I could not protect my father from the greatest threat to his life, I could not return what time had stolen … unless I restored the immortality he had lost.

“Will the emperor give you the elixir again?” I asked urgently.