Page 1
CHAPTER ONE
HOME LIES ACROSS THE HORIZON, WHERE OCEAN AND cloud entwine. This moment doesn’t feel real; I’m afraid it will be snatched from me. Ahead, lotuses drift on the azure water, its warm current swirling around our ankles. When Dian raises her hand, the band of her ring gleams, and three of the larger lotuses break away to float toward us.
“These will bear us safely to Mist Island,” Dian assures Ruilin and me.
“I’ve never seen anything like these flowers back in the Amber Forest.” Ruilin’s eyes are wide with awe. “But why can’t we go by boat?”
“This is the only way to reach our island, the lotuses can only be summoned by one with our abilities. Since the attack of the soldiers that stole the Sun Dragon, Mother, and Yining, all other vessels have been forbidden.”
The fragrance of the flowers is heady and sweet. I inhale, an old memory unearthing: of running down a long bridge as I chased a gold dragon in the sky, my small legs unable to keep up. My surroundings blur until the forests of Thorn Valley loom like spears, the Iron Mountains soldiers seizing me despite my pleas. A tightness squeezes my chest as though that frightened child is still buried inside me.
“Wasn’t there a bridge? One that joined these shores?” I ask slowly.
Dian swings to me, her gaze bright. “You remember? It was crafted of stone that shimmered blue in the day and white at night. But after the Sun Dragon was lost, the Elders ordered that the bridge be destroyed. Now nothing connects us to Thorn Valley—or to the rest of the world. We are safe.”
“I’m glad,” I say with feeling. “I’m tired of running and hiding.” The new Queen of the Iron Mountains and her consort not only hunger for conquest, but for my blood.
“Yet we cannot let our guard down. The magic of our island is waning since the dragon was taken.” Dian’s expression is somber, her breathing unsteady as she shifts the creature in her arms—heavy despite his shrunken form. I lean forward, unslinging him from her shoulder, to fasten around mine.
“You are tired, Dian. Let me carry him.”
“Thank you, Sister.” She nods. “I’ll never forgive the vile Prince of the Iron Mountains for what he did to the Sun Dragon. We should have cut his throat instead of helping him escape.”
An unsettling reminder that Prince Zixin is in Thorn Valley. “He helped us get away,” I remind her. “I gave him my word.”
“And it’s better he remains a captive, a hostage. Alive,” Ruilin adds, not liking it when Dian threatens violence. “What good would killing the prince do?”
“It would make me feel better.” Dian rubs her finger, the skin still raw from where the soldiers tore her ring off. “Lord Jin-Yong better not let him escape.”
“He won’t.” Unbidden, Jin’s amber eyes flash through my mind, along with the way his black hair frames his face. But I cast the image aside, anger stirring at the promise he compelled me to make.
Help me restore Thorn Valley. We have need of the magic that was denied to us.
Dian’s forehead furrows. “You sound very sure of the Lord of Thorn Valley.”
“I’ve spent a fair amount of time with him. I know what he’s capable of.” Devious and ruthless.
“With him, your gaze is clouded,” she remarks bitingly. “It’s best to keep your ‘friendship’ a secret when we arrive home. Our people won’t look well upon a close relationship with Lord Jin-Yong. More so the Prince of the Iron Mountains, whom you kissed,” she adds with a shudder.
My eyes narrow; I’m trying to forget the ripple of desire he’d kindled. It meant nothing, just that he was well-practiced. “I did it to save the Sun Dragon. You told me a kiss from a flower spirit could cure any poison. It was either you or me, Sister.”
Dian’s mouth curls in revulsion, though her tone lightens. “Was that the only reason you did it?” She tugs the red sleeve of my wedding clothes, those forced on me. “What will Father say when he learns he almost gained a son-in-law?”
A flush creeps over me. This is not how I want to return home. At once, Dian unfastens her cloak, draping it over me, tucking my wretched dress beneath.
“Sisters can be annoying, but we watch out for each other,” she says quietly.
A warmth lodges in my chest. “You do both effortlessly.”
Dian laughs as she steps upon a lotus, helping Ruilin next to her. The one I clamber upon is satiny, almost fragile. I’m afraid it will tip over, but an unseen force steadies me like I’m sheathed in a column of air. As Dian raises her hand, the lotuses glide swiftly across the water. The mist winds around, enveloping us like a cloud; I can barely make out Ruilin and Dian ahead. Yet I’m not afraid. This ocean, the scent of the breeze… they are as familiar to me as the smell of mud and grass by the pond in the Iron Mountains. I know this place, not by memory—but something more profound, marked from within.
We travel a long way until the shores of Thorn Valley recede from sight. The water has darkened to a deep sapphire, yet bright green streaks undulate beneath like luminous seaweed.
“Be careful of the seagrasses,” Dian cautions. “They protect our island from intruders and will drag down anything not upon the lotuses, whether boat or person.”
I shiver as the sun slips behind a cloud, shadows falling longer. In the distance, something gleams: the ruins of a bridge crafted of blue stone, arching above the waves into the mist beyond.
As we draw closer, footsteps reach my ears alongside muffled voices. The lotuses halt by a flight of rough steps carved into the stone of the ruined bridge, ascending to a path with a metal gate at the end—the only passage to the island, ringed by towering cliffs all around.
