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Yes.
A tangle of ideas weave into the shambles of a plan. I clasp my hands and bow to the Moon Dragon. “Would you give me your blood, Great One? I would only risk bringing the starfire to the Queen of the Iron Mountains for a chance to destroy it. But if I fail… I will have doomed us all.”
Are you sure this is the path you wish to undertake?
I shake my head. “I am afraid I’ll falter, that I won’t be enough… yet I must try.”
When the night is bleak, a single spark marks the difference between light and dark. If one does not fight, one has already lost.
The Moon Dragon plucks two shining scales from her body, pressing them together to form a silvery locket with a chain. Her claws curl as she punctures her front paw, her blood trickling forth, a fiery shade dusted with iridescence—almost identical to the Sun Dragon’s in appearance. The blood slips into the locket, the dragon sealing it and handing it to me, as I clasp the cold chain around my neck.
Place the starfire upon the locket.
I do as asked—the starfire sinking into the silvery surface as though welded, its dazzling radiance now muted as if coated with dust. As the dragon releases the locket, it falls against my skin, searing me.
The starfire is bonded to you until midnight tomorrow—I cannot subdue its power for longer. Until then, no one can seize the starfire from you by force. A pause. The fate of the realms lies in your hands.
I bow to the dragon in thanks—the weight of her trust snapping around me like a collar. But I think of my choice not so long ago, whether to accept my ring from the Little Dragon in the Iron Mountains. If I’d shied from danger then to choose the safe path, I would never have found my family, and Jin would remain a stranger after our chance encounter. How empty my life would have been.
Where will you go now? the dragon asks.
“To the Iron Mountains.”
The gaze that she turns to me is solemn. I wish you luck, Daughter of Mist Island. And I hope we will meet again.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
DIAN LEFT THE LOTUS BY THE SECLUDED SHORE SHE brought me to once. The Moon Dragon masked my presence from the searching soldiers, keeping watch until I was safely out of their reach. This is the first time I’m traveling across the ocean alone, the solitude unnerving, surrounded by the rush of water. The glowing seagrasses are soon left behind, leaving just the dark waves roiling beneath, fracturing the moonlight into shards of oily luminescence.
At last, the lights of Thorn Valley flicker on the horizon, the familiar ones of the pier. As I draw closer, several soldiers approach.
“Does Lord Chao know you’re here?” a burly soldier demands in a hostile voice as I step upon the pier. “We received no warning that a Mist Island visitor would deign to grace our humble shores tonight,” he says mockingly.
His friend hushes him, bowing to me apologetically. “We mean no disrespect. He doesn’t know you, but I’ve seen you with Lord Jin-Yong.”
The sound of hooves reverberates, more guards riding toward us from the manor led by Captain Hong and Shiji. Even if they loathe me for leaving Jin, relief fills me at the sight of them.
“I didn’t think you’d return,” Shiji says coldly.
“I found the elixir that will restore the Ancient Grove,” I say directly.
Captain Hong sucks in a sharp breath, then calls for a horse for me. “We will bring you there at once. Lord Jin-Yong would be grateful. The decay in our land is his greatest concern.”
We ride together toward the grove. The trees loom ahead, the thorns parting as I enter, cautiously evading those glinting red. As I pass, all the thorns close swiftly behind me.
Barred from entering, Captain Hong and Shiji halt. “The Ancient Grove forbids us. We will wait for you outside,” the captain says.
Has the corruption worsened, or is this to protect the Little Dragon? I walk into the grove tentatively, my heart thudding, my skin cold. The rose appears shrunken, its petals more shriveled. Leaves carpet the earth more thickly, the branches of the remaining Radiant Sky Tree weaving above, deeper crevices gouged along the bark. Across the ground, the withered stumps of dandelions droop amid the pale grass. My nightmare come to life.
The Little Dragon’s bones are where I left them, the shining oval beneath the tree. As I approach, it gleams. You have returned.
“I have the cure to heal the grove.” I hold out the porcelain bottle seized from Lord Hairong. As I pull out the stopper, a scent wafts out like spring flowers and citrus.
I am grateful. The whisper lingers.
Emotion swells in my heart. “As I am grateful for you, my friend. Because of you I have a home, my family. A future.” All of which I will fight to protect.
Carefully, I tilt the bottle over a patch of wintergrass just as I saw Lord Hairong do. A drop falls upon the white stalks, sliding into the earth. The wintergrass droops, the pale blades shriveling as they darken. Swiftly, I move between the trees, scattering more drops of the elixir—hoping there is enough—until at last, the wintergrass is gone.
