“Did you explain?” I asked. “Surely if they knew it was to save us—”
“I dared not. The empress seemed hostile, as though she bore some grudge against your father. She even accused him of ingratitude for spurning the emperor’s gift. I knew then, she had sought to punish rather than reward him for killing the sunbirds. She would not hesitate to harm you. How could I tell them of your existence? To shield you from their wrath, I kept your birth a secret. I confessed my theft. As punishment, I was exiled to the moon—an enchantment cast upon me which binds me here for eternity. I cannot leave this place, no matter how much I want to.” In a low voice, she added, “A palace you cannot escape is a prison nonetheless.”
I struggled to breathe, my chest heaving like a fish flipped out of the water. I had thought our lives so peaceful, so safe from all the dangers in my books. To learn we had incurred the wrath of the most powerful immortals in the realm shook me to my core.
“But why did the empress come today, after all this time?”
“Our auras emanate from our lifeforce, the core of our magic—those lights you see in your mind. Since you were born, we did our best to conceal your power. Despite our efforts, the empress sensed you today.”
My throat closed tight. “I didn’t know. This is all my fault.” How stupid and reckless I had been! Because I was bored I had ignored my mother’s warning, broken my promise, and hurled us into the gravest of danger.
“I am to blame, too. I told you not to reach for your magic, but I should have explained why—that it might alert the Celestial Kingdom to your presence.” She sighed. “It would have happened eventually; with every year you grow stronger. If they find you, our punishment will be severe—I have no doubt. I fear less for myself, but what they would do to you, an immortal child who was never meant to be.”
“What can we do?”
“The only thing we can. You must leave this place.”
Fear glazed my skin like ice forming over a lake. To never see my mother again . . . I was suddenly afraid to let go of her. “Can’t I stay with you? I’ll hide. Train me, so I can help.”
“We can’t. You heard the empress’s words. They will be watching us even more closely now. It’s too late.”
“Maybe you convinced them, maybe they won’t come back.” A desperate plea, a childish hope.
“I may have bought us a little time. But the empress would not have come on a whim. They will return. And soon.” Her voice thickened, clogged by emotion. “We can’t protect you. We’re not strong enough.”
“But where will I go? When will I see you again?” Each word was a blow, giving shape to the forming nightmare.
“Ping’er will bring you to her family in the Southern Sea.” She spoke brightly now, as though trying to convince us both. “I hear the ocean is beautiful. You will have a good life there, free from the cloud that hangs over us.”
Ping’er had shared with me all she knew of the lands beyond, stirring my imagination, which hungered for adventure. The great sea was divided into four domains stretching from the eastern shore to the southern ocean, from the cliffs in the west to the waters in the north. I had been transfixed by her tales of the creatures who lived in the glittering cities underwater or upon the golden shores. How I had dreamed of exploring them.
Yet never had I imagined fleeing my home to do so. What use were adventures when there was no one to share them with?
My mother’s hand closed around mine, dragging me back to the present. “You must never tell anyone who you are. The Celestial Emperor has informants everywhere. He would take your very existence as an unforgivable insult.” She spoke urgently, her eyes boring into mine until I choked out my promise to her.
Leaning toward me then, she fastened something around my neck. A gold necklace with a small jade disc. It was the color of spring leaves, with a carving of a dragon on its surface. My fingers rubbed the cool stone, feeling a thin crack in the rim.
“This belonged to your father.” Her eyes were as dark as a moonless night. “Don’t tell anyone who you are. But never forget either.”
She held me close, stroking my hair. I kept my head down—cowardly—not wanting to see her leave, wishing this moment could last forever. Her knuckles brushed my cheek once, and then there was nothing except an aching emptiness.
Sinking onto the floor, I wrapped my arms around my knees. Oh, how I wanted to scream and howl, and beat my fists against the ground. My hand flew to my mouth, muffling my hoarse sobs, but my silent tears . . . I let them stream down my face. In the single night it took the moonflower to bloom and wither, my life had been upended. My path, which had seemed a straight road, had taken a turn into the wilderness—and I was lost.
The room was dark, night had fallen. The moon was still cloaked in shadows as the lanterns had yet to be lit. Moonrise would be late in coming tonight.
Urgency jolted me into action. I did not wish to be discovered if Mother and Ping’er would be punished. While death was rarely inflicted upon immortals, the empress’s threats of lightning and fire made my body clench in terror.
Ping’er helped me wrap my belongings into a wide piece of cloth. “Not too many, and nothing too fine to avoid arousing suspicion.” Her eyes were rimmed red, but seeing my stricken expression, she added, “You’ll be safe in the Southern Sea, as well-hidden as one star in the heavens. My family will look after you and teach you all you need to know.”
She knotted the ends of the cloth together, forming a bag that she slung over my shoulder. “Shall we go?”
I did not want to. Yet numb to everything, I nodded. What else could I do? I could not even blame the vagaries of fate when it was I who had brought this upon us.
As Ping’er and I hurried through the entrance, heading east into the osmanthus forest, I glanced back, one last time. Never had my home seemed more beautiful than in this moment when I was pressing each curve, each stone into my mind. The thousand lanterns illuminated the soil, the silver roof tiles reflected the stars. And on the balcony where I had stared at the world below, there stood a slender figure in white.
My mother’s gaze was not fixed on the Mortal Realm, but on me, her fingers lifted in farewell. Ignoring Ping’er’s urgent tug on my sleeve, I sank to my knees, folding myself over to press my forehead to the soft earth. My lips moved in a silent vow: that I would return, that I would set my mother free. I did not know how, but I would try with everything that was in me. This would not be our end. As I followed Ping’er toward the cloud which would carry us away, pain struck my heart so sharp and clear—it fractured—only kept whole by a slender thread of hope.
2
I inhaled the bracing air, so fresh yet hollow without a trace of spice. As the cloud darted through the sky, I stumbled, grabbing Ping’er’s arm. How eerie the night was without the lanterns’ glow. Only this morning, fear had been a foreign emotion to me, and now I was choked with it. Fortunately, the cloud’s dewy folds did not give way beneath my feet, but was as firm as the ground—if not for the surging wind all around.
It would be a long journey to the Southern Sea—beyond the Celestial Kingdom, past the lush forests of the Phoenix Kingdom. Farther than the Golden Desert even, the vast crescent of barren sand that bordered the feared Demon Realm. How would I ever find my way home? It struck me then, perhaps they did not think I ever would.