“Why are you here?” Mulan asked. She felt like a pot of water put to boil, her words and ideas bubbling over. “Why were you pretending to be a healer?”
“I am a healer,” the Rabbit said. “You see me working with a mortar and pestle when you look up at the moon, right? I’ve been mixing medicines for centuries. The Moon Lady often sends me to Earth to cure the sick and dying.”
“So, you come to Earth,” Mulan said, her thoughts connecting like stars in a constellation, “and transform into the Healer—”
“Not just the Healer,” the Rabbit interrupted. “I take other forms as well.”
“And you cure people!” said Mulan, too excited to acknowledge the Rabbit’s words. “Like Xiu! You’re here to save her.”
The Rabbit did not answer. When Mulan looked at him, she saw that he was looking intently away, and a cold dread began to creep into her.
“You…you are going to save her, right?” Mulan said, her voice squeaking in the night air.
The Rabbit finally met Mulan’s eyes. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can.”
“WHAT?” MULAN said, her voice rising. She pushed herself forward, her hands pressing into the ground. “What do you mean you can’t save
her?”
“Your sister was bitten by the nine-legged spider,” the Rabbit said, meeting Mulan’s eyes directly. “That means she is dying of hupo poison. To cure hupo poison, she needs to drink a decoction of Dragon Beard Grass and a freshly picked blossom of the Essence of Heavenly Majesty before the poison reaches her vitals.”
“Well, can’t you make it?” Mulan asked. “You’re a healer.”
“Of course I can make it, if I have the ingredients,” the Rabbit replied, a bit snappishly. “But I do not. While I have the Dragon Beard Grass, I do not have the Essence of Heavenly Majesty.”
“Where can you find it?” Mulan asked, jumping to her feet. She was ready to search under every rock and tree in the forest if it would save Xiu. This was her little sister! Xiu, gentle, shy Xiu, who had always looked to Mulan whenever she was scared. Mulan cringed inwardly when she thought about how she had teased her about the spiders. Xiu would forgive her, Mulan knew. That was the way Xiu was, always kindhearted and understanding. Mulan could not let anything happen to her.
“You can only find it,” he replied, and then met her eyes with a pointed gaze, “in the garden of the Queen Mother of the West.”
“Queen Mother of the West…” Mulan choked. “The Queen of the Immortals?”
The Rabbit nodded. Mulan sat back down.
“Well, you’re an Immortal,” Mulan said hopefully. “You must know how to get there. Can’t you go?”
“I was going,” the Rabbit said. “That’s why I put your village to sleep. I was just about to start when those foxes attacked.”
“But you can still go,” Mulan said. “You’re fine, now, right?”
“Unfortunately,” the Rabbit said, looking down at the four dark marks on his leg, “I am not. The wounds the fox inflicted upon me are much deeper than you see.”
“What do you mean?” Mulan said. A cloud drifted over the moon, dimming the light.
“I had planned to summon a cloud to fly to Kunlun Mountain, to the Queen Mother’s palace,” the Rabbit said. “And even then, getting the Essence of Heavenly Majesty would not have been easy. The Queen Mother tends to be protective about what is picked in her garden.”
“You can’t fly to the mountain now?” Mulan asked. More clouds gathered in front of the moon, making the Rabbit into a small, silver-lined silhouette.
“No,” the Rabbit said. “As I told you, that was no ordinary fox. Her attack has all but destroyed my powers. I cannot even change forms now, and I cannot reach Kunlun Mountain as a rabbit.”
“Yes, you can!” Mulan said, sitting up straight. “I can take you! We can ride on Black Wind.”
Mulan stuck up her chin, bracing herself for another amused look from the Rabbit. But instead, the Rabbit was frowning.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No.”
“Why not?” Mulan asked stubbornly. “Black Wind is the fastest and strongest horse of all the villages here. We could get you to Kunlun Mountain almost as fast as your cloud!”
“It’s not just the distance,” the Rabbit said. “The White Fox…It’s not a good idea.”
“What other ideas are there?” Mulan said, feeling desperate. She remembered how Xiu had clung to her before she’d fallen unconscious. Oh, Mulan! Xiu had cried out, a beseeching plea for help. And now the Rabbit said there was poison eating away at her. Mulan knew they had to do this. There was no time to waste. “How else can we save Xiu?”
The clouds in front of the moon thinned. Mulan could see the Rabbit staring past her, up at the moon, his face troubled and slightly confused. He shook his head again.
“It would be a mistake to bring a mortal again,” he said, mostly to himself. “Last time…”
“You can!” Mulan said. She knew her insistence was too brazen for a young girl and she could almost hear both Ma and Ba admonishing her, but she couldn’t stop. This was too important. “If you don’t let me take you,” Mulan said, her words cracking, “what will happen to Xiu?”
The Rabbit met Mulan’s eyes again. The moon finally pushed through the clouds, and its light swept down upon them both.
“Very well,” he said. “It seems I have no other choice. The only way to save your sister is to have you come with me. You’d best go gather your things for the journey, for we should leave as soon as possible.”
Mulan nodded, feeling as if she were full of chicken blood—a mixture of relief, excitement, and fear simmering inside her.
“When will the poison reach Xiu’s vitals?” Mulan asked, standing up. “When do we have to have the plant by before it’s too late… ?” Her voice trailed off and Mulan swallowed.
The Rabbit looked upward. The moon was in her full glory, a luminous pearl on black silk. “We must have the Essence of Heavenly Majesty in our hands before the night of the new moon,” he said. “We have until then.”
IT WAS not easy for her to attack the Rabbit. Of course she remembered him. How long ago was it? The sea had turned to mulberry fields, but she had not forgotten. She had been such a child then. So naive, so foolish. She had still believed that there was a place for her somewhere, a place where people would not look at her with narrowed eyes as if disgusted to live under the same sky. Or worse, cringe away as if expecting her to swallow them whole.
The Rabbit had done neither of those things, she recalled.
“Let me come!” she had said to him. “I can help!”
He had looked at her with those amber eyes that seemed to pierce into her. His expression was one that she had never seen before, at least not directed toward her. She had not quite understood it. But when he had nodded his head in agreement, she had pushed away all discomfort and questions.
She had been so eager to leave, to leave the place where she was unwanted. She had filled her head with dreams of returning as a hero, of her mother embracing her with gratitude, of her family and villagers clamoring around her with joy. She had thought going with the Rabbit would bring her that.