And it was for the best, too. That rabbit was Xiu’s favorite toy, so much so that even now, years later when she’s outgrown and almost forgotten about it, Auntie Ho still hoped it would lure her spirit back.
As Mulan said those last words, a wave of sadness and fear came over her, like an icy wind. The memory of her past disgrace stung, as did the thought of her sister, rosy and happy, when now she lay in the darkness, as white and as still as death. Tears burned in Mulan’s eyes, and she was glad when the sounds of Black Wind galloping grew louder and he came to her, his black form outlined by moonlight. Hiding her tears, she avoided looking at the Rabbit and, instead, outfitted the horse with his saddle, tying her bag with the toy in it securely. Then she began to twist and knot the blanket around her waist and shoulders.
“What are you doing?” the Rabbit asked. “What’s that for?”
“It’s for you,” Mulan said, scooping up the Rabbit and placing him in the folds of her blanket. As she adjusted the sling so she could carry him on her back, she heard him make noises of disgust.
“Like a baby,” he said grumpily. “A baby!”
Mulan grinned to herself as she climbed up on Black Wind. The moon’s splendor overflowed onto Earth, brightening it almost to daylight.
“Which way?” Mulan asked the Rabbit.
“Since I am stuck in this shape,” the Rabbit said, still grumbling, “we’ll need help. We can find an old friend of mine in the City of Rushing Water.”
“The City of Rushing Water?” Mulan faltered.
“You’ve heard of it?” the Rabbit said. He pushed his paw free of the sling and waved. “That way.”
“Ah, yes,” Mulan said, not willing to admit that she had heard of it only as a place so far away that it was rumored to have a different sky. She clicked at Black Wind to start him moving. “It’s quite a distance.”
“Yes,” the Rabbit said as Black Wind galloped. The land was soaked with moonlight and their figures swooped across it like shadow puppets pulled by an unseen master. “That is why we are leaving now.”
THE NIGHTS and days melted into each other. Black Wind seemed to fly, galloping so quickly and effortlessly across the earth that Mulan suspected that it was the Rabbit’s manipulations. Rice terraces, the stacked layers of land jutting out like a dragon’s backbone, made way to jagged mountains softened by greenery. They passed small villages and the huts of friendly farmers, all left curious by the vague answers given by the girl traveling with her pet (which further irritated the Rabbit and amused Mulan). Then, to Mulan’s awe, the landscape brightened as trees turned coral and amber. Fan-shaped leaves fluttered around her like golden butterflies and the pounding of Black Wind’s hooves was quieted by the tree-created carpets.
They rode deep into the night and then rose at sunrise to ride again. As Mulan traveled through lands she had never seen before, she began to think about Ba’s old stories of when he was a warrior, traveling through the empire to help defeat the evil Emperor Zhou and fight the Rouran invaders. He would have raced through these same fields and passed these same trees. How magnificent Ba must have been! A great warrior who had brought such honor to their ancestors. Mulan felt a wistful guilt. If only she could do the same.
The air chilled, and one evening, as the sky was beginning to bid a somber goodbye to the sun, Mulan found herself shivering.
“You’re cold,” the Rabbit said in Mulan’s ear. “We should stop.”
They were traveling on a little-used forest path, and Mulan slowed Black Wind in a small clearing. She got off the horse and helped the Rabbit wiggle out of the pouch.
“It’s colder in this area,” the Rabbit said. “We should make a fire. It’s not good for a mortal like you to get chilled.”
Mulan nodded, her teeth beginning to chatter slightly.
“Go get some wood,” the Rabbit said, reaching for his bag. “I’ll make you something that will help.”
Mulan nodded again, wrapped the blanket around her shoulders, and left the Rabbit rummaging in his bag with Black Wind supervising. She wandered into the light-dappled forest, searching for fallen branches among the fallen leaves. The leaves crunched under her feet, making a crisp, welcoming sound, but dry sticks were surprisingly rare, and Mulan meandered from tree to tree like a hungry sparrow looking for seeds.
She was getting colder and colder and beginning to despair of ever finding enough wood for a fire when a sunbeam temporarily blinded her. Mulan shaded her eyes and then saw that a stream of light, a glistening radiance slipping through the rampart of trees, was creating a path. On the ground in front of her, a stretch of leaves was lit by the sun like unrolled yellow silk. The air shimmered, the curtain created by the dying sun glittering and beckoning. Mulan could not help following.
It led her to an enclosure of trees. Bending tree trunks and gnarled branches had grown and twisted together, making an arched, glowing doorway. Mulan peeked in and then gasped.
There, in the center of the glade of trees, stood the most beautiful woman Mulan had ever seen. She was as exquisite as if she had been carved of jade, her face as delicate and as fine as a flower petal, and her black hair floating gently like a cloud. Her white robes flowed around her, waves of silk billowing. The brilliance of the sun cascaded down upon her, and her eyes sparkled as she saw Mulan.
“Hello,” the fairylike creature said as if expecting her, her cherry lips curving into a smile.
Mulan stood silent for a moment, dumbfounded. She herself had given up on trying to be pretty long ago. “You always look like a wild crow, Mulan!” Ma would say when Mulan rushed into the house, her hair flying. She was so different from Xiu, whose hair was always smooth silk neatly framing her gentle face. Everyone in the village, including Mulan, admired Xiu, but even Xiu was a common blade of grass next to the lotus-flower face of this woman. Truly, no mortal, no normal person could be so incredibly lovely. Mulan threw herself onto the ground in a humble kowtow. This must be some sort of Immortal or goddess! What else could she be? As Mulan prostrated herself, she heard the woman laugh, a tinkly sound like the ringing of tiny bells.
“Stand up, child,” the lady said. Mulan pushed herself up, feeling like a scrubby chicken as she tried to brush away the leaves clinging to her clothes and hair. “But you’re not a child, are you?” the woman continued. “You’re almost a young woman. Now, who do you think I am?”
Mulan gawked, her mind racing through names of fairies and goddesses. Who could she be? Who would be this beautiful and smile at her with such delight, as if actually pleased to see someone so graceless and gawky? Mulan realized she had never seen anyone look at her with such delight and approval. Even Ba, with his loving smiles, always looked at her with a shadow of worry.
The graceful being laughed again. “Well, you may not know who I am,” the woman said. Her voice was like the strumming of a zither, lulling and smooth. “But I know who you are.”
Mulan stared as if her tongue had been broken. Her eyes could only widen in wonder as a response.
“Yes, Mulan.” The woman smiled, revealing her small teeth, like pearly pomegranate seeds. “And I know you are traveling with the Rabbit to save your sister.”