“Our empress has too much fire in her. Those from the Phoenix Kingdom have such hot tempers,” she remarked.
“Phoenix Kingdom? Isn’t she a Celestial?”
She shook her head, casting a furtive look around. Minyi was privy to the stories and gossip from the many attendants who visited the kitchen. It was a simple matter to trade a delicacy for the latest news and in the evenings, a cup of wine loosened even the stiffest tongues. And the one thing she loved more than collecting gossip was sharing it with her friends.
“Before she wed the emperor, Her Celestial Majesty was a princess of the Phoenix Kingdom. She was not so ill-humored at first, but her disposition worsened after the death of her beloved kin.”
It was the first I had heard of it. I did not think it possible, yet pity flared in me at the thought of her loss. “What happened to them?”
Minyi’s face clouded over. “A tragic tale. The empress is a relation of Lady Xihe, the sun goddess who dwells in the Fragrant Mulberry Grove in the eastern sky. Lady Xihe had ten children whom she used to take upon her phoenix-drawn chariot—one at a time—to ride across the heavens. Her children were powerful creatures of pure light and heat, revered as the sun in the mortal world.”
I went cold inside. “Ten children? Ten suns? The kin of the Celestial Empress?”
Minyi stirred a simmering pot of noodles, thankfully oblivious to my mounting distress. “The phoenixes are a close relation of the three-legged sunbirds.”
Sunbirds. The word seared me. “What happened?” I choked out.
“Many years ago, Lady Xihe was gravely injured. To aid her, the empress sent a trusted general to the Fragrant Mulberry Grove to drive the chariot on her behalf. Only one sunbird was permitted to join him, but they disobeyed, all ten leaping into the chariot at once and flying away before the general could stop them. The sunbirds did not wish to return, soaring through the skies night and day.” Minyi paused for a moment. “It was a terrible time, of blinding light and blistering heat. The mortals suffered most, their fragile world scorched to the brink of destruction.”
She continued, “The Celestial Emperor sent messengers to reprimand the sunbirds, but they ignored them all. They were so swift, no one could catch them. The emperor might have struck them down himself, but the empress shielded them from attack. Under her protection, the sunbirds would have burned the world to a cinder—but they were finally shot down by a brave mortal.”
My father. My legs trembled. I clutched the side of the table, my elbow knocking over a bowl of yellow plums that rolled onto the floor. Avoiding a glare from an irate cook, I bent down to pick up the fruit, glad for the opportunity to hide my face. I sifted through my faded memories of the book I had read once—my father’s story as retold by the mortals. The sunbirds were said to be favored by the gods, under their protection. But the Celestial Empress’s blood relations? It was little wonder that she had sought to punish my father for slaying them.
I swallowed to moisten my parched throat. “The mortal . . . what of him?”
Minyi sprinkled chopped green chives over two bowls of noodles, then lifted them onto a tray of polished wood. Almost as an afterthought, she added a small dish of vegetables and a plate of dumplings. I suppressed the urge to grab her arm and shake the rest of the tale from her.
“Oh. The mortal’s deeds were praised by the emperor and he was rewarded with the Elixir of Immortality.”
“Wasn’t His Celestial Majesty angry with him for killing the empress’s kin?” I could not conceal the urgency in my voice.
Minyi leaned closer, speaking softer now. “It was said that the emperor might have had a hand in the sunbirds’ downfall. The mortal shot them down with an enchanted bow of ice and he wore an amulet that protected him from their fire. How could a mere mortal have obtained such treasures, much less used them without His Celestial Majesty’s blessing?”
Something jarred me. Why would the emperor do such a thing? Why didn’t he stop the sunbirds himself? Was it just to avoid a confrontation with the empress?
“What happened next?” I asked, though I feared her answer, too.
She looked up in surprise. Perhaps, she thought, that was the end of it. The world saved from ruin. The mortal rewarded for his service to the Celestial Emperor. “Lady Xihe was furious at the deaths of her children and she severed all ties with the empress. As a relation of the sun goddess, the Phoenix Queen was incensed, too. Before, there was much talk of an engagement between her daughter and His Highness, but I heard that was called off! A shame, as it would have been a most eligible match. Some gripe that Princess Fengmei is a hundred years older than His Highness. Yet those are trifling numbers for such as us.”