I glanced at her. “Where is he from?”
“I’ve heard Captain Wenzhi is from some undistinguished family line in the Four Seas. It was no small feat for him—a foreigner—to rise through the ranks, to become the youngest captain in the Celestial Army.”
I felt a sense of shared companionship with Captain Wenzhi, knowing both of us were forging a new life for ourselves here. While he was far more capable than I, it gave me hope for my own ambitions—that an unknown could rise to prominence in the Celestial Kingdom.
Though I could not help thinking, even he had not won the Crimson Lion Talisman.
After the meal, I helped Shuxiao stack the empty dishes onto the tray. As I tried to pry the tray from her fingers, she snatched it away.
“It’s not every day you slay a legendary monster. And it doesn’t sound like Captain Wenzhi is going to go easy on you tomorrow either.” Without another word, she left the room.
Sleep eluded me that night. With an impatient sigh, I tossed off the bedcovers and left the room. Climbing onto the rooftop, I settled upon the cold jade tiles. How the solitude of night reminded me of home. The lights of the Celestial Kingdom glittered below, whose borders I now defended with my life. Would my mother feel betrayed by my new allegiance? Would she think I had forgotten her in the pursuit of power? My chest cramped at the thought. If only she knew the truth—that all I did was to win her freedom, that we might be together again.
17
I stood before General Jianyun’s desk, wondering why he had summoned me. I rarely saw him these days, since I began training with Captain Wenzhi and his troops. My gaze fixed upon the table, intricately crafted from rosewood and inlaid with mother-of-pearl in designs of bamboo, lotuses, and cranes. I did not expect such a delicate piece to adorn the office of so pragmatic a soldier. Although I reminded myself that despite his forbidding exterior, the general had shown me kindness I did not deserve. He had seen something in me before I realized it myself.
I shifted uncertainly beneath the weight of his stare, the gilded scales of my armor clinking. General Jianyun’s brows snapped together in a wordless rebuke: a good soldier did not fidget.
I stood straighter, forcing my legs to still. Did he call me here to admonish me for some offense? To lecture me on my carelessness with Xiangliu?
A glimmer of a smile formed on his lips. “For your first assignment, you did well.”
My breath came out in a rush. “Thank you, General.”
“As agreed, you may decide your next assignment. There are two in need of another recruit. One will go to the Golden Desert to harvest the rare herbs that grow there. While it borders the Demon Realm, no disturbance is expected with the peace treaty intact.”
I nodded, trying to appear enthused. I had never been to the Golden Desert, but gathering plants held little appeal. Perhaps I should have been grateful for an easier assignment after Xiangliu, except this would not gain the emperor’s attention.
“Or would you prefer to accompany Captain Wenzhi again?” General Jianyun offered. “While that is his preference, this is your choice. He will lead a troop to the Eastern Sea, whose king has called for our aid to handle recent unrest.”
My mind stirred with a fragment of a tale my mother used to tell me. Her voice, soft and melodious, as she had spoken of the Eastern Sea and . . .
“The dragons,” I whispered, so wrapped in the memory of her cool hand stroking my cheek that I inhaled instinctively—a futile attempt to capture a whiff of cinnamon-wood. A dull ache gripped me, different from the stabbing pain of heartbreak, though both awoke a longing in me for something lost.
General Jianyun tensed, a rare slip in his composure. “Dragons?”
I laughed to cover my lapse—too shrill, too loud. “Just an old fable I had heard, that the Eastern Sea was the birthplace of the dragons. Did they cause this disturbance?”
He spoke slowly, choosing his words with care. “The dragons are no longer in the Eastern Sea. No longer in the Immortal Realm.”
A dozen questions flashed through my mind. All I knew of the dragons was the story I had been told. Until now, I had believed them merely a myth, a symbol of power which the emperor seemed to favor.
Before I could speak, the general continued with a frown, “It is the merfolk, the deep-sea dwellers. They have broken the peace for the first time, ever. And while it’s just petty skirmishes for now, Captain Wenzhi is preparing for any eventuality.”
The tranquil exploration of the Golden Desert or the perils of the Eastern Sea? The stench of Xiangliu’s cave sprang into my memory, the ominous chink of its scales casting a shiver down my spine. But such was the price of the path I had chosen. And as Captain Wenzhi had said, perhaps we might find more information on the Jade Dragon Bow in the Eastern Sea.