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Once he leaves, Dian comes to my room, closing the door with a grim expression. “Why was a firefly from Thorn Valley here? Did Lord Jin-Yong send you a message?”
An instinctive lie springs to my lips. But she deserves better. “Back in the palace, when he saved us—I made a promise to him.”
Fury blazes in her eyes. “What was it?”
“To come to Thorn Valley to help his people. He says magic helps stem the decay there—”
“He would have saved you without any promise or favor,” she counters. “I saw him when you were trapped in the Palace of Nine Hills, he would have done anything to set you free.”
Reckless, on the brink of stupidity, she’d said.
“Then you know Jin isn’t just using me, you know his feelings are real.”
“Yes,” she admits grudgingly. “But he can’t be trusted, he can be ruthless even to himself. I don’t want him to cleave you away from us when we just got you back.”
“My eyes are open,” I assure her. “I won’t let anyone use me, whether the Lord of Thorn Valley or the Prince of the Iron Mountains. Nor will I let them take me away. Here is my home. You and Father are my family.” A cord wraps around my heart, strengthened over these weeks, braided with small moments and shared memories. “But I owe Jin this; he helped me save Prince Zixin, the only way to get your ring back.”
“You did this… for me?” she asks slowly.
“You were only caught because of me.” I take Dian’s hand, brushing my thumb across the band. “Family doesn’t count debts. We show up when it matters.”
“Let me go to Lord Jin-Yong in your place,” she suggests. “He can’t manipulate me into giving more than was promised.”
I hesitate, tempted. But I want to see him again. “I pay my own debts, Sister. Don’t try to stop me. It would be easier to lie to you, but I don’t want to.”
She gnaws her lip as if suppressing another protest. At last, she drops her head. “Be careful. If you’re not back by breakfast, I’ll come to get you.” Warning slithers in her tone. “Tell him that if he tries to keep you.”
After she leaves, I sit on my bed. All is dark, growing still as I wait—at last, sensing the echo of a flutter, I extend my palm. The firefly darts from its hiding place to land upon it, its translucent wings quivering.
“Your timing could not be worse,” I whisper to the creature, bringing it to my face. “But I don’t blame you, I blame your master.”
A silvery sheen glazes its eyes in seeming agreement. Without warning it takes flight, hovering in the doorway, its wings fluttering at an urgent pace. Out of caution, I slide a dagger through my sash. Then I slip from my room, keeping my tread soft to avoid waking the others.
Downstairs, our house feels abandoned. The warmth of the gathering has dissipated like embers gone cold. Outside, the firefly loops gracefully through the night, leading me deeper into the woods—northward, toward the forests ringed by mountains. Lights flicker from the hilltops behind, the scholars studying the constellations for any sign of the Waterfall of Eternal Night. Is Shenming among them? Fortunately, we head farther away, though the path grows steeper and more overgrown, like it’s been claimed by the wilderness.
My pulse quickens with each step. Ahead loom the cliffs submerged in mist—the Cloud Ridge that Shenming mentioned, the peaks enveloped in fog.
“How does Jin expect me to travel to Thorn Valley?” I whisper to the firefly, unsure whether it understands me. “I can’t fly. I can’t summon the lotuses. Without them, the seagrass would pull me under.”
The firefly darts in a circle around me in response. Left with little choice, I follow the creature, the fog growing denser. Holding up my hand, I can barely make out my fingers as I stumble along the uneven path. My fear of discovery recedes, the place deserted. Climbing upward now, the incline grows steeper. I’m beginning to regret not changing my dress, afraid of snagging it on the branches that protrude without warning from the fog. Vanity prodded me to keep it on, wanting Jin to see me this way after weeks apart.
The air grows cooler. From here, I can no longer make out the lights from the other peaks, nothing in sight but a sea of clouds. The path ends abruptly at the edge of a steep cliff. I recoil at once—uncertain. A brightness flares, muted by the fog, a soft humming threading the air. Fireflies, countless ones spiraling around me, spreading wide to form a net.
The one that led me here darts onward. My blood goes cold as I take a step forward, then another—cursing myself for coming out here, trusting a creature I can’t understand. Above all, for answering the summons of the wretched Lord of Thorn Valley.
The fireflies cluster closer, the weave they form in the net tightening. My nails cut into my palms—as the fireflies swoop beneath my feet, lifting me off the ground, into the air. My insides wrench as my skirt flutters wildly, my hair torn from its coils. I clutch my hairpin, afraid to lose it. The urge to retch rises, terror engulfing me a hundred times worse than floating on the lotus. I want to shut my eyes—but if danger lurks on the horizon I want to know. I want to fight.
Finally, the fireflies dip downward, their light dimmed, the thick fog concealing them from sight. We travel this way until the mist begins to dissipate, until I can see the ocean beneath, gleaming with trails of seagrass that wait to snare me should I fall. At last, the seagrass dwindles, the waters going dark—and something peeks through the mist: a small wooden boat rocking on the waves.
A man sits within holding a pair of oars, the wind tossing his hair with reckless abandon, the eyes turned up to me amber bright.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JIN ROWS SWIFTLY TOWARD ME, JUST AS THE NET OF FIREFLIES beneath scatters. Dropped lower, my heart hurtles into my throat as I fall—
He catches me, pulling me close, my breathing ragged from terror. A rush of sensations floods me: his scent of rain-drenched grass, the familiar strength of his grip as his heart thuds against mine. When I draw away, his hands tighten.
“Since you left, I’ve dreamed of this,” he says quietly. “Let it last a moment longer.”
