by Mary Fan
“And he’ll take his army with him.” My heart sinks. “What about the River Pearl? He’d be abandoning that too.”
“He is a viceroy, Anlei. You’ve lived here all your life, so it may be difficult for you to grasp how important appearances are to a man of his rank. No prize is worth losing face for. If it were known that he caved to a village girl’s wishes, he would never be respected by his peers again.”
“He’d let all of Dailan fall to the Ligui for the sake of his pride.”
“Exactly.” Mother places a gentle hand on my shoulder. “The question is: Would you do the same?”
I knit my brows, startled that she’d even ask. “I risk my life every night to protect our people!”
“Yet your refusal to marry the viceroy would doom Dailan to remain vulnerable.”
I drop my gaze. Though I’d be glad to fight the Ligui until my dying breath, they would claim many more lives than just my own. The viceroy’s forces could provide a hundred times the protection of our ragtag group of villagers; just one of those mechanical dragons could protect Dailan better than the entire Guard.
Viceroy Kang is offering the lives of my entire village in exchange for me—and the River Pearl. He’d have taken the pearl without my being part of the deal, but Su was right to distrust his word. A marriage alliance would seal the promise.
“But why did he have to choose me?” I wonder aloud.
Mother gives me a sad smile. “You’re a beautiful and talented young woman, and you dazzled in your performance as Warrioress. Is it really such a surprise?”
Despite everything, Mother’s praise warms my heart.
Her expression falls. “If I’d known that the viceroy was looking for a bride, I would have forbidden you and your sister from performing. But it’s too late now, and as much as I wish it weren’t so, you have a choice to make.”
A heavy feeling descends in my chest. If I don’t agree to this union, then I’ll truly be as selfish as Pinghua accused me of being. “No, I don’t. I swore I’d do anything to protect Dailan. Even if it means marrying the viceroy.”
“I’m proud of you, baobei.” She kisses my forehead. “Try to see the good in this arrangement. Even if you don’t care for the viceroy’s riches, you’ve always said you wanted to see the world. He’ll take you to his palace in Tongqiucheng, and perhaps, if he favors you, he’ll let you accompany him on his travels. You may even find in his household what you couldn’t in Dailan: friendships.”
“I have friends here!”
She gives me a patient look. “You have family and neighbors, but I don’t think you’ve ever had a true friend in Dailan—someone you trust and confide in. Am I wrong?”
Sometimes I wonder what would have happened to me if the Ligui hadn’t killed so many of our men, giving me a chance to become a warrior. As a girl, I would never have had the chance to prove my worth in battle if not for them. I’d have been pressured to marry or treated as an outcast for refusing to. I understand what traditional womanhood means to everyone else—including Mother and Pinghua and maybe Anshui—but it isn’t what I was born for. I used to think I’d grow into it; when I was younger, I’d watch older girls become wives—spending their days tending to their homes and husbands and children—and think that when I turned their age, I’d want that life too. But now that I’m seventeen and still have no interest in being a traditional wife, I realize that while it’s something I respect, it’s not something I can become without changing my very soul.
“I’ve never really belonged here,” I murmur. “Dailan is my home, but … I’ve always wanted something else.”
Mother nods. “I know. You inherited my parents’ adventurous spirits. This journey will give you a chance to expand your world—and those in it. There are only so many people in Dailan to meet. Perhaps, once you leave, you’ll learn to connect with and even love another.”
“I love plenty,” I grumble. “I love Dailan enough to marry that viceroy for them.”
“That’s different. You love your home as a whole, but not the individuals in it, apart from those you were born to. So often you treat even people you’ve known for years as if they were strangers.” She strokes my hair. “I don’t mean to criticize you. I only hope you can see this marriage not as an end to your life here, but as a beginning to a new one.”
Though I know there is wisdom in her words, I take little comfort in them. “I’ll try.”
I force myself to return to the square with Mother. Viceroy Kang sits in his chair with a deep scowl, and Headman Su paces along the platform edge, quivering with nervous energy. When he spots me, he waves his arm in an urgent, beckoning gesture.
I grit my teeth. Part of me hates him for making this deal. Yet I can’t blame him for doing what he thought he had to for the sake of Dailan. Drawing a breath, I walk up the wooden steps to the platform. Kang’s gaze flicks over me, and a satisfied smirk curls his lips. I long to punch it off his face. But though he’d let a village die for his pride, for the sake of my home, I swallow mine.
“Forgive me, Viceroy.” I drop to my knees before him, schooling my features into something humble. “I was so intimidated by your greatness, I did not know what to do when my name was called.”
“You should not have run from me.” Kang’s voice is light, and I detect mockery in his tone. “You nearly cost your village my protection.”
Though disgust coils through my stomach, I manage not to scowl.
Kang places his long, cool fingers under my chin and lifts it. His harsh eyes meet mine. “Your village headman has agreed to our union, but I want to hear it from you.”
What kind of sick game is this? It’s not enough for him to claim me … he needs me to want to be his. He probably expects me to swear unconditional loyalty and devotion to him.
Since I can’t bring myself to do that, I say, “If Dailan has your protection, then you’ll have your bride.”
Kang nods, apparently satisfied, and turns to Su. “You will be her guardian until the wedding and accompany her to Tongqiucheng. We leave at dawn.”
“Yes, Viceroy.” Su bows his head.
As I climb to my feet, I look over the platform at the faces of the villagers in the square. A myriad of expressions greet me, and I wonder what they’re feeling … maybe sympathetic to my plight, maybe puzzled as to why I ran, maybe a bit jealous. I suppose, in the eyes of some, I’ve received a great honor. I’ll be royalty, living in luxury. If only they knew how quickly I’d trade places with any one of them. Though I try to take comfort in what Mother told me, all I see in my future is a gilded cage.
It’s for my people that I do this. All of them—whether they love me or hate me or resent me. For them, I’ll play the part of a humble bride.
Even though I’d rather dive into the Courts of Hell.
CHAPTER FIVE
LADY JIANGZHU
Morning light gilds the viceroy’s dragon-shaped cruiser, brightening its bronze and red hull. As I follow Headman Su up the gangplank, I feel like I’m walking into a giant fire. Two automatons clank and whir as they walk beside me, carrying my plain, wooden trunk between them. After I’d gone home to pack yesterday, Su came by with a message from Kang saying that I didn’t need to bring anything, since he’d provide me with new clothes when I arrived in Tongqiucheng. In other words: The viceroy thinks everything you own must be garbage and has no place in his palace.
I insisted upon bringing a few things anyway. They’ll be my one connection to my home after I leave.
I glance back at the shore, where Anshui watches me with mournful eyes. She did such a good job of pretending she was happy for me yesterday, I almost believed her.
“You’re so lucky!” she said with a grin. “You’ll get beautiful clothes and servants who will comb your hair with jade! Everyone’s so jealous of you!”
I bit down bitter words and tried to play along. “I’ll be sure to write and tell you all about it.”
“Maybe your husband will let me joi
n you someday.” Anshui’s voice quivered. “I could work in the palace …”
After we went to bed, she sobbed quietly into her pillow, and it shattered me. I wanted to go over and comfort her, but what could I say? I couldn’t promise I’d be back someday, couldn’t pretend I have any choice over what will happen to me once I reach Tongqiucheng.
My life is no longer my own … I as good as belong to the viceroy.
I wrap my fingers around my jade pendant and blink back tears. I tried to give it to Anshui, but she insisted that I keep it.
“Father gave it to you, and now it’s something you can remember all of us by.” She then handed me the spectacles she’d been tinkering with. “I made them to help you see better in the dark. They’re not quite finished, but … they mostly work.”
“I love them.” I embraced her, touched. She’d spent hours working on that little device, experimenting with machinery and magic. And whether they work or not, they’re now my most precious possession beside my pendant.
As I step onto the cruiser’s deck, I pause to take one last look at my village; its sloping rooftops, the humble boats tied against the riverbank. Though part of me is excited to see Tongqiucheng, no matter how great the city turns out to be, it will never match Dailan in my heart.
“Anlei!” Su throws me a stern look. “Kuai dian. You mustn’t keep the viceroy waiting.”
I scowl but say nothing as I follow him. Viceroy Kang and his entourage boarded last night, and by the looks of things, he has no intention of coming out of his chambers to greet us.
Glancing around, I feel like I’ve just walked into a small town carried on the back of a dragon. Rectangular houses line the deck, and a large building with a red, three-tiered roof rises from the center. Colorful paint brightens its ornately carved façade, as if the whole thing is embedded with rubies and emeralds and brushed with gold leaf. I wonder if even the Emperor has a flagship so resplendent. Kang must be inside. Cyborg soldiers guard the bronze doors, and this close, I realize that their mechanical arms haven’t replaced their human ones, but instead cover them in metal casing with embedded machines.
Su leads me to one of the small houses, his mechanical foot clunking against the deck. As an automaton opens the door, he gestures for me to enter.
“This is where you’ll be staying for the duration of the journey,” he says. “My cabin will be on the opposite side of the ship. Should you need anything, instruct the automaton to fetch me, and I’ll do what I can.”
I nod. It feels odd to be traveling alone with the headman. Though he’s been a presence in my life for as long as I can remember, we aren’t exactly close.
Su meets my gaze. “I know this isn’t easy for you. You’re a very brave young woman.”
I try to smile but don’t quite succeed. “How long will the journey take?”
“Because of the viceroy’s magic, this ship is several times faster than the quickest horse.” Su looks around the ship with admiration. “We should be in Tongqiucheng by this time tomorrow, and the wedding is to take place the day after.”
So fast? I blink in astonishment. It would take weeks to reach Tongqiucheng by horse. I can’t believe that in less than two days I’ll be the viceroy’s eighth wife. Nausea sweeps over me.
This journey will expand my world … I repeat Mother’s words over and over, wishing I could take comfort in them. But too much uncertainty stretches before me, and all I know is what’s being taken from me—my family and my freedom.
Automatons place my trunk in the corner of the room, which is empty except for a chair and a desk. A rectangular doorway leads into a second room containing a narrow bed. Golden light spills through a square window facing the shore, and through it I spot Anshui standing beside Mother. I wave vigorously. Anshui brightens when she spots me and waves back.
“Anlei!” A man’s voice whispers my name.
Whirling, I expect to see Su standing in the doorway, but he’s already halfway across the deck. Only an automaton stands by my door, its gears and joints still. Su watches as a cyborg soldier carries a jade pedestal containing the River Pearl, which is the size of a large grape and glows pure white even as dawn tints everything else. As he directs the cyborg to place the pearl in his chambers—he’ll be its custodian until the wedding—I imagine I can still smell the smoke of hundreds of pieces of paper burning in a ceremonial bowl before the River Dragon Shrine.
For the ritual to break the enchantment binding the pearl to Dailan, each person born in the village mixed a drop of his or her blood in ink, then wrote his or her name on the paper. Those too young or infirm to write their own names were guided by their parents or relatives. When my turn came to take a stick of incense and light the paper on fire, I almost ran again. One refusal—my refusal—would have been all that was needed to make the viceroy leave and never return.
He’d let all of Dailan fall to the Ligui for the sake of his pride … Would you?
With those words echoing through my head, I threw my burning name into the bowl. Now, anyone can possess the River Pearl.
“Anlei!” The man’s voice whispers again, interrupting my thoughts. This time, I know it’s not Su because the headman is talking to one of the soldiers.
“Who’s there?” I whip around, but unless it was the automaton that spoke, no one’s near enough to have whispered. I peer at the machine’s theatrically painted face, wondering if it had spoken. Maybe the magic that powers it gave it a voice as well.
“Anlei!”
The voice is louder this time. And it sounds … it sounds so familiar.
“Father?” My chest tightens. Though I’ve often prayed that Father’s ghost would speak to me, visits from the departed are supposed to take place during prayers or in dreams … for a ghost to appear randomly, without being called upon, is virtually unheard of.
Whatever the circumstances, I’d give anything to see Father again. “Father!”
For several moments, I stand there hoping and waiting. But all I hear are the whispers of the wind outside and the voices of the ship’s crew as they prepare for launch.
The silence slices my heart like a knife. I can’t help wondering if maybe it was my own guilt calling to me, accusing me of failing to avenge him. Now that I’m to marry the viceroy, I’ve lost my chance. The viceroy would never let one of his wives run around slaying Ligui. I’ll be kept locked up and safe—no different from the River Pearl.
Knowing that didn’t keep me from hiding Father’s sword at the bottom of my trunk. Even if I never wield it again, I couldn’t bear to part with it.
The floor vibrates as an engine starts rumbling. Realizing that we’re about to leave, I rush back to the window. My family remains on the shore, along with what looks like the entire village. Water splashes as the boat’s propellers begin spinning, surrounded by golden, crackling flecks of magic.
I remain by my window as the cruiser rises, flanked by mechanical dragons, and I keep watching as Dailan shrinks below me.
White clouds and blue sky fade into a speckled night. Outside my window, the not-quite-full moon glows. I’ve spent all day watching the sky outside my window—the slow, deliberate dance of the clouds, the contortions of colors as varying shades of blue transformed into the fiery hues of sunset. Beautiful as it is, having nothing else to do is driving me mad. Ordinarily, I would have spent the day helping Mother with chores or training in combat. But a lady does none of these things, and though I’m not married yet, I’m supposed to start acting like one.
At one point, Su arrived to inform me that after the wedding, I’ll be known as Lady Jiangzhu—Lady of the River Pearl. All I did was nod in response. I couldn’t exactly object.
Leaning my elbows against the windowsill, I release a long sigh. I’m so bored, I almost want to jump out just to see what would happen. My fingers itch to grip Father’s sword and run through a few drills.
A warrior must be disciplined, on and off the battlefield, Father told me once, and I’ve been re
peating those words in my head all day. In my mind, I see his face—powerful jaw, inky beard, stern, focused eyes. If he were here, he’d tell me that even though I won’t be fighting anymore, I must still practice discipline. Which means no jumping out windows and no practicing sword drills in my room. But I’m so bored …
A wisp of black crosses one of the clouds outside. I straighten, my instincts leaping to action. I’ve seen enough Ligui to recognize one about to materialize.
Excitement courses through me. I dig Father’s sword out from the bottom of my trunk. My wide tunic—a woman’s tunic—allows me almost as much movement as my guard outfit would have, even though the high collar, decorated with knotted buttons, chokes me somewhat when I move.
A gong’s ring splits the air. Cyborg soldiers leap into action. By the time I make it onto the deck, several are already battling Ligui in various forms. Explosions ring through the night as the mechanical dragons blast entire swaths of the creatures with their fiery breaths.
My blood cries out for action, and I race into the fray. Seeing one soldier locked in duel with a man-shaped Ligui, I slice through the monster from behind. The satisfying crackle of my enchanted sword against its shadowy body is music to my ears.
The soldier carries an ordinary sword. Yet he had no problem dueling the supernatural creature … My gaze falls on his mechanical arm, and I realize that his cyborg enhancements must allow him to wield any weapon as if it were enchanted.
“Lady! What are you doing out here?” The soldier grips my arm, metal fingers digging into my sleeve. “You must stay inside.”
I open my mouth to protest but glimpse another man-shaped Ligui heading toward the cabins on the other side of the deck. The sight of a glowing white crescent on his neck sends a burst of energy through me. I tear out of the soldier’s grasp.
May the Gods of Heaven and Earth witness my oath: I will avenge you, Father.
I won’t fail this time.
The shadowy figure with the white crescent climbs onto the roof of one of the cabins. I sprint across the deck and spring off the ground, grab the edge of the roof, and pull myself up.
