CHAPTER SIX
Sunlight falls upon the trees, shining gold like they are carved of amber.
The skies are a vivid blue, unlike the wintry gray of the Iron Mountains.
A young woman is running, her large eyes the color of ink, long brown hair flying across her face, obscuring her features.
Her hand is seized by another in a cloak, the hood drawn over their face as they drag the girl along—
My eyes flick open. Something pulses against my finger—my ring.
It’s there; it’s real. My heart beats unsteadily, yet is filled with rare warmth.
Who was the girl? I shake my head to clear it, still fogged from sleep.
Violet threads the skies above, the night pricked with starlight.
The scent of grass is light and fresh, unlike the grease of the kitchen at home, the dankness that never goes away no matter how hard I scrub.
It’s late, long past dinnertime. Mistress Henglan must be furious, my body instinctively tensing.
Don’t return. A tempting thought. I have the silver from Jin, the copper from Farmer Lan.
Mistress Henglan doesn’t deserve the respect of a final farewell, she was never family in the way that mattered.
And she won’t want her unpaid servant, the source of her income, to leave.
As for the carp… though I’ve only known Little Dragon for a short while, what I owe it can’t be measured in time. I stand and walk toward the pond. All is silent, the water still. As I raise my hand and wave, the surface ripples, the carp’s silvery scales gleaming as it swims toward me.
“Did you sleep well?” it asks quietly, lifting its head from the water.
“Never better,” I reply with feeling.
“Where will you go now?”
I touch the ring on my hand, unused to this weightlessness within. “Away from here. Where this takes me.”
Its mouth curves. “I wish you good luck in your travels.”
“Thank you, Little Dragon.” I hesitate, then ask, “What about you? Will you stay or leave?”
“The magic yielded to me for the task is fading. I will use what remains to return home.”
This feels like farewell, a thickness swelling in my throat. “If there is anything I can ever do for you, it would be my honor.”
“I am honored by your mother’s trust,” Little Dragon replies gravely, then its tone lightens. “But if you ever find the waterfall you spoke of, the one that transforms fish into dragons—”
“I will bring you there,” I promise.
The carp’s eyes are bright. “I have one more gift, this one from me to you.”
A large bundle lies on the bank, wrapped in dried lotus leaves.
I crouch down to pull them apart and find a beautiful dress within—a light blue silk embroidered with peonies, with layers gathered below the chest. The skirt flutters as I lift it up, the cloth soft and smooth.
There’s even a silver hairpin with a coral butterfly.
Yet the true wonder are the shoes, crafted of white brocade, embroidered with flowers that are studded with iridescent crystals and seed pearls.
The clink of pebbles from behind startles me.
At once I cover the dress and shoes with the leaves, concealing them from sight.
I rise, scanning the surroundings cloaked in shadow.
The wind catches at my hair, blowing it loose as the bamboo leaves quiver.
Maybe it was just a wild animal. Songmin wouldn’t have bothered to follow me, and Mistress Henglan rarely leaves home, preferring to send me on any errand.
My skin crawls as I pull out my knife, gripping it tightly.
The carp is watching me with its golden eyes. “Be careful,” I whisper. “Stay hidden, and don’t emerge until I return. If it’s an intruder, I’ll draw them away.”
As the fish darts beneath the water, I move from the pond toward the forest—my breathing shallow, my blade thrust out before me.
It’s quiet here, too quiet. Leaves rustle, footsteps rushing toward me.
I spin around as something hard crashes against the side of my head.
I stumble back, struggling to stay awake, but a hand clamps over my mouth and nose, cutting the air from my lungs.
Darkness shrouds my mind, panic rising as I claw at the hand smothering me.
I ram my elbow back—but another blow strikes my head, and my knees buckle.
Fingers close around my ring, tugging hard, but it holds fast like it’s bonded to my skin.
Pain pierces my hand as the ring finally gives way…
an aching loss engulfing me alongside the blinding agony as I’m dragged into oblivion.
My eyes fly open. It’s dark here, not even a candle to light the room, just a small window high above with a plank hammered across it.
I’m lying on the floor, a familiar musty scent filling my nostrils, thick with stale grease and the pungent aroma rising from a large bowl on the table.
I push myself up, my head still pounding from the blows.
This is the storeroom behind the kitchen where Mistress Henglan used to lock me up whenever I did something she didn’t like.
Was she the one who attacked me in the forest?
I reach for my ring instinctively—gone—torn from my finger, the last thing I recall before losing consciousness.
Ice glazes my insides, a sharp hollow carved in my heart like a piece of it cut away.
The flesh is swollen where the ring used to be, and there’s a reddish imprint of a flower on the underside of my finger like ink that won’t rub off.
It sears when I press it, raw and tender as though a needle has been run across leaving bloodied pinpricks.
Never relinquish it.
Little Dragon’s warning reverberates through my mind. Fear crowds, clustering tight. Am I already dying without my ring? I have to get it back—but first I must escape.
I shove my shoulder against the door, wrenching hard, but it’s locked fast.
“Yining, you’re awake.” Mistress Henglan’s voice filters through the wooden panel, her speech slurred like she’s been drinking wine.
My body tenses as I force my voice to soften. “Step-Aunt, why am I here? Why did you hit me?” She must be furious to lock me up; she hasn’t done this in a long while.
“Where were you, Yining?” Her tone is dangerously calm. “You didn’t return when you were supposed to.”
“I was late coming home because I went to gather more pears.” I try to speak slowly. “Farmer Lan gave us a good price for them; forty copper coins.”
Through the door, I catch the jangle of metal. The pouch is gone from my waist, along with my knife—but fortunately the silver is still tucked in the sash around my waist.
“Were you planning to give the money to me or keep it for yourself ?” Her mood swings, now accusatory and challenging.
“Why would I keep it?” I shift the question back to her. “I was already on my way home.”
“Yet where were the pears you claim to have harvested?” she snaps. “You carried none with you.”
“I left them by the trees,” I say without pause. “I heard a sound and thought it might be a rabbit or wild pheasant—something I could catch for our meal.”
The silence that falls is the jagged, uneasy type that leads one to blurt foolish things. Metal clanks, like she’s stirring a ladle in a pot. The scent of spice thickens, of chilies and peppercorns, precious ingredients usually reserved for festival days. Yet Mistress Henglan rarely cooks.
“Are you hungry, child?” She speaks gently, the way she used to when my uncle was alive. “I’ve prepared a special meal for us, to mark a new beginning.”
“Thank you, Step-Aunt. I’m grateful. Why don’t you unlock the door so we can eat together?” I almost choke on the simpering words, but I’ll say anything to get out.
“I’ve already left a portion with you,” she tells me. “Eat it, then I’ll let you out.”
I don’t believe her, but I turn to the bowl on the table, forgotten in my attempt to escape. My skin crawls as I stare at the reddish broth, the lumps of white flesh. I grip the spoon, lifting out a fish head—its golden eyes glistening like blots of oil, its mouth gaping in a mimicry of a smile.
“They say carp tastes best when cooked alive,” Mistress Henglan whispers viciously.
A piercing scream erupts from my throat, my horror bubbling up and flowing over. Little Dragon is dead, the wondrous and kind creature who’d sacrificed so much to find me. Nightmarish images flash through my mind of its torment, its unfathomable anguish. I’m crying, sick at the horror of it all.
“You killed it. Why?” I slam my fists against the door, bruising my knuckles. “It was my—”
“Friend? Pet?” She laughs, a high-pitched sound. “Stupid girl. Apologize and finish your meal. Maybe then I’ll let you out.”
A red haze descends as I shove the bowl from the table. It shatters on the ground, the fiery soup pooling amid the shards, soaking into the weathered grains of the wood. “I will never forgive you. Why did you do this?”
“It’s fascinating, the things you hear when others think you’re not listening.
When you didn’t return, I went to the trees you mentioned.
They’d never borne fruit before; I thought you’d lied, that you’d gotten the pears elsewhere.
I wanted to know what you were keeping from me.
As it turns out, I reaped a far greater harvest than a basket of fruit. ”
I can’t speak, wracked with fury, with sorrow and fear.
“I hear you’re leaving?” Her voice comes louder like she’s now standing right by the other side of the door. “The question is, will you still go without your ring?”
“My ring? Why did you take it?” My heart plummets but I’m trying to hide my rage; I can’t reveal how precious it is to me.
“I thought it was worthless,” she murmurs, and I imagine her inspecting it, sliding it down her finger. After it merged with the flower, it doesn’t look “worthless” anymore, the band gleaming like jade. She’ll try to sell it—the thought making me sick to my stomach.