CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Two days pass in a blur as we follow a winding path through the slopes.
At last, it descends sharply toward the lush meadows on the horizon, close to the border of the Amber Forest. Warmth threads the air, laced with the scent of the wildflowers that speckle the grass: white puffs of dandelions, tiny purple stars, delicate sprays of yellow flowers.
The forests teem with life, the rustle of small animals, sunlight filtering through the leaves.
Here, many trees have turned their coats from green to autumn red.
Their trunks shimmer, their resin spilling over the bark until it appears gilded.
It sparks a memory of my dream when I first wore my ring, of the gleaming trees of gold.
Excitement unfurls. The girl I dreamed of… could she be here?
The horses we ride are swift and tireless, not breaking a sweat no matter how far we travel, their hooves shod with an iridescence like moonstone.
Our pace is brisk, stopping only once it’s dark and leaving just as dawn breaks.
The Thorn Valley soldiers are well organized in setting up camp each night, arranging shelter, lighting the fires, and preparing our food.
They keep to themselves, their conversation fading when I draw near—nor do I seek them out.
If I must take the starfire from them, it’s easier to let down those you don’t know.
Life in the Palace of Nine Hills feels like a hazy dream now that I’ve traded pillows of jade for those of grass, the elaborate meals for bread, fruit, and dried meat.
But for the first time since my uncle’s death, I feel free.
There’s no one to dread, no one to fear.
The clothes Jin gave me for traveling fit well, the shorter robe and long pants similar to those he wears.
Part of me misses the flowing dresses of the palace, my hand unconsciously patting down my hair when Jin’s eyes meet mine.
It’s always tangled these days, far from the elaborate coils Mina weaves.
A coolness has sprung up between Jin and me.
Since we last spoke, he hasn’t sought me out unless he needs to, sensing my withdrawal.
He is polite and considerate, yet there is a wall between us now, one of my own making.
Jin owes me a lot, and I won’t settle for less.
How can I when my life is at stake? I have to protect myself; I won’t take his word alone.
I tell myself this again and again, because sometimes when the sunlight glazes his eyes, when the wind tousles his hair… I wish it didn’t have to be this way.
The afternoon of our third day, the city walls loom in the distance, the yellow marble gleaming like molten gold.
The thick wooden entrance doors are studded with copper, thrown open but guarded by soldiers in iron armor with gilded cuffs.
Archers patrol the walls, keeping a watchful eye on the crowd milling around.
The iron here appears duller than that of the Palace of Nine Hills, lacking its sharp glitter.
After all, the prince’s iron isn’t mined but forged from magic.
“This is the Golden Dawn City, where Duke Yuan resides.” Jin rides beside me, though he’s kept his distance since we last spoke. “We’ve arrived in time; today is the Market of a Hundred Leaves.”
“The Amber Forest is said to be where all manner of things are bought and sold.” I’m thinking of Little Dragon, how I first wanted to sell it here.
“It is,” Jin agrees, “and their duke takes a slice of everything.”
A long line stretches from the entrance, winding around the walls.
Some merchants push carts laden with goods: birds in rattan cages, wine jars, bolts of cloth, porcelain figures, toys whittled from wood.
We join the crowd, dismounting and leading our horses on foot.
Closer to the entrance, several guards sit by a table, a set of scales beside them.
One side is piled with flat metal shards shaped like leaves, while the other is bare.
A man in front pulls out his purse, placing a handful of silver onto the empty plate.
The scales tilt, the man adding more until it balances—only then do the guards wave him through.
A fistful of silver, enough for a family to live on for months.
“Why are they paying the guards?” I ask Jin, curiosity outweighing my reluctance to speak to him.
“The entrance fee.” At my look of outrage, Jin continues, “But we are exempt once you show them the tablet from Minister Luk. Duke Yuan is miserly, but even he wouldn’t charge those rescuing his daughter for the privilege.”
“Who would pay to enter a market?”
“It keeps out the casual onlookers. Everyone inside is a person of means or has paid the fee. And once they’re inside, they’re eager to get their money’s worth.”
With each hour, the crowd swells yet remains orderly, no one pushing or jostling.
Many ignore us; in our plain, travel-worn clothes, we appear no one of note.
The people here wear long robes of thinner cloth, more closely fitted to their bodies.
Precious ornaments adorn the hair, wrists, and necks of many.
Tiny jewels glitter from their faces: small rubies, sapphires, or topazes, embedded in their foreheads or cheeks, forming artful designs of flowers or birds.
In the mountains, they would be set upon by thieves, their treasures torn from their flesh.
“Everyone seems wealthy. Where are the poor?” I wonder aloud.
“They are regularly rounded up and sent away from the city.” Jin’s voice hardens. “The Amber Forest is vigilant about maintaining its shining reputation.”
I recoil at the thought. I used to dream of living in the Amber Forest, away from the threat of the mines… except I’m no longer sure I’d like it here.
Finally, we are almost at the front of the line, just behind a gray-haired woman.
Her movements are plodding like she’s dazed, the guard bellowing at her to hurry as she fumbles for the pouch at her waist. Slowly, she empties it, her gaze fixed on the scales.
As they balance, her shoulders sag. I’ve seen that look before; I’ve felt it, the uncertainty of not knowing when I’ll eat next.
Maybe she’s staked all her savings on today’s earnings.
The soldiers gesture impatiently for her to enter.
She limps away, pushing her cart piled with persimmons.
Her silver remains abandoned on the scales, the guards distracted by the seal from the Iron Mountains that I hand to them.
After inspecting it, they wave us through, Jin leading the Thorn Valley soldiers into the city.
I slow my pace, deliberately angling my body as my hand snakes out to snatch some silver from the scales, then a fistful of metal from the other side.
The scales quiver, then balance once more—no one noticing. The takings for today will be less.
Hurrying onward, I trail the old woman as she pushes the cart of fruit. I brush against her, slipping the silver back into her pouch. As I mumble my apologies, she smiles and then leaves. I don’t know why I did this, just that her despair touches a part of me I thought had turned to stone.
A shadow falls over me. Jin stands there—alone, without the soldiers—his eyebrows arched in a silent question. As he steps closer, the warmth from his body flares across mine.
“You’re the worst thief I’ve ever seen,” he tells me.
“Fortunately, I don’t care what you think.”
As I move aside, he catches my arm. “I know you’re angry with me, Yining. I’m angry with myself for failing you. I will get your ring back.”
“How?” I want more than empty promises.
“We’re working to secure a guard in His Highness’s courtyard—someone new. It’s a delicate situation, so we can’t move too quickly. If we’re careless, it will spoil our chances.”
“Why should I believe you? I’ve seen you lie—”
“Not when it matters.”
Our eyes meet, a current sparking between us.
Time stills in this flicker of silence. But then the mark on my finger throbs, a vital reminder to guard myself.
I look away from him, pretending to study the market.
All around, merchants are hawking their wares: bolts of silks and brocade, combs of polished wood, silver, and jade.
The fragrance of perfume and tea twines with the smoky smell of roasted chestnuts.
Vendors call out, offering paper cones of candied nuts, sticks of spun-sugar figurines, and steamed buns piled in bamboo baskets.
A few sell boxes of small cakes drizzled with honey and chopped nuts.
I stare at them, wondering what they’d taste like.
While there is silver in my pouch, I’m not accustomed to spending it.
There are other things being sold, rare ones that I’ve never seen before: flowers crafted of precious stones, wind chimes that play wondrous melodies, rabbits with blue eyes, and birds that can repeat our words. These draw the largest crowds, people pushing their way forward to stare at them.
“Come, walk with me through the market,” Jin says persuasively. “These merchants come from all over the realm to trade their wares. We might learn something of use. And I’ll buy you a gift, anything you like.”
A gift. One I get to choose for myself. I imagine strolling the streets with him, examining the wares, trying the different foods—an acceptance hovering on my lips.
But then I remember I’m angry with him, that I might have to betray him over the starfire…
and I’d be stupid to open my heart any further.
“Keep your gift,” I say stiffly. “I can buy my own.”
“Don’t like owing anyone anything?” he asks perceptively.
“All I need is what you owe me.”
His face shutters as he walks to a vendor, the one with the honeyed cakes that I was tempted by earlier. As he gives her a few coins, she passes him a box. He strides back to me, then places it into my hands without a word. Our fingers graze, kindling a warmth within.
“Not everything is a trade,” he says, his gaze holding mine. Before I can thank him, he walks away.
It’s better this way. Jin and I are safe now, where we are—standing still. I don’t dare want more.