Chapter 28 Àn’yīng
àn’yīng
Kingdom of Sky
Goodbye, àn’yīng.
The weight of Yù’chén’s words fill every corner of my chamber, my thoughts as scattered as the blossoms in the garden outside.
He knows. He knows I’m preparing to retaliate against the Kingdom of Night.
In a way, perhaps this was the kindest gift he could give me: a parting of the two people we were when we met each other in that bamboo forest at sundown…
and a knowing that we now fully stand on opposite sides of the war, with only one way this can all end.
I gather myself, reining in the pounding of my heart and the ache deep in my chest. Then I take out the lotus hairpin from within my sleeve.
At my touch, it warms briefly and begins to glow. When its light settles, it has changed back into its true form of the lotus sword—as though it anticipates what I’m about to ask.
I glance at my hand again. The little bracelet of magical fungus that Cǎi’hé made for me gleams with strings of spiritual energies, but my skin beneath looks healthy.
I reach into my core and gather my spirit energies, watching my skin begin to glow as I channel them to my fingertips and into the lotus sword.
I need to summon my mother’s army.
The thought streams from my mind into the spirit energies pouring into the sword.
The sword reacts. Where my fingertips touch the blade, the metal ripples, its light growing warm, like dawn reflected in water.
Within, silhouettes begin to take form: immortal warriors, one sweeping into the next: ageless, beautiful, and powerful, dressed in the same white-and-gold lamellar armor Hào’yáng once wore as a guard at the Temple of Dawn.
As they flicker past, a running tally of soldiers, the blade of my sword breaks apart into glowing lotus petals.
Each is inscribed with golden characters spelling out a warrior’s name.
The petals stream out into the night, brighter than stars, scattering in all directions.
And just like that, my spirit vessel has released my call to the warriors of my mother’s—now my—army.
The jade-green hilt of the sword pulses softly in my palm.
I place it back on the bed by my pillow.
Then there is nothing for me to do but wait.
—
Before dawn, I dress in the white gown gifted to me by the Realm of Dragons. I’m armed with my last two crescent blades, Fleet and Poison, and I hold the hilt of my lotus sword. Like this, I stand at the doorway to the pavilion outside my chamber. Waiting.
They arrive one by one, at first light—my mother’s battalion of immortal warriors, led by several dozen generals whom I identify by the emblems on their helmets.
Hào’yáng prepared me for this during our time together in the Dragon Realm: He taught me their names, their functions, the units they command, and each unit’s specialties.
With each new arrival, a lotus petal returns to me, fitting itself to the hilt of my sword until the blade is whole again.
Spirit energies roll off the warriors and their weapons like sunlight, and they look every bit the legendary immortals from the storybooks and myths I grew up with—ones I never thought I would set eyes upon, let alone find myself having to command.
You fought and clawed your way here, comes a voice in my mind. You have the secret to victory. Do not diminish the strength of your heart.
My lotus sword pulses in my hands. When I look down at the blade, I have to blink several times before I believe what I’m seeing.
Lady Shī’yǎ’s face gazes out at me, her eyes gentle and soft, exuding an ageless wisdom. By her side, smiling up at me with the black eyes and sharp, strong features I inherited…is my father.
The blade shimmers gently, and again, a voice—a mixture of their voices—speaks in my mind.
You began on the path we set out for you, yet you have accomplished and become so much more. Walk your own path, àn’yīng, and remember that we are always with you in your heart.
With another ripple, they vanish, and I’m left staring at my own reflection.
I lower the sword and lift my gaze to my mother’s battalion.
My battalion.
And I hold up a hand.
The warriors fall silent, hundreds of sets of eyes coming to focus on me. I draw a deep breath.
“Warriors of the Kingdom of Sky,” I begin. “My name is Hé àn’yīng. I am the daughter of the immortal Yī’lín Shī’yǎ and the mortal general Hé Zhàn.”
A murmur of interest—and confusion—rises in the battalion of immortals.
“My birth parents are dead, killed in the war that the Kingdom of Night inflicted first upon the mortal realm and now upon yours. Lady Shī’yǎ bequeathed her title, position, and spirit weapon to me before departing our world.
” I sweep my gaze across the crowd as I lift my lotus sword as proof.
More chatter hums through the crowd. “And today, I am calling for your help to retaliate in the war against the Kingdom of Night by allying with the Kingdom of Rivers, whose heir Hào’yáng, the son of the late emperor and empress and prince to the mortal throne, awaits us with an army of his own in the mortal realm.
“For ten years, the mó have been gaining ground and gaining power with the gateway they opened into the Kingdom of Rivers. They leach the life energies from my realm, pulling it into night. This fuels their strength, enabling them to progress farther into the Kingdom of Sky with every passing day.
“I know how to stop them.” I tighten my grip on the hilt of my sword.
“I know the source of the gateway the mó use to keep their grasp on the mortal realm. And I know how to break it. The key to doing so lies in the mortal realm’s Imperial City, where a gateway can be opened to connect the Kingdom of Rivers to the Kingdom of Night.
This gateway can only be created by a halfling born of the last mortal emperor and the demon queen.
The blood that flows through his veins can join the two realms together permanently.
” My hands are fisted. “We kill him and we sever the gateway once and for all, crippling the Kingdom of Night’s power. ”
A stillness has befallen my audience. Every eye is on me, every face focused with rapt attention.
Emboldened, I step up onto a table fashioned from an old tree trunk in the front of the open-air pavilion.
“But the Kingdom of Night now controls your wards. The only way out from here is through the Temple of Dawn.” I straighten slightly, glancing down at the flat of my blade where Bà’s face appeared to me only moments ago.
“My father was a general of the Kingdom of Rivers’ armies before he died in the war.
My strategy follows a principle of war he once taught me: Lure the tiger away from the mountain and strike.
“We gather all our forces for a battle at the Temple of Dawn. We force the Kingdom of Night to summon all their forces to this battle, weakening their guard back in the Imperial City.
“That is where I will go with Prince Hào’yáng and his army to sever the Kingdom of Night’s gateway.
“When that is complete, Prince Hào’yáng will ascend the mortal throne to claim his rightful title as emperor. We will have the allegiance of the dragon realm, and the mortal army will join forces with yours to finish this war.”
I end my speech, and a long silence stretches out. In the distance, the clouds stir, covering the sun.
“How do we know your words are to be trusted?” a general asks, her voice slicing through the air like a sword. I recognize her as General Shè’shēng, commander of the Song Shooters—legendary archers whose arrows travel faster than sound and song.
I’m not certain how to answer, for the truth is, I have no proof of what I’ve said. No proof that I am Lady Shī’yǎ’s daughter but for the lotus sword in my hand.
“Because we of the Eight Immortals stand with her and testify that she speaks true,” comes a familiar voice that rumbles like a thunderclap.
A sharp wind rises, and in the next moment, Dòng’bīn alights on a wisp of iridescent cloud, his somber scholar’s robes billowing, his red-tasseled sword hanging by his waist.
“Because Honorable Immortal Shī’yǎ’s vessel has accepted her and summoned you to follow her in this war,” says Cǎi’hé, appearing in a flourish of peach blossoms by my side. They throw me a wink.
“And because Hé àn’yīng has rightfully ascended to the position of the Eighth Immortal,” says Jǐng’xiù, who alights from his red-crowned crane, bamboo scepter magically amplifying his lofty announcer’s voice.
“And today, those of us gathered here pledge our allegiance to her.” He gives me a raised-eyebrow look, as though to say, Surprised?
That would be an understatement.
Xiāng’zǐ follows with a trill of his magic flute; last to arrive is Guǒ’lǎo, with light taps of his fish drum. Missing are Zhōng’lì and Tiě’guǎi, whose stances against my claiming my title seem not to have changed.
Yet as five of the Eight come to stand by my side, a rush of gratitude sweeps through me. Though none but Cǎi’hé show any trace of friendliness, their support has made allies of us, and we are united in our respect for Lady Shī’yǎ and our common goal in this war.
I turn to them and incline my head.
And before the eyes of hundreds of immortal generals and warriors, Dòng’bīn meets my gaze and bows back.
—
Dòng’bīn, Jǐng’xiù, Cǎi’hé, Xiāng’zǐ, and Guǒ’lǎo have summoned their own armies. The clearing beneath the mountain dome is teeming with activity, training, and sparring when we arrive with my army.
“I need to send word to the other realms,” I declare.
“I’d like to tell them that the Kingdom of Sky backs Hào’yáng and is ready to fight against the Kingdom of Night within the next day.
Anyone willing and able to support us in the war should join us at the Imperial City, where the mortal heir awaits them. ”
“An allegiance of realms,” Jǐng’xiù says grandly, raising his bamboo scepter to the skies. Jade-green light spirals upward in the form of vines, leaves unfurling as it climbs.