When night came, Bingmei flew higher in the sky, until the flickering light from torches on the Death Wall could be seen in a glimmering line all along the northern horizon. Weariness plagued her, but she kept flying. She had learned enough about the constellations to navigate westward, keeping along the coast.
After dawn rose, she saw the shattered bay of Renxing. As she passed over it, she noticed the ships gathered in the harbor and knew they would be used to invade Fusang. Sihui lay beyond the mountains on the far side of Renxing, so she soared over them and then across the lush green valley fed by rivers that led to Sihui. The air was warmer on that side, and the snow had all melted away from the valley.
As she approached, she saw the bridges had been rebuilt during the winter months of cold and darkness. The bay was thick with ships of different sizes. Everywhere she looked, there was evidence General Tzu was preparing for his attack.
As Bingmei flew toward the city, she wondered how she appeared to them below. There were no shouts of warning. Perhaps she was so small, they mistook her for a bird of prey? She swooped down toward the Eagle Palace in the western part of the city. The sight of the palace filled her with relief. Echion had tried to defeat it and had failed. He was not infallible.
There were soldiers patrolling the walls, but they seemed oblivious to her until she landed in the middle of the courtyard, holding the meiwood staff.
As soon as she appeared in their midst, she started walking toward the doors. A commotion broke out, with people shouting at her and each other. Many languages were spoken simultaneously, but she heard a few people speaking the tongue of Sajinau as they gasped in shock, many of them recognizing her despite the change in her hair color.
“It’s the phoenix-chosen! She’s returned!”
“Go tell King Zhumu—hurry!”
No one denied her entry. In fact, they hastened to pull open the doors. Crowds of people fell in around her, nearly choking her with the intensity of their feelings. They were all pleasant feelings—relief, surprise, and hope—but the onslaught was overwhelming, particularly since she’d been around only Quion for so long. She felt weary to her bones.
She recognized one of General Tzu’s officers, a man named Pangxie, pressing through the crowd. His eyes widened with shock and recognition.
“It is you!” he called out, grinning. “Out of the way, you fools! Clear the way for her! Move!”
As soon as they were together, he shook his head in wonderment.
“Hello, Pangxie,” she said. “Is the general still here?”
“He is, and he won’t believe you’re here! We had no hope at all that you’d return. After Liekou arrived with the princess—”
“Liekou is here?” Bingmei asked, interrupting. “And the princess?”
“Yes! They arrived not long ago. They had to winter in caves in the mountains, but they trudged through the snows the best they could. They last saw you on the steps leading up to the Death Wall. Everyone worried the dragon had found you before you made it across. Come with me! We must hurry!”
They pressed through the crowd, Pangxie leading the way, and then entered the throne room she’d seen in her vision and had visited in person.
When she stepped inside, everyone gawked at her in astonishment. General Tzu was the first to recover. He barked orders to send out everyone but a select few, to limit the commotion. People from all over the palace had thronged the hallways to see her, and guards had to push them back physically before barring the doors. The noise from outside still spilled in through the gaps between the doors.
King Zhumu started pacing before the throne, something he’d been doing before she entered the room. As she strode forward to greet him, she caught a whiff of disappointment and surprise. She bowed before him, wondering at the source of his feelings. Was he upset she’d returned?
“I’ve returned, King Zhumu,” she said. Then, rising, she turned to General Tzu. “General, I came back as soon as I could after fulfilling my promise to the phoenix. I wasn’t required to sacrifice my life in the way that I thought.”
“They said you dropped into the palace courtyard like a bird,” the general said. “You eluded all of our defenses. How? And how can I be sure it is you and not an imposter?”
“You know I have the ability to divine the truth,” she said. “Tell me something that Echion or his minions wouldn’t know, and I will tell you whether it is true.”
“Her hair is different, but she certainly looks like Bingmei,” said Zhumu, shaking his head.
“Yes, but as we’ve learned, the dragons can steal the form of their victims.”
The sharp, lemony scent of greed caught her nose, mixed with the bitter bite of resentment, and she glanced back to find Budai was also in the hall. When he saw her looking at him, he scowled but didn’t turn away.
“The general is right to be distrusting,” Bingmei said. “Make your claim.”
“King Zhumu’s daughter has returned to Sihui,” the general said.
“That is true, although Pangxie told me as much in the corridor on the way here.”
The general frowned. “Did he also tell you that she is with child? Her time in the mountains with the renegade ensign proved . . . fruitful.”
There was no lie in his smell. She hadn’t known it, but it didn’t surprise her. She knew they had feelings for each other.
“I did not know this,” Bingmei said. “But it is no lie.”
Zhumu scowled at the statement, and his scent of disappointment sharpened. His daughter, Cuifen, had been a bargaining ploy, and he’d wanted to marry her off to increase his power. Now that possibility had been stripped away. It also explained Budai’s smell because he had wanted to marry her.
“Are you satisfied, General?” Bingmei asked. “I bring news of great importance.”
“Where have you been, Bingmei?” he asked her.
“I’ve been
