“Are we in Paris?” Matt asked, looking up at the tall spire.
“No,” Jia said. She could tell Matt’s memories were unraveling even faster than hers.
They mounted the steps to the Hall of Supreme Harmony, and the closer they came to the doors, the harder Jia’s heart pounded. When they arrived at the top, Jia reached in her vest pocket and took out her amulet, the one thing that had kept her connected to her home, her family.
“Matt,” she said, “I need you to take this.” She pressed the amulet in his hand. “You need to make sure to rescue my younger self, take me to the Vermillion, and give that to me. You can’t forget.”
Matt stared down at the amulet, then frowned at her. “Why? What’s going to happen to you?”
“I don’t know,” she said. But something was wrong. She could feel it. “You can’t forget,” she said again. “Promise?”
Matt nodded. “I promise.”
The guards opened the doors and ushered them through.
Jia approached slowly, trying to compose herself. She was in her tool vest and pants still. She should have changed before she came, but it was too late now.
Her father was sitting on his throne, but as she drew closer, she saw that it wasn’t the Kangxi emperor on the throne at all. It was Yinreng.
“Sister,” Yinreng said, a sly smile on his lips.
“Yinreng,” she said. “What are you doing? Where is Father?”
“He’s gone,” he said.
“Gone where?” Matt asked.
“Nobody knows. He has disappeared, along with many others.”
Jia glanced at Matt. What could that mean? Had he been displaced in time? Had Captain Vincent erased his existence? No, that couldn’t be, because if her father didn’t exist then she wouldn’t exist, or Yinreng.
“So you’ve gone ahead and made yourself emperor?” Jia said. “It is treason to act in the name of the emperor without his blessing, without knowing for sure what has happened to him.”
Yinreng only smiled at her. “Did you know,” he said, “that the emperor has a box, locked and hidden away, containing the name of his heir? It is only to be opened upon the emperor’s death, to name his successor.”
Jia had heard of this. It was meant to ensure that his will was carried out after his death, that his successor was named without any confusion or contention.
“Well?” Jia said. “Is it not your own name inside the box? Everyone knows you are the crown prince, heir to the throne.”
“I should be,” Yinreng said, his lips curling with derision. “But the emperor has been strange since you showed up. He speaks of you a great deal. ‘Is not Quejing intelligent?’ he says. ‘Doesn’t she seem like a strong, fair-minded woman?’”
Jia could not understand why these compliments would anger her brother so much. What was it to him if their father thought her intelligent? Yinreng was his heir, unless . . .
“You think the emperor changed his mind,” Matt said. “That he’s going to name Quejing as heir, not you?”
Jia’s heart began to pound. Surely the emperor wouldn’t name her as his heir!
“It’s preposterous,” Yinreng said. “A woman cannot rule China. But yesterday, before the emperor went missing, I heard him ask one of his advisers to bring him the box.”
“And?” Matt said. “Did you open it?”
“I can’t,” Yinreng said. “It is in the possession of Father’s advisers. Only they can open it, but I’ve asked them to wait.”
“Wait for what?” Jia said.
“I want to make certain assurances first. You’ve made the emperor believe you’re truly his daughter, somehow traveled back to him from the future.”
“I am his daughter,” Jia said. “You know I am.”
“Maybe,” Yinreng said, “but I couldn’t help but wonder, what would happen if the young Quejing were to tragically die? What would happen to you?”
Jia’s blood ran cold. She felt Matt grip her arm.
“You can’t do that,” Matt said.
“Can’t I?” Yinreng said. “No one would miss her. No one cares about her.”
Jia began to quake. This was true. With the death of her mother she had largely been forgotten, and there was no one in the Forbidden City who truly cared for her. No one who loved her. She needed to run. She needed to find her younger self, tell her to flee. But the instant she took a step, Yinreng made a signal and the guards standing on either side of them suddenly seized both Matt and her, yanking them apart.
“Bring me Princess Quejing, the younger one,” Yinreng told one of the guards. “She’s usually skulking around in the carpenter’s quarters or the blacksmith.”
The guard bowed to Yinreng and left.
“Jia!” Matt called. “Stop! Let me go!” He fought with the guards, his face wild with rage. One of the guards hit him across the face. Still, he fought. He twisted and kicked and pulled.
Jia could see him starting to shake, to flicker.
“Matt!” she called as she was dragged away. “You have to get to me, to my younger self! You’re supposed to take me to the Vermillion! You have to travel, Matt! Don’t fight it! Let yourself go! Fall apart!”
“Jia!” Matt shouted, but she was dragged away until she couldn’t see or hear him anymore.
She was locked inside a dark room with nothing but cold stone walls. She didn’t cry or scream. She knew those things would not help her. But what could? What could she do? Nothing, she realized. All she could do was wait and see. Either Matt would succeed—he would find her and save her life—or Yinreng would kill her.
Jia slid against the stone wall and sat on the floor. What had happened to her father? Where had he gone?
She was not sure how long she waited, if it was minutes or hours.
