Kingdom of the Blazing Phoenix

by Julie C. Dao

  “These are the friends of whom you spoke? The ones led astray?” the Crimson Queen asked, and Jade gave a desperate nod. After a beat, the leader nodded to Sparrow.

  Within minutes, Jade flew from her seat to wrap her arms around Wren and Koichi, whose arms had been bound tightly behind their backs. At another nod from the leader, they were cut free to embrace Jade in return. They looked cold and tired, but just as happy to see her.

  Wren let go after a moment and moved aside as Koichi held on to Jade, his grin fading. “We abandoned you in the desert,” he said regretfully. “I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

  “How could you know? You were tricked,” Jade whispered, leaning into his shoulder.

  “You are soaked to the bone,” he realized, pulling away with concern.

  She laughed, drinking in the sight of him. “I have so much to tell you both.”

  The women finished cutting Ming’s bonds and he stepped forward, greeting Jade with his usual gruffness. “It’s a pleasure to see you unharmed, though you’d better get under those furs again before you catch your death of cold,” he advised, moving toward the fire. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Fu. “Well, there you are. I wondered where you had disappeared off to when I stopped hearing your irritating voice.”

  “I’ve missed you, too,” the ghost said, grinning broadly.

  Upon Jade’s request, her companions were fed and wrapped up as warmly as she was herself. She suspected Amah would be proud of the way she told of her adventures, and how all of her listeners—including the Crimson Army—hung on to her every word. To her amusement, each of her friends fixated on a different part of her journey.

  Ming was pleased that Jade and Fu had discovered that they were related. “I’ve always known he was the Crown Prince. Forgive me for selfishly keeping this from you,” he said to Jade. “I was afraid if you knew that, you might want to stay and ask questions I wasn’t ready to answer. Fu is connected strongly to a past I would rather forget. He did me a great favor in my youth.”

  Jade waited, but he did not elaborate. “There is no apology needed,” she said. “I can’t blame you for not wanting me to endanger your peace and safety.”

  “I used to remind your brother often of who he once was, but it did no good. Everything about his former life slipped right through that sieve of a memory of his,” Ming said, and the ghost gave a comical shrug. “If only I knew what a pain he would be as a spirit.” They all laughed, even Ming as he spoke.

  Wren wore an expression of horrified delight when Jade told them of her trials in the maze. “I wish I had been there. To help you,” she added hastily, when they all stared at her, “not just to see the quicksand.”

  Koichi, of course, was enraptured by Tu Lam’s sword and kept admiring it as they talked.

  “An entire miniature Feng Lu in the belly of a fish. If only I had been there to watch you reason through the story of Tu Lam,” he said, his face wistful. “A hundred swords, you say, and you chose the right one because you knew that folktale well.”

  “I would have chosen wrong,” Wren confessed. “I would have picked a fancy weapon.”

  Koichi raised an eyebrow. “So you agree now that folktales are important?”

  Wren pursed her lips. “I suppose they’re useful on occasion.”

  When the laughter had died down, Jade leaned her head against Koichi. He folded one of his blankets around her protectively, even though she already had three. “And now I’d like to hear the story of what happened to all of you after the sandstorm,” she said.

  Wren’s face clouded with the memory. “Koichi and I were frantic about you. There was so much sand swirling about, I couldn’t trust my eyes. But I felt certain I had seen you jump on the mare and ride out of the maze, and Koichi told me he had seen the same thing.”

  “Ming and Fu found us,” Koichi said. “Fu tried to warn us that it was a trick, but I was so desperate, I didn’t listen. After our conversation, with you wanting to go off on your own to keep Wren and me safe . . . I thought you had changed your mind, or been bewitched, or both.”

  Wren nodded. “Ming came with us, and we followed you west for two weeks. We lost sight of the mare every now and then, so we’d stop to rest, thinking we had lost you forever. And then we would see you galloping west again.”

  “It was a true body, not a spirit like Fu,” Ming said grimly. “We believe now that it was a corpse, reanimated in your likeness to lure us away from you. Once we reached the mountains, the poor mare collapsed from hunger and exhaustion, having been bewitched by whatever spell had been laid upon it. The body fell at the base of the peaks.”

  “The Crimson Army thought it was me,” Jade said, glancing at the warriors.

  Koichi tightened his arms around her. “We feared the worst, but when we came over, we realized Fu had been right and it wasn’t you after all. It was awful, knowing we had as good as left you for dead in the desert. It began to snow, so we wandered into the mountains searching for a warm place to rest and plan our next steps. That was when the Crimson Army captured us.”

  “And kept us alive,” Ming added, “thanks to our claiming a connection to you, Jade. And also because of Wren, I think. They were intrigued by her . . . spunk.”

  Wren smirked. “I was downright rude to them.” She turned to the listening warriors, many of whom couldn’t hide their amusement. “After having dreamed of joining your ranks for as long as I’ve been alive, I was upset at the conditions under which we had to meet.”

  The Crimson Queen’s lips twitched, but she said nothing.

  “It was a stroke of good fortune that the river carried Fu and me here,” Jade said, amazed. “The Serpent God thought to divide us when, in fact, he helped reunite us.”

  “It was destiny,” Ming told her. “And it is our destiny to return home.”

  “Our destiny?” Jade repeated. “Whatever happened to not getting involved? I hope you don’t feel obligated to . . .”

  “I’m not obligated, but I do owe you an apology for my lack of hospitality,” he said. “I have business of my own in the Great Forest. And I overheard you telling Wren and Koichi what you had seen in your nightmare of the dragon—and of her, eating your nursemaid’s heart. You didn’t sound shocked that she had performed such a brutal act.”

  “Xifeng has done it many times before, to many innocent people,” Jade told him quietly.

  Ming gazed back at her, but his eyes seemed to see someone else. “I’ve let it go on for far too long,” he murmured. “I, who knew what she might become because of the woman who had raised her. This is my fault as much as anyone’s.”

  “You knew the Empress when she was young?” Wren asked.

  But Ming did not answer her, and Jade saw an untold story upon his troubled brow. “I will travel as part of your company, Your Highness,” he said, passing a hand over his shadowed eyes. “I had already decided that day in the desert when you left for the maze. I’d be honored to fight for you. You see how long it takes me to find my courage?” His mouth quirked, and Jade smiled back, remembering their conversation.

  “I would be glad to have you,” she said, and then she turned to Wren and Koichi. “All of you.”

  “You have the cloak, the rose, the fishbone, and the sword. There’s only one treasure left, and then we can reunite the gods’ relics,” Wren said, leaning forward eagerly as Jade spread the map over her and Koichi’s knees. They knew what they would see before they saw it: a single ruby-red apple, stitched over the woodlands.

  “We return to the Great Forest,” Jade said, and it seemed the weight of her words hung in the air around them. “It’s time to collect the fifth and final relic.”

  “You’re walking into a trap,” the Crimson Queen said. “Xifeng will be waiting for you.”

  “There’s no help for it, is there? It has to be done.” Koichi glanced at Jade. “Bu
t how can we be sure the apple is still there? If Xifeng has discovered the purpose of our mission, suppose she destroyed the fruit to ensure that you could never reunite the treasures?”

  “In the vision, she rode away before the apple grew,” Jade said, thinking. “It’s possible she may not know it’s there, but even if she does, she can’t set foot beyond those gates. No one can, except the dragon . . . and me.”

  Wren spread her hands with delight. “Then you’ll be safe there! Our objective will be to fight off Kang and the soldiers and get you safely through those gates with the other four relics. Once you’re inside, it’s all over.” She cracked her knuckles in anticipation, her face alight.

  The Crimson Queen’s eyes moved over Wren with interest. “We can disguise Jade as one of us. A guard of four warriors will convey her to the gates while the rest fight. Xifeng doesn’t know we have joined forces with Her Highness. She won’t bring the entirety of her soldiers.”

  Ming shook his head slowly. “We can’t underestimate her,” he advised. “If there’s anything I know, it’s that she’s always thinking two steps ahead. She will be waiting, and she will be prepared. We must anticipate the worst.”

  “But the number of soldiers she brings doesn’t matter,” Wren pointed out. “The objective is not to defeat her snake army . . . at least, not right away. We just need to hold them off until Jade can summon the Dragon Guard.”

  “That, we can do. I’ll speak to my generals,” the Crimson Queen said, excusing herself.

  Left to themselves by the fire, Jade and her friends looked at one another. She could see on their faces all of the emotions that warred in her own breast: fear, anticipation, determination.

  “My mother told me that one of the relics will be the difference between life and death,” she said. “This is asking quite a lot of all of you.”

  “You’re not asking,” Wren said tartly. “And we’re not letting you out of our sight again.”

  Koichi nodded in agreement, his dimples showing prominently. “Have you ever noticed how each of us represents a kingdom of Feng Lu in some way? Jade is of the Great Forest. Ming lives in Surjalana. My family’s roots lie on Kamatsu, and Wren’s are in the Grasslands. Fu . . .”

  “My body is buried in Dagovad,” the ghost said with wonder, glancing at Ming as the memory blossomed on his face. “When I escaped my brother’s killers, I persuaded a merchant to take me west to Dagovad. That was where I met you.”

  “That’s right,” Ming said, surprised. “I was wandering aimlessly to Dagovad, no longer certain what I wanted from life, and fought for money in the city. Imagine my surprise when the Crown Prince of Feng Lu stumbled into one of my matches.”

  “You wished to return a favor I had done you,” Fu recalled. “What did I do?”

  “You gave me a position in the Imperial Army, which I left after a year,” Ming said curtly. “And I buried you at the foot of these mountains, as you asked.”

  Jade regarded each of her beloved companions, thinking that it was odd and fitting. Odd and fitting that, countless ages ago, a broken alliance between Feng Lu’s five kingdoms had divided the gods’ treasures. And now, a renewed partnership between people with their hearts and spirits rooted in each kingdom would bring the relics back together once more.

  She wrapped her fingers in Koichi’s and allowed herself the luxury of hope.

  In two days, the company set out from Dagovad more than a hundred strong. The Crimson Army provided horses and furs, and cloaked Jade and her companions in black like themselves. They traveled swiftly by night, choosing deserted roads and shortcuts the assassins knew well. The women wore translucent masks over their faces to reveal their lips, painted a startling bright red. If Jade hadn’t known better, she might have thought they were denizens of Xifeng, so sinister did they appear. But she felt relief every time she recalled they were there for her.

  Koichi did not leave her side, and his presence relieved her growing anxiety as each step took them closer and closer to home. Too soon, she would have to confront Empress Xifeng.

  Jade believed in the Crimson Army, and with four out of the five relics in her possession, no one doubted she would have the ability to summon the Dragon Guard. But if they succeeded, if they cast her stepmother down and took Feng Lu back, what then?

  She reeled at the enormity of the responsibilities ahead. There was much more to being a ruler than what Amah’s folktales would have her believe. Sitting on the throne would require more than just integrity, like the crane’s husband should have had; resourcefulness like the phoenix; faith as in the tale of the fishbone; and humility like Tu Lam. It made her feel small, imagining an entire empire of people wondering what she could possibly do to save them all.

  Leaders rarely succeed without help, her mother had told her, and Jade clung to those words like a warm embrace, like a boat on a tumultuous sea.

  She would have help. She had the Crimson Army and their fierce principles, Koichi’s intellect and bright spirit, Wren’s boldness and courage, and Ming’s loyalty and strength. And she had Fu, her brother, who stayed close to her with his eyes turned to the north and home—blood though he was only air, family though he was but a lingering spirit. She would have their counsel and guidance, and her own heart to lead her true.

  Just the same, she uttered a soft prayer to the Dragon Lords, for at the end of this journey, Xifeng was waiting. And the confrontation, Jade knew, would be the greatest of her life, and perhaps of all time in the history of Feng Lu.

  * * *

  • • •

  Spring had returned to the Great Forest, with all the beauty of fragrant heavy-headed trees and light dappling the wood. Jade breathed in deeply and thought, I am home. But she could not revel in the moment, for the Crimson Army’s vigilance was contagious. The women fanned out, splitting into smaller groups as they converged on the stream running through the forest. The sky deepened with sunset and the thousand lanterns shone as Jade realized, with a start, that they had once again reached the bridge in the story. Memories of their escape flooded back: letting go of Amah, crossing the river with Wren, tearing after Koichi and Shiro with the snakes in pursuit.

  “No sign of Imperial soldiers,” the Crimson Queen said in a low voice, sharp and alert. She and Sparrow led Jade’s party, along with ten of her strongest warriors. Several lone scouts zigzagged around the periphery, studying their surroundings. “Do you know the way from here?”

  “Yes,” Jade said, already spying the first blood-red lantern in the trees.

  They retraced the trail to the tengaru clearing. Every now and then, a scout appeared and nodded at the Crimson Queen to signal that all was quiet. Jade breathed through the knot in her chest, knowing it could not be long before they detected the presence of soldiers.

  In case of an ambush, four assassins would flank her and convey her to the clearing at any cost. No waiting for Wren and Koichi, no looking back. She had promised her friends, who had made her swear on it, despite how painful she found the thought of abandoning them to be.

  Jade glanced at them now as they rode together on the black stallion, wrapped in one cloak to disguise Koichi’s small form. Koichi sat in front searching for red lanterns while Wren’s eyes darted all around the forest, as though she were already a warrior of the Crimson Army.

  A low owl’s hoot came—the scout’s signal. She rode toward them noiselessly. “We found enemy signs,” she told the Crimson Queen, and Jade’s stomach dropped. “There are strange piles of black twigs scattered all around the perimeter. To what purpose, we don’t know.”

  Jade exchanged glances with Fu. “We’re close to the clearing now. It could be a trap.”

  “It almost certainly is,” the Crimson Queen agreed, her sharp features keen as she turned back to the scout. “Have you notified the others?”

  “Yes. We have passed the message on.”

  “And Min
g?” Jade asked anxiously. He had decided to ride alone, independent of the Crimson Army, cloaked and disguised as a traveler.

  “We were unable to locate him,” the scout told her. “He must have taken another path.”

  “There’s no time to worry about him now. We need to execute the plan.” Sparrow motioned to her lieutenants, who surrounded Jade at once. “The four of us will bring Jade through the clearing to the gate. She will do what she needs to do, and we will join . . .”

  She did not have time to finish her sentence.

  A great crackling reverberated through the woodland, echoing from the treetops. And then, one by one, the lanterns fell to the forest floor, knocked down by some unseen force.

  “Go!” the Crimson Queen roared.

  There was no time to say goodbye to Wren or Koichi as the personal guard steered Jade through the trees, Fu floating close by her side. She gripped her horse’s reins, breathless with terror as the lanterns continued falling all around them. Other objects dropped from the trees, too—elongated, slender, and black. One landed on Jade’s shoulders and she screamed as the snake’s thick, slimy body writhed down her back.

  Sparrow leaned over, grabbed the serpent, and flung it viciously at the trunk of a tree without losing rhythm as they charged through the forest, leaving the others behind. But now the rain of snakes had grown so thick and heavy that Jade could not avoid wrestling with a few that had landed on her horse, which bucked and tossed its head in panic. Her entire body shook with revulsion as she pushed their slick bodies onto the ground and tried to calm her mare.

  Flames broke out on the forest floor, wild and red and frantic, and the smell of acrid, burning leaves rose toward them. Jade whirled in horror to see the snakes on the ground urging the lanterns toward the many large black bundles: the scattered twigs the scout had mentioned.

  But Jade knew them for what they were—monstrous stacks of Xifeng’s black incense, which caught fire from the lanterns, sending up huge plumes of toxic smoke. As the flames rose higher and higher, the snakes began to grow, transforming until they stood on two legs as the horrible soldiers in Xifeng’s service. The lanterns had revealed their true serpent forms, but the poisonous black clouds returned them to their human shape, armored and armed to the teeth.