Forest of a Thousand Lanterns

by Julie C. Dao

  Xifeng glanced toward the door. “Please . . .”

  But his was an anger that had grown and festered for ten years, and there was no stopping it now. “Tell me, what more can I do to deserve you?” He yanked his arm from her reach. “Maybe you’re too busy missing your Guma’s beatings to see what’s in front of you, so I’ll tell you. I’m a good man, Xifeng. I let you have your own way and speak your mind . . .”

  “You think I don’t know that? That I’m so blind and stupid?”

  “Yes, I do!” he shouted, his face bright red. “I offer you the world . . .”

  “Yes, the world as you see it!”

  “I saved you from that evil woman!”

  “Only to trap me yourself.” She watched him turn away and run a trembling hand over his head. “I was Guma’s, and now you want me to be yours. I have my own soul and my own destiny, and I’m tired of belonging to someone else.”

  The wrath in Wei’s eyes made her take a step back. “I know what this is about. This has something to do with her scaring you into thinking you’ll lose your mind like your mother did.”

  Xifeng dug her nails into her palms. He was so close, too close to the truth.

  “She never thought I deserved you,” he said through gritted teeth. “So she made up some story about how you’re not destined to be with me, is that right? You’re such a child to believe her. The only magic that bitch has, and will ever have, is her foolish lies.”

  “You’ve never understood and you never will. Guma decides nothing for me where you’re concerned. Do you know how many beatings I’ve suffered to see you?” She shut her eyes, exhausted. “I can’t give you everything without the risk of losing myself in the process.”

  “You’re unnatural,” Wei breathed, his voice ragged with disbelief. “You’ll throw away something you have, for fear of losing it anyway. Do you see what she’s done to you? You are her creature.” He was frightening in his fury and despair, nothing close to the gentle lover she knew. “What if I were to kill her? Is that what I need to do to free you of this obsession? Shall I put my hands around her useless neck and squeeze the life out of her?”

  “She has nothing to do with you and me.”

  “She has everything to do with you and me!” he bellowed. He stormed to the doorway, shoulders convulsing. When he spoke again, he was so quiet she could barely hear him. “You think I’ll always be there and I’ll wait forever. But it’s not true, Xifeng. It’s not true.”

  She heard tears in his voice, and it felt like a sword had run her through. “You are why I was brave enough to leave her. You are my reason to live,” she pleaded, desperate to believe her own words even if they rang untrue.

  He braced one hand against the doorway, speaking in that strange, choked voice. “But not your only reason. You live to fulfill some destiny she saw for you.”

  Xifeng shut her burning eyes and pictured the card with the handsome warrior holding a bloodstained flower. That card appeared in each of Guma’s readings without fail. But how could they be sure of its meaning? And if the sacrifice called for was Wei, would Xifeng have to give him up so soon, before she had even reached the palace?

  For if this part of her destiny broke away before it was meant to, who was to say the rest of it wouldn’t disappear, too? She might be left with a future in which she had nothing at all.

  “You are part of my fate,” she said, tears choking her voice. “You’ve always been part of it and always will be. If you go, it will be all wrong, Wei.” She flung her words like a rope to keep him with her, but he was drifting and they could both feel it.

  He leaned his head against the wall. “I told the Crown Prince today you would accept his offer. He expects you at the palace tomorrow, to be introduced to his mother.”

  Xifeng stared at his drooping shoulders and the reddened, curved shell of his ear. “You knew. You knew I wouldn’t say yes.”

  “I knew.”

  “And you still asked me.”

  “I’m done. You’re free.”

  His words bled her dry. She sank to her knees, and behind her closed eyes, she saw an endless stretch of meaningless years in which they led separate lives. Years in which she did not occupy his every waking thought, as she did now. He would go on without her and perhaps grow to love someone else, someone unhindered and unafraid to give her whole heart. She believed she understood, in that moment, what her mother had died to escape.

  Xifeng felt flames igniting in her breast. She needed him. He was the warrior on the card, and his fate and hers were twin rivers carved into the earth, deep and permanent. She burned with the determination of it. “We will find a way to be together still,” she vowed.

  “You’ve got what Guma always wanted now,” he said bitterly. “And you’ll learn it’s more of a prison than marrying me could ever be. You’ll be locked away in that harem forever.”

  “I won’t believe that. I can’t.” She went to him, her heart a scorching bonfire of a storm, lightning raging from within her rib cage as she forced him to face her. “It’s not the right time for us to marry, but that doesn’t mean it never will be.” The lie slipped from her lips as easily as venom. She would not lose him. She would not lose her destiny.

  He scoffed and would have turned his tear-streaked face away, but she gripped his jaw, fingernails digging into his skin.

  “Everything I do will be for you. I helped you get into the army, didn’t I? I can do more from within the court. Is that not love enough for you? Why do I need to be your wife to prove you are the one I hope and dream for?”

  The words spilled out on their own, ringing with seductive power and promise. She would wrap her coils around him in tender confinement and be not his captive, but his captor. She felt him catching the edges of her fire, no matter how badly he wanted to resist.

  He gripped her wrist and pulled her close, fierce eyes meeting her own. “I don’t want your hopes and dreams,” he said in a voice like a fresh-hewn blade. “I want you to give all of yourself to me. To be as much under my spell as I am under yours.”

  She would not lose him, she thought as she took his hand and led him to the bed. She wouldn’t let him go, no matter how much he wanted from her that she couldn’t give. Their bodies fit together like interlaced fingers. And he need never know that to her, he was a mere possession: a cloak on her shoulders, the feathers on her wings. She needed him, but without her, he served no purpose. She would let him believe whatever he wanted.

  Later, he lay with his head pillowed on her breast and the tears drying upon his face.

  “I will always find a way to be with you,” she whispered tenderly. “I will break down the gates of the palace if that’s what it takes.”

  But he didn’t reply.

  And when Xifeng woke the next morning, she was alone in the bed, and he and all of his belongings had vanished.

  The Imperial Palace seemed to Xifeng an earthly rendering of the Dragon Lords’ home in the heavens. It shimmered through the gates, a colossus of gold roofs, pillars, and courtyards of stone. She stared at it with the strange sensation that it gazed back—recognized her. Her fate lay here, in this vast city of interconnected buildings linked by covered corridors, and in a moment she would enter.

  Will I ever come out again?

  She squared her shoulders and approached the guards. “The Crown Prince requests my presence,” she told them. They stared as though they had never seen anything like her. One of them had an eye that kept twitching suspiciously. “His Highness said to tell you I seek the Little Fisherman.” She had no idea what that meant, other than it was some sort of password Wei had left for her. But it seemed to work, for they stepped aside to let her through.

  “Find Master Kang in the Sunset Pagoda, at the top of the stairs,” the twitching-eye guard said pompously. “His Highness has instructed him to take you to Master Yu and Madam Hong.”


  Xifeng held her head high. She would not be intimidated by their scornful appraisal or the important-sounding names he had flung at her. At least, she could appear not to be intimidated.

  She crossed a courtyard of rocks like gray eggs, and a great emptiness rose up to meet her. A meditative, eerie silence reigned here, though guards in fine armor were stationed everywhere. It made her feel more alone than ever, and she felt Wei’s absence like a phantom limb.

  The ache was so sharp she had to pause for breath, his face swimming before her eyes. He had always been there, a thread of joy in her frayed life, and now he was gone, off to begin the life he’d lead without her. Had she done right to push him onto a different path? If only she’d been brave enough to tell him he was far too good for her. She was nothing but a selfish coward who could neither love him nor let him go.

  She despised herself. But there was nothing to do but live with her choice.

  With great effort, Xifeng climbed the sprawling steps to the first level of the palace. The royal family clearly revered nature, for all around her, the stern lines of the walls and pillars were softened by peony gardens, ponds full of brilliant blue-and-orange fish, and little red-roofed pavilions dotting the grass. Lanterns graced every archway and lined each flower bed, and she knew at night, they would shine among the blossoms like stars fallen from the sky.

  She passed grave, important-looking men, each with a different cap or symbol embroidered upon his clothing to mark his rank or position. She had no idea who they were supposed to be—only that they all appeared clean, well fed, and well rested.

  The Sunset Pagoda lay across the garden. It stood about twenty feet high, its vaulted ceiling supported by nine sturdy pillars, each carved with a blessing or prayer. It faced another pond full of sun-colored fish swimming joyfully against an imaginary current.

  As Xifeng came closer, she saw a man standing inside with his back to her. For a moment, she felt an irrational, overpowering fear, for his bald head and the powerful slope of his shoulders reminded her of the monster she’d seen in a bronze mirror, his brown monk’s robes fluttering in the wind. But he turned around with such a pleasant face, she went forward without hesitation, feeling foolish.

  “You are Master Kang?” she asked.

  His smooth, unlined face broke into a toothy smile, his eyes twinkling like pebbles in a stream. “I am indeed.” His lilting singsong voice rose above the normal pitch of a man. “And you are the maiden of whom the Crown Prince spoke so well. Xifeng, is it? A queenly name.”

  From his high voice, Xifeng knew he must be one of the eunuchs Hideki had advised her to befriend. He took a fan from his robes and fluttered it as he studied her, wrists twirling delicately. He looked to be a bit older than her, likely in his midtwenties. She tried to keep her eyes down with respect, but couldn’t help glancing at the shining yards of silk he wore, which were the soft hue of a mountain in summer.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” He plucked complacently at his long tunic embroidered with turtles. “Our seamstresses are very good. Though they did assure me this color wouldn’t suit me, and see how wrong they were?”

  Xifeng hid a smile. She found it hard to imagine him as scheming or powerful, the way Hideki had painted the eunuchs. But Guma had warned that cunning far outweighed physical might in the palace, and Xifeng might well believe it of this man, whose flippant manner did not entirely mask his intelligence.

  “You’re as beautiful as His Highness said, I’m afraid,” the eunuch remarked, continuing his friendly scrutiny. “All the ladies are talking of it, you know. I’m sorry to say you won’t be very popular.” His giggle shimmered like a dragonfly skimming over the pond.

  “I only seek the approval of Her Imperial Majesty.” After a beat, she added, “And yours, of course, if you’ll grant it to me.”

  Kang’s eyes crinkled. “Oh, yes, you’ll win my heart with that flattery, but I’m not popular enough to have influence here. I’ve been here ten years, and they still haven’t forgiven me for being the son of humble fishing folk.” He beckoned with his fan, and they began walking around the edge of the pagoda. “Tell me about yourself before I fling you into the nest of female vipers.”

  “There isn’t much to tell.” Xifeng briefly described her journey and newfound friends.

  “Ambassador Shiro, come at last,” Kang repeated, raising an eyebrow. “The Emperor has waited impatiently for him. I hear he carried important documentation.”

  The eunuch paused, waiting for her to elaborate, but she remained silent. Despite his harmless appearance, Xifeng knew he was likely searching for a way to advance—and it wouldn’t be through her, not where Shiro was involved. Not when she had herself to worry about.

  “Where are you from?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “Oh, a tiny village in the middle of nowhere.” He winked. “They aren’t fond of people like us rising to their station, though most of them weren’t born in a palace, either. That’s why you and I will be friends.”

  Xifeng gave a polite laugh, but privately resolved to keep her own counsel. It had been simple to fall into friendship with sensible, straightforward Shiro and Hideki. But the eunuch, for all his wrist-twirling, might be something else entirely.

  They passed a structure housing fruit trees and medicinal gardens smelling of mint, sage, and lemongrass. Each building boasted ornate windows and intricately chiseled doors of fine wood. The price of one, Xifeng felt sure, would be enough to feed her entire town for a full year. In the adjoining courtyard stood another edifice equipped with a stage for palace theatricals, which adjoined the musicians’ quarters and the scholars’ complex.

  “The mathematicians, lawmakers, poets, and other intellectual servants of the Emperor live there,” Kang explained.

  He led her across a covered bridge offering a view of the Imperial City, with the forest wrapped around it like an emerald serpent. Directly ahead of them stood a stone gate a hundred feet high, over which Xifeng saw a cluster of slanting scarlet roofs.

  “The ‘city of women,’ as we call it,” Kang said. “The Emperor’s women are guarded like jewels. There are no aboveground entrances to the harem, save the Empress’s personal walkway. We can’t have naughty men coming in to soil what belongs to the Emperor.”

  Perhaps Wei had been right about it being a prison. But there is always a way out, Xifeng reassured herself, pressing her clammy palms against her tunic. The tengaru queen had told her she possessed water in her constitution, an element of a most resourceful nature.

  Still, she found it hard to be optimistic when they came to a staircase leading directly into the ground.

  “This is one of only three entrances,” Kang informed her. “A long tunnel links it to its sister passage, which opens somewhere in the Imperial City. The third is the walkway I spoke of. It is the grandest, used only by the Empress and her servants when she attends royal functions in the main palace. All are heavily guarded.”

  Xifeng could see that for herself. A pair of armed eunuchs flanked the stairs, and another pair opened the barricaded door below for them. Instantly, she and Kang were swallowed up by the darkness. He removed a torch from the wall and held it aloft in the eerie gloom.

  The long stone passageway was wide enough for her fingertips to brush each wall. Aside from their footsteps, she heard no sound except for the dripping of water. The air felt moist, stagnant. Every so often, another corridor branched off into blackness on either side.

  “I wouldn’t wander down any of those. Some of them have caved in and the air isn’t always safe, but if you have a torch and it goes out, you’ll be warned. Not to fear, as this main passage is perfectly harmless,” Kang added when she put a panicked hand on his shoulder.

  “I know the Emperor wants to protect the women,” Xifeng said shakily. “But why do these tunnels have to run underground?”

  “They’re easier
to protect, I imagine. The earth itself acts as an additional impediment.”

  The pools of darkness and contorting light gave her a sickening feeling. Would she hear slithering, if she stood still long enough?

  At last, they came to another stairway leading up to a heavy door and Kang led the way outside into an exquisite walled garden. Xifeng followed him with relief, staring at the sunny, lush greenery of her surroundings. The willow trees beckoned with their sweet-smelling trunks, and flowers bloomed in every shade. Butterflies danced over the stream, which was crystal clear and wide enough for a rowboat. The compound comprised three magnificent buildings, each several levels high and connected to the others by elaborate walkways and balconies.

  The tengaru clearing had been magnificent in its natural beauty. But this was a spectacle, a display of wealth only the Imperial family and the world of women within would ever see.

  “Come. Master Yu is waiting.”

  Xifeng followed Kang through a doorway carved with a phoenix rising into the sun. Bamboo mats lined the room they entered, soft, clean, and warm. A lighter wood had been used for the furniture here, and cream-colored lanterns sat on trays of green and gray stones.

  A short eunuch in sky-blue robes lifted his head. He had been writing at an elegant oak desk, an ink-dipped brush poised in one hand while the other held back his sleeve. He looked to be in his fifties and wore an expression of annoyance. His eyes, sharp as black glass, took in Xifeng in one sweep.

  Kang bowed low to him. “Master Yu, the Empress’s chief eunuch,” he said, for Xifeng’s benefit. “Sir, I have brought the maiden of whom the Crown Prince spoke.”

  Xifeng inclined her head, sensing the man’s disapproving stare on her. She kept her gaze on the table, where his calligraphy stood out dark and swirling against a pristine page. He had been composing a poem; she caught the words dove and twilight of the years.

  “So this is what the Little Fisherman has caught for us,” Master Yu said, and Xifeng’s eyes flickered upward at the password. “I am surprised by the Crown Prince’s choice.”