“So what else did you bring?” I asked.
“Passports,” she said. “We won’t need them in the mountains, but the Phoenix Empire is different.”
She rummaged in another pack and handed them over to me—two thin leather tubes with the usual gold-plated caps with electrical magical connectors underneath. One had my name burnt in thick characters along one side. I unscrewed that one and slid the parchment scroll into one hand.
“Are these real?” I asked.
“Yes and no,” Yún said. “Gan sneaked some of the official seals and connectors. I did the rest.” She shot me a quick glance. “I couldn’t hide that you and I and your mother had left Lóng City, but I didn’t want to let everyone in the palace know where you and I had gone. Just in case.”
Ah, yes. All those plots and schemes the ghost dragon king had mentioned.
“About my mother . . .” I swallowed and tried again. “About the tutoring shop. What did you—”
“Locked and doubled-locked,” she said. “I notified the watch that the shop’s owners were away. I said you’d traveled north, to Silver Moon City, to visit family. Then I bribed the watch captain to patrol twice as often in the neighborhood. That was Danzu’s advice.”
“You told Danzu?”
She snorted. “Of course not. He got the same story you told me. He won’t believe it any more than I did, but the shop ought be safe. Jing-mei and Gan promised to check every day, too. They’ll take care of the cats and make sure everything is fine. Oh, and I gave Jing-mei authorization to handle any business emergencies.”
At that, I nearly fainted. “But, but Jing-mei is an—”
“—extremely intelligent and capable young woman. Have you actually talked to her since last year?”
“Um, some. You really trust her?”
“Completely. So does Hai-feng Lo.”
I felt as though I’d walked into a magical mirror where everything had turned into its reverse. In the old folk tales, the hero always came up with some clever trick to overcome the problems of talking and fighting and thinking in reverse, but right now I didn’t feel very clever. I just felt tired and faintly queasy at the thought of Jing-mei running my mother’s tutoring shop.
Ma mi can only kill me once.
Unless she brings you back to life, Chen said helpfully. Like she did the griffin.
As if the beast had heard us, the griffin hopped down from its perch and waddled over to Yún. It butted its head against her hand and keened softly. Yún smoothed back its feathers and rubbed the back of its skull. The griffin leaned into the caress, humming oddly.
The air around me trembled.
Magic. I could smell it, taste it. If I closed my eyes, I could imagine myself back in my mother’s tutoring shop, with all the jumble of herbs, sharp-smelling potions, and the ever-present scent of magic. It was as if my mother had left her imprint upon me and the griffin both.
This creature might be the last spell my mother ever cast.
I furled the papers back into their scroll, and sealed everything into its leather case. By now I felt pretty stupid. Grateful but stupid. All those things I’d forgotten in my rush to start my journey. If Yún had not decided to chase after me . . .
“Thank you,” I said carefully. “You were very smart to make these. And to track me down. You didn’t need to go to all that trouble.”
Yún’s hand stilled over the griffin’s head. “Your mother is my teacher, Kai. And you are my friend. Of course I want to help.”
Friend. Yes. Well, that answered another question.
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
As if by common agreement, we decided it was time for sleep. Yún packed away our passports and other papers, then checked the pony one last time. I laid out our blankets and wrapped myself up tightly in mine. The wind had died off, and the rain had turned to drizzle. Every once in a while, one of the branches of the pine trees shifted, and water cascaded over the shelter’s roof and walls. A soft silvery pattering that would have soothed me any other night.
The griffin crawled over to me and poked its nose into my face.
Go away, I thought. You’re dead.
The griffin sniffed and crawled over to Yún’s side. I lay there, listening to its complaining chirps, Yún’s soft murmur as she soothed the beast into quiet. I told myself I was nervous, sleeping outside, even though I knew watch-demons didn’t patrol any roads outside the cities. It had nothing to do with Yún herself, lying a hand span away from me.