Fox and Phoenix (Lóng City 1)

“Of course. I will inquire.” He didn’t look surprised. These rooms were spiked, then.

The man consulted another screen off to one side. He tapped a few keys. “His Imperial Majesty will receive you in the Emeralds-of-Heaven audience chamber in half an hour. You may have ten minutes of his time. Does that suffice, Your Highness?”

“A more than generous allotment,” Lian said. “Thank you.”

She switched off the calculor and returned th

e machine to its slot. For a moment, she did nothing but stare into the distance, as though Yún and I were invisible.

(As though she sat alone on Lóng City’s throne.)

At last, she gave herself a shake. Her mouth twitched into the barest of smiles. “My presence here is different from most other students’. The emperor specifically invited me to stay at his court. I cannot leave unless I petition him. But there is no need for you to concern yourselves,” she said, as Yún started to rise. “Stay here and rest. I shall have the servants bring you refreshments.”

She clapped again. More servants appeared from nowhere to receive orders. Once she delivered them, Lian herself vanished through a side door, trailed by a dozen maids.

“She’s very upset,” Yún whispered.

“Upset, or angry?”

Yún eyed the doorway where Lian had disappeared. “She is like her father,” she said in soft voice. “Very proud. Which means she would hate to hear me say such a thing.”

A collection of servants arrived with trays, bearing tea and pastries stuffed with magic crabmeat. From the next room, we could hear Lian’s raised voice. More servants hurried between nearby rooms, fetching piles of clothing, from brilliant emeralds and ruby to sober-hued grays and darkest indigo. Others flitted around with brushes and combs and jewelry boxes. Watching them, I forgot to eat, except when Yao-guài pecked at my hands.

Sooner than I expected, Lian reemerged from her dressing room. She wore layers of shimmering robes, ivory and emerald green and black, with gems at the sleeves and all along the hemline. More gems sparkled from her hair, which she now wore in a complicated arrangement. “This shall not take very long,” she said.

She swept out the door, leaving a faint cloud of jasmine perfume in her wake.

“Very proud,” I whispered.

“Shi,” Yún said, hushing me. “She worries about her father.”

Remembering how my mother had grieved for my father, I shut my mouth on any comeback. Yún was right. Lian would not show any tears or anxiety in front of us, never mind the rest of the world. Ai-?i. Now I wished I had broken the news more easily, instead of blurting it out, but my words were like kites on broken strings, swooping away from all recall.

Glumly, I stared at the piles of fragrant, no doubt tasty food. “I wish Chen were here.”

“And I wish Qi were here,” Yún said. “I thought they’d catch up with us by now, but—”

“Maybe they’re hunting clues and got sidetracked. Chen does that sometimes.”

“Maybe.” But Yún didn’t look any more convinced than I felt.

She picked up a chopstick and poked at one of the pastries without any enthusiasm.

I sighed and poured myself a cup of tea (which reminded me uncomfortably of Quan’s exquisite smoky tea).

We had all changed forever. Me, Yún, and Lian. All the rest of my gang. Which wasn’t my gang anymore. Briefly I wished I could recite a magic spell and transport us all back to a time when all we cared about were running pranks and tricks in the Pots-and-Kettles Bazaar. But my mother was right. I wasn’t a child any longer. Even the most complicated magical spell in the world couldn’t change that.

I miss you, Ma mi

“Kai, what’s wrong?”

Yún watched me with those large dark eyes.

“Besides the obvious?” I asked, then flipped my hand to one side. “Sorry. I’m just worried about Chen and Qi.”

I poked at a pyramid of steamed dumplings. No good. My appetite had vanished. Restless, I let my feet carry me into another room off the bedchamber. It was a sitting room, decorated with paintings. They were all pictures of Lóng City, I realized. There was the Golden Market on a feast day; there the main temples and the monks parading in crimson robes; there a view from the high walls, with the whole city poured over the mountainside.

(She misses home.)