Page 80 of For Ever More

Jin’s firefly.

Hope surges as I cup my palms. The firefly lands there, wings quivering—yet his once black eyes are now a feverish red.

Keep silent if you value Lord Jin-Yong’s life. Tell no one of what I say.

I freeze in shock. This soft, cruel voice infiltrating my mind belongs to Queen Chunlei. I drop the firefly like I’m scalded, but he flies up again, hovering menacingly before me. I swing around, afraid the queen is here. Except there is only the unbroken stillness. This is just a warning. A threat that she’s somehow managed to convey across the ocean, using Jin’s trusted messenger.

I stare into his fiery eyes. “What did you do to the firefly?”

An interesting creature that I took from Lord Jin-Yong. Before, only he could hear its words, but I’ve altered it so it can bear my message to you. Her voice thrums imperiously in my mind. If you want Lord Jin-Yong back unharmed, bring me the starfire that you stole from the waterfall. You have one week. Otherwise, he will be lost to you—forever.

My nails cut into my palms, her threat stabbing deep. The firefly’s wings flutter as he loops around me in a frantic rhythm. Without warning, a spark ignites inside him, the creature quivering as he falls to the ground—rolling onto his back, legs shriveled in neat rows across his tiny body.

The firefly is dead. This isn’t a negotiation, it’s a command.

I wrap the firefly’s body in a piece of cloth torn from my robe. I won’t bury him in this hostile land, but will bring him home to Thorn Valley. As I place the small bundle beside the carp’s bones in my pouch, my heart is heavy at the death of another innocent creature snared in these vicious schemes. Regret sears, grief wringing me. The Sun Dragon is dead. Jin is captured. And the only way to save him is to surrender the starfire, to betray not just my people but the entire realm.

Somehow, despite these burdens, sleep steals over me. My surroundings blur as I drift in the space between dreams and reality. I feel my pouch grow warm, imagining the Little Dragon’s bones within—shining, as luminous as the celestial light of the waterfall. Another image forms in my mind: of the bones lying beneath a magnificent Radiant Sky Tree, a perfect rose the shade of blood twined around its bark. The Ancient Grove.

The scene shifts abruptly, a coldness descending like frost. Here, the rose has withered, the tree that towers above succumbed to the sickness that took the others—its branches bare, its bark gone brittle and dull. The grove has turned into a wasteland, a graveyard of trees, white grass spearing the gnarled roots. Engulfed by dread, I turn to run—yet the rest of the forest is shrouded in decay, devoid of life, blanketed in what appears like snow. Even the ocean in the distance has turned murky and gray. Not a single person or creature appears, not even a flicker of a firefly. The Land Beyond in ruin.

My eyes fly open. Sweat coats my skin, my pulse racing. A nightmare, this can’t be real. Yet the carp’s bones are somehow in my hand, still warm, gleaming like a sliver of the moon.

The Mist Island soldiers find us shortly after, their arrival rousing Dian and Shenming. As my mount approaches, Jin’s horse circles us, searching for its missing rider.

Captain Hong rides toward me, his eyes narrowed. “Where is Lord Jin-Yong?”

“He is Queen Chunlei’s captive.” My throat constricts over these vile words. “They destroyed the waterfall, the Sun Dragon is dead.”

Captain Hong’s face is ashen as Shiji closes the gap between us. “If Jin was captured, why are you here? Why aren’t you doing something?” she snarls.

Numbed inside, I realize too late when Shiji raises her hand to me—Dian catching it in a viselike grip, her eyes ablaze. “Try that again and you’ll lose your arm.”

She should have let Shiji strike me. Maybe then I’d feel something, rather than this wretched emptiness within.

Shiji yanks free of Dian’s hold, swinging to me. “When you were taken captive at the Palace of Nine Hills, there was nothing Jin did not do to get you out. He fought with his uncle to secure the troops to save you, then rode like a madman across the lands. A dangerous quest only those most loyal to him were willing to undertake.”

Her rage blisters. She imagines I’m silent from shame, that I’ve given up—when the truth is I dare not share my treacherous thoughts. This price the queen demands is an impossible one that I should never consider… even as it whispers and winds through my mind, every other path closing rapidly.

To save the one I love, I must betray everything I hold dear.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

WE RIDE AT A RELENTLESS PACE, OUR HORSES SEEMING TO sense our urgency. At the chasm, Shenming’s soldiers coax the trees to bend as before, forming makeshift bridges. Once across, we continue our journey, only stopping for a few hours at night. Our pace is quicker, uninterrupted by attack or worry of the dragon’s condition—brutal and punishing—yet none complain. When my mind drifts to what Jin might be suffering, I resent even our brief rest, filled with rash impatience.

It’s late in the evening when we reach the forests close to Jin’s manor. As my horse skitters away from the trees, my spirits sink. Captain Hong and Shiji are grim as their eyes dart around. Gone are the fireflies and small creatures, whether hiding or turned hostile. Crimson thorns coil thicker around the trunks, glinting as though thirsting to pierce our flesh. A reddish sap leaks from where the thorns puncture the bark as if the trees are bleeding, my stomach roiling at the sight. The grass has browned, the dandelions snuffed out, leaving an air of desolation—of beckoning danger. The villages we pass are quieter, as though few dare to be out, more soldiers stationed around without any sign of the creatures that once helped guard them. Jin would be devastated; in our absence the curse that devours his land has worsened.

By the shore, those from Mist Island dismount. Some of the soldiers stroke their horses gently, before releasing them to gallop into the forest. Mine remains with me, as though sensing my reluctance to go.

“We will take our leave here,” Captain Hong says tersely. “We must inform Lord Chao of Lord Jin-Yong’s captivity.” Without another word, he and Shiji ride toward the manor.

Alongside Dian, I gaze into the ocean, the ripple of the dragon’s magic inside me a reminder of our failure. It fights me less now, no longer restless… almost resigned. I wish it weren’t mine, that I could have surrendered this power.

When I first came here, such hope filled me: dreams of home, family, of belonging. All came true—yet dread engulfs me at what lies ahead. I won’t give up on Jin, but I can’t surrender the starfire to the Queen of the Iron Mountains. A terrible secret to keep from Dian and the others, that I hold this vital element that could either protect or destroy us.

Lotuses drift across the waves, waiting to bear us home. Shenming and the soldiers step upon them, some already gliding out to sea. But I hesitate, my dream surfacing with startling clarity as I turn instinctively toward the Ancient Grove. Without Jin, who will protect it? I must check that our barriers still hold, to do all I can to keep it safe.

“There is something I have to do here. Could you wait for me—not the others, just you?” I ask Dian, bracing for refusal. She would be impatient to return to Ruilin and Father.