Jade Fire Gold(33)

Leiye’s bragging gets an approving smile from my father. I bristle, annoyed that I’ve appeared ignorant in comparison.

My father flips to another page and we turn our attention to an illustration of two beautiful swords. One white, the other black. On the opposite page, a map. I recognize the isles of Xinzhu, curved like a fisherman’s hook or a crescent moon, and nestled eastward across the Emerald Sea. My father points at a faint ink mark that looks like an accidental splotch at the southern end of the string of islands.

“Dragon’s Teeth Pass. Have you heard of it?”

I shake my head. He turns to Leiye who obliges.

“The pass is at the edge of the Dragon’s Triangle, which is in the Emerald Sea. It is an area prone to shipwrecks and the ships they do recover are often empty and missing their crew. Anyone found on board has exhibited signs of madness.”

“Sounds preposterous,” I say, quietly seething. This boy-priest keeps making me look bad in front of my father.

“The pass does exist.” My father’s raven eyes pin on me. “And that is where the White Jade Sword is rumored to be.”

“What are you saying, Father?” I stammer. “Do you believe in the tale of the blacksmith? Do you think I’ll be able to find the sword if it even exists?”

Taking in my discomfort, he folds the pages of the book neatly and wraps the red silk back around the book. “Let us take a walk.”

We leave the study, and my father gives instructions to an attendant outside who scurries away immediately. Then, he leads us out to the northern wing of the palace where traditionally, the Emperors of Shi have resided. I wonder if the crown prince lives here now.

We cross an empty courtyard huge enough to fit a battalion of soldiers, and head to an enormous building sitting on the top of a long flight of stairs so wide it could fit twenty men shoulder to shoulder. A five-clawed dragon dancing among swirls of clouds is carved into stone in the middle of the stairway. The mark of the emperor.

By the time we reach the pair of bronze guardian lion statues at the top, I’m panting, though my father and Leiye seem hardly affected by the physical exertion.

“This is the Dragon Pagoda,” my father says. “The seat of the emperor during the inspection of troops. We are only allowed to be here without the crown prince because he has not ascended the throne, and in the absence of an emperor, the military is under my purview.”

We head to the stairs inside. My legs ache as we climb, but I do my best to keep up. At the top, I’m rewarded by two things: the sight of teacups and plates of fresh fruits on the table in the balcony, and the magnificent sight of the capital.

My father looks ahead. “Beautiful, is it not?”

I nod enthusiastically.

“What do you see, Ahn?”

His tone catches my attention. He’s expecting something from me. I move to the edge of the balcony and look again, straining to see what it is my father wants me to notice.

From this height, the view extends over the front gates and fortress walls and down into the city. Buildings stretch as far as my eye can see, many with gilded roofs glistening. The streets are dotted with green and bustle with color—silks worn by the people. Water from fountains create sprays that shimmer gently, and everything looks idyllic.

I squint in the sunlight. It’s a clear day. Empty of clouds, the sky is an unblemished azure. The longer I stare, the more it reminds me of the sky over my village, over Shahmo. It’s the same sky that spans over the hundreds of towns south and west of Beishou, where there are no fountains and no clean streets. No rich silks, but plain cotton. No full bellies, but children who go to bed hungry every night.

No hope, but despair.

There’s a growing fury in me against the boy who will rule our empire. I’m sure his stomach is always full.

My hands grip the edge of the brightly painted railing as I speak. “I see a city that takes from the rest of the nation and doesn’t give back. I see a leader who doesn’t know the daily reality of his people, someone who is content to stay coddled within these walls. Maybe the crown prince needs to leave his palace before he takes his seat on the throne. Maybe he ought to earn that seat.”

I step back, wondering if my father will reprimand me for being disrespectful of the crown prince. To my surprise, he laughs.

“You may not know this, but the Empire is in jeopardy.” He holds a hand up to halt my questions.

He takes a seat while Leiye and I remain standing. Lines etch into his forehead, and I see white among his black hair. There’s a pang in my heart. His silver half-mask hides the pain of his past, but he suddenly looks too old, too weary. A man who has given everything to his country.

“Yes, there is a truce with Honguodi,” he continues. “But the transition of power is a time of extreme vulnerability for a nation. The crown prince is young and by all accounts, still grieving deeply. In his fragile state, we cannot hope to have a firm hand at the helm. So we must do what we can to ensure our nation’s survival in this difficult period of change.”

Next to me, Leiye stiffens. He’s looking intently at my father, though my father doesn’t notice. My suspicions rise. Does Leiye disagree? Does his loyalty lie with the damned priesthood and not the Dragon Throne?

“You are right, Ahn,” my father says. “Our land is diseased; it cannot support our people and our troops. We must think of the future. We need to secure our peace and prosperity, which means we need to find a way to get rid of the desert.”