“So the great City of Bright Moonlight was built because of a paper,” Yishan said after Pinmei ended the story.

“Well, it was a magic paper,” Pinmei said, but most of the despair had left her. Perhaps telling Amah’s story was magic as well, for Pinmei felt strengthened.

“And is the Paper still there?” Yishan asked.

“No, Amah said the Paper was given away and…” Pinmei sat up. “Yishan,” Pinmei continued slowly, “there’s no Paper in the City of Bright Moonlight, but there is a dragon’s pearl. Amah told me one of the kings of Bright Moonlight gave away the Paper of Answers and received a dragon’s pearl in return!”

Pinmei’s rice spilled onto her lap, but neither she nor Yishan noticed.

“A dragon’s pearl?” Yishan said. “Dragon’s pearls glow! A dragon’s pearl—”

“Could be a Luminous Stone That Lights the Night!” Pinmei finished.

“Then let’s go to the City of Bright Moonlight,” Yishan said, “and get that dragon’s pearl!”

“But it might not be!” Pinmei protested. “I just said a dragon’s pearl could be a Luminous Stone!”

“Well, we should go to the city and see,” Yishan said. “It’s our best chance of saving Amah!”

“But—but—” stuttered Pinmei. A hundred thoughts flew into her mind like a flock of upset crows. Go to the city? Save Amah? We couldn’t. I couldn’t.

“Pinmei!” Yishan said in frustration. “You think and think and watch and watch. When are you going to stop watching? It’s time to do something!”

When it is time for you to do something, you will do it, Amah had said. Pinmei closed her eyes, imagining Amah’s face gazing at her, as steady and gentle as the moon. When Pinmei looked up, Yishan’s eyes were piercing hers, daring and encouraging at the same time.

“All right,” Pinmei said. “Let’s go.”

CHAPTER 9

“Do you even know how to get to the City of Bright Moonlight?” Pinmei asked. The snow fell upon them softly, like sifted salt, and their footsteps quietly thumped as they walked.

“Of course,” Yishan said. “You don’t?”

Pinmei shook her head. “I don’t remember,” she said. She could count the number of times she had been down the mountain on her hand. “Whose boots are these? They seem a hundred years old!”

Before they had left his hut, Yishan had tossed some robes and boots at her from a chest that looked as ancient as the gang Pinmei had hidden in. It had been almost comical how fast Yishan had moved once Pinmei had agreed to go. He had jumped up as if he were a lit firecracker, running into the other room, collecting food and clothes. I guess he’s afraid I’ll change my mind, Pinmei had thought with a wry smile.

“They’re Meiya’s, from when she was a girl,” Yishan said, his voice muffled as he pushed ahead of her to lead.

Auntie Meiya. Pinmei felt as if the water she had sipped was freezing in her stomach. Amah is alive, Pinmei told herself fiercely. Yishan could not say the same about Auntie Meiya. Before Pinmei could say anything aloud, Yishan called out, “There’s your hut! Maybe you can get some of your own stuff there.”

As they got closer, they both saw how unlikely that was. The stones of the hut walls were charred, while the remains of the burned chairs and tables lay strewn on the floor. A dark, brittle ash flew in the air like dying moths.

Pinmei stood and cried. Was that scorched mass in the corner her bed? And was that crumbling mound of cinders all that was left of her clothes? Her tears flowed and flowed as if they were still trying to extinguish the already-departed flames, and the freezing wind wrapped around her. Yishan stood behind, awkwardly patting her arm.

“It’s not that bad,” he said unconvincingly. “I’ll look around.”

Pinmei said nothing and found herself staring at the old gang, blackened where flames had licked it. Had it only been last night? She could still feel Amah’s gentle hand on her head, the soft weight of it anchoring her. Pinmei tried to wipe away her tears.

“I found something,” Yishan said, his voice startling her. “Look!”

Pinmei ran to him, standing in what used to be Amah’s room. He was bending over a box, burned almost beyond recognition. The cover fell to pieces as he held it up, but inside was something Pinmei had never seen before. It was a quilted jacket made of hundreds of different-colored patches. The colors were so vivid in the bleakness of the ruins that the jacket seemed to glow. As Pinmei reached to take it, something fell from its sleeve. Both Pinmei and Yishan stared at the green circle in the snow. It was a jade bracelet.

CHAPTER 10

His eyes were closed. Every time he opened them, there was a brightness so dazzling his eyes felt as if needles were pricking them.

What had happened? He had been floating lazily in the Lake of Heavens. The black water was lapping against his giant shell, and the twinkling fishes were swimming around him.

Then, from nowhere, he was thrust into the water. Down he plunged, deeper and deeper. He had screeched and thrashed, but no matter how he struggled, he was forced downward. The water thinned. His arms and legs lashed out, but his claws were as useless as knots of thread. The glaring color poured around him.

What was this place?

He forced his eyes to stay open, making them adjust to the brightness.

Gold.

All he saw was the color gold. A garish, dazzling gold that gleamed and flashed.

He winced and tried to move away, but his arms and legs shoved only silken air. It was then that he felt the heaviness on his back. Something was holding him down!

Was he a prisoner?

CHAPTER 11

Amah’s limbs ached with weariness. Bound and flanked by the iron arms of a soldier, she wasn’t used to the jerking motion of a galloping horse, and now that they had stopped, she felt her arms and legs tremble. Yet, despite their curtness, the soldiers, surprisingly, had not been rough with her. They were kinder to her than they were to the long line of chained men staggering together. Those prisoners had been yelled at and whipped mercilessly, and Amah would have wept if she were not so horrified.