had always told her to wait, too. He’d teased her for being impatient, for wanting to prove her worth. Except Shang was a boy. He knew he’d get to prove himself one day. And me… Her chest tightened, and she remembered her last dinner at home, the last fight she’d had with her baba.
You shouldn’t have to go, she’d said.
Mulan!
There are plenty of young men to fight for China.
It is an honor to protect my country and my family.
So you’ll die for honor.
I will die doing what’s right!
But if you—
I know my place! It is time you learned yours.
She’d been so petulant, so angry. And yet, she didn’t regret going in his place. Only that she’d deceived her family.
“Ping,” said General Li, breaking her thoughts. “Shang’s life is not supposed to end like this. You may think I say that because he is my son, but it is more than that. His heart has always been in protecting his family, his country—his friends. He is too young to die. There is much more good he can do for China. You must make him see that his path is this life.”
“I will,” she said fiercely. Mulan looked up at Shang’s father, meeting his eyes. “I promise I’ll find Shang, and I’ll bring him back.”
Her determination brought a sad but hopeful smile to the general’s face. “I believe you. I do not know if I will see you again, Ping. When you find Shang, tell him he has…he has honored me greatly. And tell him I’m sorry…I’m sorry we never had the chance to fight together.”
Mulan’s throat dried, and no words could crawl out. She simply bowed her head.
“Go. You have my trust.”
Those words again. Why did the words prick at her conscience so much? Shang had spoken them to her only hours ago, honoring her. His words had hurt her then, too. She hadn’t deserved them.
She managed a meager smile. “I won’t let you down, General.”
With a curt nod, General Li stepped behind the mist and was gone.
Mulan turned to the portal, her eyes on the Tower of the Last Glance to Home in the distance, then on the full moon hanging above. The dark band ringing the moon was definitely getting thicker.
She stepped through the door. I’m coming, Shang.
They found themselves at the bottom of a stony hill, a short distance from the Tower of the Last Glance to Home. There was something lonely about the tower, Mulan felt. Other than its brightly painted walls, its faded scarlet windows and yellow roofs, it reminded her of one of the austere watchtowers she’d seen on paintings of the Great Wall protecting China.
ShiShi was quiet. Mulan supposed seeing the general’s spirit in Diyu had had a profound effect on him.
The sky shifted above them, lightening into a dismal gray.
The moon remained, though. It was paler and softer than the moon she was used to seeing in the living world, as if someone had pulled a swathe of gauze over its face.
Mulan inhaled. A familiar, spiced smell lingered in the air. It was faint, but there was no mistaking it.
“Do you smell that?”
ShiShi nodded. “Incense.”
From the top of the tower, Mulan thought, gazing up.
At the tower’s base was a small, rectangular opening—too narrow for ShiShi to enter.
Mulan and ShiShi exchanged a glance. She’d have to go alone.
The guardian frowned, but didn’t argue. “Remember what General Li told you. And don’t take your time.”
Mulan gave a curt nod.
“Ping,” ShiShi added, “don’t tell Li Shang about King Yama’s deal just yet. Give him some hope. He needs something to live for.”
Mulan tilted her head, touched by the lion’s thoughtfulness. “All right.” She hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
“Even if I could, it wouldn’t be right.”
“Why not?”
“Why?” ShiShi blustered. “Because…” He stopped. “Why should I bother explaining to you the intricacies between guardian and man? Your guardian is a house lizard. Enough of this. Go, go.”
Not needing to be told twice, Mulan hurried up the stairs.
The smell of incense grew stronger, heavier, the higher she went. It used to make her sleepy when she was a child—back then, Grandmother Fa often took her to their family temple to pray for their ancestors. Young Mulan had always had to stifle a yawn when it came to her turn to hold the incense and bow to the ancestors’ spirits at the altar.
But now, she was anything but sleepy. Her adrenaline high, she ran faster, ignoring the flickering shadows from the candles tracing her figure as