In the morning, a happy group of friends had run down to the beach and plunged into the water. Well, Steelfang and his wolves had plunged in, anyway, Stripey thought. Floridiana had needed to be dragged away from her sketchbook, and Lodia had needed a lot of encouragement before she dared so much as dip her toe in the water. It was a sadder, wetter, much more injured group who returned to Flying Fish Village.
And they hadn’t all returned.
“Oh, Ssstripey! Ssshe’s gone! Ssshe’s gone again!”
Heedless of either of their injuries, Bobo flung herself at him and wrapped her body around him from neck to tail. She bumped his wing, and he squawked.
“Oh, sssorry! Sssorry! Are you okay?”
She unwound the top third or so of herself so she could lean back and scan him. That was when he got a good look at the long, shiny, melted lines that crisscrossed her scales.
Bobo! What happened to you?
She shrugged, which, considering that she was wrapped around him, felt more like being choked. “It’s not a big deal. The jellyfisssh ssstung me, that’s all.”
“That’s all”? he repeated incredulously. What do you mean, that’s all? You look – you look –
“I sssaid I’m fine! I’m alive, aren’t I? Rosssie’s gooooone!”
She burst into tears. Her sobs wracked her body, which in turn jostled all of his bruises and cuts and broken bones. Working his good wing free, he patted her on a part that looked less melted.
There, there. It’ll be okay. It’s not the first time she’s died on us. She’ll find us again. She promised she would.
A sniffle. “Did ssshe? Did ssshe sssay ssshe would? Did ssshe promissse ssshe would?”
Yes. Right before – he quickly changed what he had been about to say – the end. She looked me in the eye and said, “I’ll find you. No matter where or what I am, I’ll find you.” There, see? Nothing to worry about. Now, if you could loosen yourself a bit –
“It was my fault!” wailed a new voice. The latest human girl whom Piri had adopted, Lodia, ran up to them. One of the village elders had already splinted her arm, and she cradled the sling to steady it. “I’m so, so, so sorry! She wouldn’t have died if it hadn’t been for me! It was all my fault!”
At the sight of someone in greater distress, Bobo immediately let go of Stripey and slithered over to Lodia. Taking much more care than she had with him, she draped a coil over the girl’s shoulders and rubbed them soothingly. “It’s not your fault. Of courssse it’s not your fault. How could it be your fault? It was a misssunderssstanding. They thought we were invading. They didn’t give us time to explain that we jussst wanted to play in the water.”
The girl hunched over as if she were trying to disappear into the sand. “It was, it was, he said it was. He said I offended a goddess, so he was here to kill me. This was all my fault!”
Stripey felt as if a tidal wave had just crashed over him. He said you offended a goddess, he repeated slowly. Each word felt unreal. A goddess.
“Yes! A goddess! I don’t know how anything I do is important enough to offend anyone, let alone a goddess!”
Stripey rather thought that taking up the mantle of the Matriarch of a temple that was collecting offerings solely for one god counted as “important,” but he didn’t have time to argue with her right now. Listen to me, Lodia. I need to know: Which goddess?
“He didn’t know, he said he didn’t need to know – oh! But Pip said something! Just before – you were there too! Something about a star?”
Stripey shook his head regretfully. I was too far away to hear. Do you remember anything else about the star?
“Um, um, it was a long name. Or title. The Star of…something. She – Pip – got it wrong the first time. The Star of – of – ” Lodia’s face screwed up in frustration. “Reflected something. Reflected…Reflected…Light? Brilliance? No, that’s not it…. I can’t remember!”
“Brightness,” came Floridiana’s voice from behind them.
It lacked her usual crisp energy, but then she, too, had one hand pressed to a bloody bandage on her side. Den hovered over her as anxiously as if his future reincarnations depended on keeping her alive. Which, from what Piri had told Stripey, they did. But he didn’t think that was the reason.
“It’s the Star of Reflected Brightness,” Floridiana told them. At their blank faces, she blew out an exasperated breath. “You know, the goddess that Empress Aurelia turned into after she died? The last empress of Serica, whom she had killed?”
“She…?” Lodia lifted her head at last. Tears streaked her cheeks, her eyes were puffy, and her nose was lychee-red. “Um, I know I’m not supposed to know this, and I don’t understand how it could be because it doesn’t make any sense, but…somehow, Pip is – was – Lady Piri, wasn’t she…?”
Stripey traded glances with Floridiana and Den. Well, she was bound to figure it out at some point.
“Would have been safer if she hadn’t,” the mage muttered, before saying in an emphatic whisper, “Never say that out loud again. You never know who’s watching or listening.” In case the girl hadn’t understood, she rolled her eyes Heavenward.
Lodia gulped. “But she’s not like…that anymore. She’s even helping the Divine Intercessor. Why would – why would they still….”
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Floridiana put a gentle hand on the crown of Lodia’s head. “You’ve seen how many factions there are in the South Serican court, haven’t you? Imagine what it would be like if each of the courtiers were infinitely powerful, and immortal too.”
“They’re not infinitely powerful,” Den murmured but didn’t elaborate.
“I messed up the politics, didn’t I?” Lodia asked miserably. “I never get the politics right. I messed up, and she had to come save me, and the oystragon killed her for it. It’s all my fault.”
Bobo rubbed her back in big, soothing circles. “It’s not your fault, it’s not your fault. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s the goddess’, not yours.”
Den sucked in a sharp breath. “Bobo, don’t say that!”
“But it’s true!” she snapped. Her eyes were over-bright. “Why should anybody have to die jussst becaussse they messsed up sssome politics or offended the wrong perssson? It’s not fair! It’s not right! I won’t ssstand for it!”
Bobo, said Stripey, it’s just the way the world works. On Earth and in Heaven.
“Well, it ssshouldn’t be! It’s wrong. We’re re-founding the Empire, aren’t we?” She glared at them until everyone nodded. “What’s the point of re-founding the Empire if it’s going to be as awful as it usssed to be? We have to make it better. We’re going to make it better this time!”
Better? Stripey opened his beak to tell her what he, Floridiana, and Den were all thinking, which was that that was a lost cause if they’d ever heard one.
But Lodia beat him to it. “Yes,” she said. The word came out quietly but firmly, with no hint of compromise. “Yes. Bobo, you’re right. We have a chance to do it all over. We’re going to make it better. We have to make it better. For Pip. So she didn’t die in vain.”
Looking at her determined expression, Stripey decided not to tell her that Piri, in whose name they were re-forging a more virtuous Empire, almost certainly preferred her politics with a dose of corruption. A hefty dose, no less.
----------------------------------------
In Heaven:
“No! I can’t believe it! She survived! How did she survive?!”
A porcelain vase sailed across the office of the Director of Human Lives. It shattered against a display of little clay humans, sending translucent shards spinning everywhere. The shelf itself creaked and cracked, then collapsed, spilling the precious figurines towards the floor.
“No!” shrieked the Goddess of Life. Those were the first original humans, shaped from river clay by the hands of Lady Nu and given life by the breath of the great goddess. The Jade Emperor Himself had granted them to the Goddess of Life when she became the Director of this Bureau. “Stop!”
The figurines froze midair.
“Mend.”
At her command, the pieces of wood flew back together, knitting themselves back into an ornate shelf. The figurines floated back into their positions. In slow motion, the shards of porcelain fit themselves together into a vase.
The Goddess of Life sank into her chair and massaged her temples. How could the Dragon Commander have botched the simple elimination of a single human girl? Humans were such fragile creatures. They died at the drop of a hair stick. Disease, starvation, accident, childbirth, murder, old age – the options were endless! Well, maybe not starvation, childbirth, or old age, since she’d wanted Koh Lodia removed quickly, but that still left a virulent disease, a tragic accident, or straightforward murder.
How hard could it be to murder one human girl? Even a human girl protected by one former nine-tailed fox?
Apparently, very, given that the ruler of all dragons himself couldn’t get it right!
A tentative tap came on her door, probably her head clerk bearing more documents for her to skim and stamp with her official seal. She’d thought that she knew all about paperwork from essentially acting as the Director of Reincarnation on behalf of the ever-absent Kitchen God. She hadn’t realized until her dreams were granted and she received her own Bureau that there was even more paperwork for an official Director to deal with. Back at the Bureau of Reincarnation, the sour-faced, humorless Superintendent, Glitter, had handled more of it than she’d realized.
Now, here, it was all her responsibility.
Schooling her voice to calm, she called, “Come in!”
As expected, her head clerk came in and prostrated himself before her desk.
“Oh, do get up,” she snapped. “It’s a waste of my time to go through this rigmarole every time you have a new document for me to stamp.”
“Yes, Heavenly Lady.” Even his voice, as colorless as the vase she’d just repaired, grated on her nerves. He rose, keeping his head bowed.
“Well? What do you have for me this time?”
Still without looking up, he proffered a scroll and a lacquered box in both hands. “The Assistant Director of Reincarnation sends his regards, my lady.”
“I’m sure he does. Let us see what kind of gift the Star of Heavenly Joy sends to curry my favor.” She couldn’t keep the contempt out of her voice as she lifted the lid.
Inside, nestled on silk brocade, were three large peaches. Their fragrance wafted out of the box and filled her office. Her eyebrows rose slowly.
“Not bad, if these are what I think they are. Clerk! Do you think they are genuine peaches from the Queen Mother of the West’s orchard?”
He shuffled from one foot to the other before he remembered himself and held still. “I must apologize, my lady. Never having seen one of the Peaches of Immortality up close, I could not say whether these are genuine or not.”
Useless star sprite. Had whoever assigned clerks purposely saddled her with the most incompetent staff?
“However,” he continued, “I have heard rumors that the Star of Heavenly Joy is…close to one of the Star of Reflected Brightness’ handmaidens. As an employee of the Bureau of the Sky, she may have special access to the gardens…?”
Maybe not so useless after all. Even if it were an open secret that, just as he had on Earth, the former Emperor Cassius had once again gone after his former wife’s handmaidens. And if he had gone to the trouble of obtaining Peaches of Immortality, then his message was worth skimming, at least. She extended the scroll to the clerk, who unknotted the silk cord so she wouldn’t damage her nails.
The Assistant Director of Reincarnation sends respectful greetings to the Director of Human Lives, he had written in adequate calligraphy. I find myself troubled by a particularly complex case, which records show that you handled personally during your tenure at the Bureau of Reincarnation. If you might spare a moment of your time, I would be honored to receive any guidance you may have to offer on the role to which I have so recently been promoted, and in which you served so admirably as my predecessor.
A particularly complex case that she had handled personally, was it? Even though she had handled countless complex cases personally during her tenure, she could think of only two that would draw the former emperor’s attention. One was that of the Star of Scholarly Song, his former cousin, whom she had returned to the cycle of reincarnation on orders of the Bureau of Academia and the Jade Emperor’s own deputies.
The other was that of one former nine-tailed fox, to whom the Goddess of Life had personally granted the gift of retaining her memories when she reincarnated, as recompense for Cassius’ own overreach. It would be an affront for him to revoke that gift without her express permission.
And just now, the sparrow reincarnation of aforementioned nine-tailed fox had helped Koh Lodia defy the death decreed for her by the Goddess of Life.
Well. Who said you couldn’t kill two sparrows with one stone?
The Goddess of Life’s lips curved up into a smile. “Draft a reply to the Star of Heavenly Joy,” she commanded her head clerk. “Tell him that I would be happy to share the experience I gained during my tenure as Assistant Director of Reincarnation. Invite him here for tea.”