“You’ll just have to trust,” the Rabbit said.
“Trust you?” Mulan said.
“Yes, me,” the Rabbit said, “but also yourself.”
Mulan looked again at the wide abyss, the bottom shrouded by black shadows.
“I’ll go first,” the Rabbit said.
“We aren’t going together?” Mulan asked. “Black Wind isn’t going to carry us?”
“We would weigh him down. He’s already carrying all the bags,” the Rabbit said. “We should be able to carry ourselves.”
“But…” Mulan started, then realized there was nothing to say. “Will…how do I get Black Wind to jump?”
“He knows,” the Rabbit said, and he arched his head to Black Wind, his ears swaying. Black Wind whinnied. “You might want to take a running start like him. That might help.”
Then the Rabbit hopped to the cusp of the cliff as casually as if he were sauntering down a country path. There, he stopped, and then, as if skipping over a puddle, he jumped from the edge.
Mulan gasped as the Rabbit flew through the air, a shooting star at dusk. He grew smaller and smaller, a silver ball, then finally, a pale dot on the road across the canyon. The light-colored, distant speck hopped up and down, and Mulan could imagine the Rabbit calling to her, urging her to come. The Rabbit had made it across.
Black Wind nickered and Mulan reached up to embrace his head. “Well, he did it,” Mulan said to the horse. She made sure all the bags and the saddle were secure and then patted his neck. “What have the two of you been talking about without telling me?”
Black Wind whinnied again and nuzzled her neck. Mulan released him and he gave a small snort. Then he trotted around and behind her in a wide arch, lengthening the distance between him and the cliff.
Only when he had reached his desired span did he begin to run. Mulan felt the ground tremble as he galloped, dust billowing behind him.
Then he was past her and Mulan saw only haze as she coughed though his ballooning cloud. The grit had just begun to settle when she saw Black Wind give a mighty leap off the edge of the cliff. Mulan felt as if she were still breathing earth as she glued her eyes onto Black Wind’s lunging shape, hurtling through the pink-washed sky. Then, as lightly as a black butterfly, he landed on the other side. Mulan sighed with relief.
She swallowed. Now it was her turn.
“For an illusion, this canyon sure seems real,” Mulan said to the empty landscape. “I hope the Rabbit is right.” The Rabbit doesn’t know what he is doing, Daji had said. But there he was, far away, across the gorge—a small hopping spot next to the toy horse that was Black Wind. You’ll just have to trust, the Rabbit had said. He hadn’t asked her or tried to convince her, she realized. He had just trusted her.
Mulan looked at the canyon in front of her and took a deep breath. She began to run. She sped across the earth, faster and faster, her thudding feet matching the rhythm of her pounding heart. Her hair whipped behind her, the burning in her legs and lungs bringing her blood to a boil. Closer, closer, she pushed herself forward even while the gaping chasm seemed to grow bigger and wider, a mouth opening to swallow her. Closer. Closer. Almost there. And…there it was!
Mulan slammed her foot on the edge of the cliff and thrust herself forward with all her might. “AAAAHHHHHH!” Her own wild scream rang in her ears as she squeezed her eyes shut. She flung her arms into the open air as if hoping to grab onto the clouds as she fell.
But she wasn’t falling. Mulan opened her eyes. She was vaulting through the air, the wind shoving her across the gulf. The small shapes of Black Wind and the Rabbit grew larger and distinct. She began to see Black Wind’s mane and flaring nostrils and the Rabbit’s pointed ears and pink leg. Was she flying? The gentle pink of the sky had heightened, filling the sky with vivid, glorious color. As she strained forward, pressing her arm toward her companions, her hair and clothes streamed behind her, rippling like a proud banner carried to battle. Mulan wanted to laugh—she felt poised, powerful, and graceful.
Everything you are not. Daji’s words suddenly came back to her, and all at once Mulan felt the weight of the flask of honey in her sleeve. A ribbon of bloodred light streaked across the sky as the sun dropped below the horizon, and Mulan’s arm lowered with her doubt. The Rabbit’s eyes widened and he waved his front paws while Black Wind threw his head back and snorted a warning, but it was too late. Mulan was falling.
Her arms and legs flailed and she plunged downward, plummeting past the Rabbit and Black Wind. As they stared helplessly, a squeak of terror flew from her lips, echoing up to them as she disappeared into the darkness of the abyss.
MULAN TUMBLED downward, flapping her arms frantically like an overgrown chicken. She grabbed at the side of the cliff in vain, her fierce clutching merely causing a cascade of falling rocks and disintegrating dirt.
Then, magically, miraculously, her arm flew onto something solid. She grasped it desperately, digging her fingers into dusty stone as her legs bounced against the rocks.
Her feet dangling, she gasped to see that she was clinging to a ledge jutting from the side of the cliff. She flung her other arm onto it. She grunted, and, forcing herself to ignore the fire burning in her arms and lungs, she slowly and painfully dragged herself onto the precipice—one elbow, then the other, and then the rest of her, scraping and scratching.
When she finally felt solid ground underneath her, she simply lay there panting, her face buried in the dry dirt and stone. Every part of her body stung and ached, and for several long moments all she could do was listen to the pounding of her heart and marvel at its beat. At last, however, she dared to raise her head and sit up. Where had she landed?
Night had fallen, and everything around her seemed little more than different layers of darkness. She brushed off the pebbles and dust freckling her face and saw by the shadows that the ledge she was on seemed strong and sizable. Nevertheless, she decided it was best to be cautious, so, while still in a sitting position, she shuffled backward away from the edge.
But as she gingerly eased backward, something poked her back. Mulan yelped and almost jumped. She swung her head around and was surprised to see, in the dim light, the branch of a tree. She touched it to make sure, the rough bark reassuring her. It was a small tree, twisted and crooked, no doubt because of its inhospitable home—but it comforted her. Mulan pushed back to sit under it and found that now she could see the night sky. The bare branches of the tree silhouetted against the moon made it look like half of a sliced apple.
Mulan sat up. Half-moon? That meant half their time was gone! That gave them perhaps nine, ten days left? They hadn’t even gotten to the City of Rushing Water, much less Green Island or the Queen Mother’s garden! Were they going to run out of time to save Xiu? What was she doing here, sitting idly on a ledge?
But just as quickly as Mulan had sat up, she slumped back down. What could she do? How could she reach the Rabbit or Black Wind? The Rabbit didn’t know where she was; he probably thought she was dead at the bottom of the ravine.
It would be a mistake to bring a mortal, the Rabbit had said. Mulan suddenly felt as if she were plunging over the cliff’s edge again. He probably regretted it even more now, especially since she had turned out to be a mortal this inept. No matter how she tried, she never could get anything right. She remembered how, as a child, she had tried to glue back together the village shrine statue she had broken. No matter how strong she made the glue and however long she held the pieces, the wing of the stone phoenix fell off again. Yes, no doubt, the Rabbit was ruing the fact that he’d gotten stuck with such a mortal.