Then, in the space of a breath, Mulan was being hauled over the edge. Her legs bounced as she jostled over, causing a cascade of dirt and stones. She let go of the Rabbit’s paw and scrambled onto the ground, the yellowing grass clasped between her fingers feeling as soft as the finest silk threads. The horizon swelled in front of her, the blue sky meeting the earth in a long line broken only by the figures of Black Wind and the Rabbit, who stood expectantly. She looked up at both of them and grinned.
“I’m so happy to see you,” Mulan said fervently.
MULAN SAT up, the euphoria of escaping the cliff dissipating as thoughts of their undertaking returned. Black Wind’s warm nose pushed against her neck and the Rabbit hopped over to her, his paw back to its normal size without a hint of its miraculous reaching abilities.
There seemed so much more for her to say—how thankful she was that he’d saved her, how she hoped they could keep going and worried that they were running out of time, and mostly how sorry she was that she had failed in her jump. Mulan suddenly flushed with shame, feeling as if she had drunk too-hot tea. What did the Rabbit think now? Was he annoyed about how right he had been about having to bring a mortal with him? Was he thinking that she was so unworthy and useless that they should just give up?
When Mulan finally dared to meet the Rabbit’s eyes, she saw he was looking at her with his usual amused expression, but also with a certain tenderness.
“I’m sorry,” Mulan said. The words were so bare and bald, yet they were all she could utter.
“What for?” the Rabbit said.
“For…for…”—Mulan hesitated—“being mortal.”
The Rabbit laughed. “That’s not something to apologize for,” he said.
“No…I mean, you said it would be a mistake to take a mortal with you,” Mulan said, trying to explain. “I’m sorry you were right.”
The Rabbit’s laughter immediately stopped and instead his face took on a pained expression.
“No, it is I who owe you an apology,” the Rabbit said. “When I said that I was thinking of someone else I took on a journey, and it was not because she was mortal that it was a mistake.”
“You journeyed with someone else? Who?” Mulan asked.
He looked at her with a sadness she had never seen before. “There is much to her story that I cannot tell,” the Rabbit said, his ear drooping, “but I can say who she was.”
When this field was covered by the sea and immortal beasts like dragons and phoenixes could roam the Earth without disguise, there was a girl who knew her mother did not want her. She did not know of the times her mother had tried to abandon her as a baby only for her to be brought back miraculously by beasts or woodcutters, but she knew that her mother felt only resentment toward her. She felt it in her mother’s stinging slaps that left her face red for days, she felt it in the mostly empty bowl of rice she was always served last, but most of all she felt it from her mother’s eyes, always bitter and cold. Every time her mother looked at her, the girl felt as if she were being pelted with hard, black stones.
Anyone who met the family could tell that this girl, of all the children in that large family, bore the brunt of her mother’s anger and annoyance. The neighboring families assumed it was because the Unwanted Girl was the eldest and her mother held her responsible for the younger children’s missteps. But it was not just her mother’s lack of affection that made life hard for her. The truth was, there was something about the girl that was odd.
And she knew this as well. When her mother had sent her out in the freezing winter to find fresh bamboo shoots, the girl, after shedding tears in the snow, had inexplicably been able to find some growing. When the Unwanted Girl had fallen into a stampede of oxen, she was able to dodge the hundreds of crashing hooves and survive unscathed. And when a vicious wild beast threatened their livestock, the Unwanted Girl had rushed out, barehanded, and ordered the beast away. It had obeyed.
None of these things endeared her to anyone. Most people regarded her with suspicion and kept away. It seemed the Unwanted Girl could never do anything right, could never be accepted, and could never belong.
Most children would let such a plight destroy them; but the Unwanted Girl did not. She suffered greatly, of course, but she also had a spirit of iron, one that did not break easily.
And it was that spirit Lord Rabbit saw. When a sickness came over the Unwanted Girl’s village, her family prayed and begged the Moon Lady to send them the healer Lord Rabbit. Their prayers were answered, for soon a silver rabbit dressed in the clothing of a fine lord came riding in on a yellow tiger. Lord Rabbit was quickly able to cure all in the girl’s family, herself included, except for her youngest brother. When Lord Rabbit saw him, he shook his head.
“This medicine will not be strong enough,” Lord Rabbit said. “He is too young and needs a different medicine, one that I do not have.”
“Can you get it?” the mother asked tearfully, her hands stroking the boy’s soft, plump burning cheeks.
Lord Rabbit hesitated. “The medicine requires many ingredients,” he said. “Even with the tiger, I will have to travel to many places to get everything, and it may be too late.”
“Please try,” the mother begged.
“And even then, the medicine still may not work,” Lord Rabbit warned. “His chi is already very weak. This type of sickness is difficult on such a small child.”
“I’ll give anything you wish! You must save him!”
Lord Rabbit bowed. “I will try,” he said.
The Unwanted Girl followed him as he left, as if pulled by a thread. As he mounted the Yellow Tiger, she couldn’t help calling out to him.
“Please!” she said. “Let me come! I can help! I know I can.”
Lord Rabbit looked into her eyes and saw her powerful spirit, her strength and tenacity, but he also saw how she swallowed her tears alone at night, whispering to the moon her longing for a person to care for her or a place to belong. He did not think she could help him, but could he help her?
Slowly, he nodded, and the Unwanted Girl leapt onto the tiger’s back behind him. They traveled great distances, stopping often. And, on one of their stops, the Unwanted Girl met the White Fox.
No doubt it was because the girl was traveling with Lord Rabbit that the White Fox became interested. Lord Rabbit had never traveled with a mortal before, and it piqued her interest. Perhaps at first, the White Fox just thought to cause some annoyance for her old foe by manipulating the girl, but she soon discovered that the Unwanted Girl could be very useful to her. With Lord Rabbit unaware, the White Fox was able to slowly gain mastery over her.
It was at their last destination that the White Fox finally revealed her control. The Unwanted Girl and Lord Rabbit had traveled to the Queen Mother’s Garden of Splendors for the last herbs, and in the radiant palace of jade, Lord Rabbit pleaded to the Queen Mother herself for permission to pick the herbs.
“You do know that I am very careful whom I allow into my garden,” the Queen Mother said, looking down at them as her attendants gently waved their feather-tipped fans above her. “Visitors tend to make a mess of the place. The last time I let someone in, they left flower blossoms everywhere! And before that, there was the monkey who—”