“Rabbit! Master Lu!” Mulan shouted as she ran to them, one arm waving, hair flying and feet pounding. Lu Ting-Pin looked at her with slight alarm, and the Rabbit lifted his head with worry. Mulan grinned and flung her arm in front of them, her fist clutching the slender sprouts. She panted, “I have the Dragon Beard Grass!”
SHE WONDERED if this was what it would feel like to be dead. They had plunged into the deepest part of the sea, where all was blackness. She heard nothing. She saw nothing. It was simply a vast emptiness.
But then, in the midst of the blankness, there was a faint gleam. She knew the anglerfish was in front of her. The bulbous lure that sprouted and arched from its head was glowing with an eerie incandescence, yet it still hid the fish’s monstrous, gaping mouth. Daji was signaling her.
Xianniang flashed back her own light, the more hushed illumination of the lantern fish she had transformed into. Yes, I am following.
They kept swimming. Daji had been annoyed that the fog she had created had not slowed the boat longer. “That Lu Ting-Pin!” Daji had cursed. “He has always been a nuisance!” But then she had stopped, and a smile began to curve her mouth. “He’s not just a nuisance to me,” she had said thoughtfully. “Perhaps we should let an old friend of his know that Lu Ting-Pin is going to be in the area.”
Which was why they were now fish swimming into the inmost depths of the ocean. Deeper and darker, like two tiny stars falling in a midnight sky. Then, finally, one light stopped moving.
Xianniang flitted forward toward the anglerfish, still slightly taken aback by its grotesque appearance as their dim light brought the fish Daji had changed to into view. The anglerfish’s small eyes squinted in its huge head—a head split by a cavernous mouth lined with translucent, needlelike teeth. It was not like Daji to transform into something so…so ugly.
However, Daji had her reasons. The anglerfish had stopped at what Xianniang had thought was finally the ocean floor. But it was not. It was, in fact, what Daji had been looking for.
The luminous lure, that fleshy orb that dangled from the anglerfish’s head like a fishing rod, now began to gleam with blue-green radiance. It grew stronger and brighter—far more powerful than any glow from a lantern fish—a beacon in the endless darkness. Wake up, the beam seemed to say. Wake up.
And with that light, there was a sudden tremble in the layers of black, and both fish felt themselves pushed backward from the force of moving water. Then, like a pair of moons suddenly emerging before them, two enormous eyes opened.
MULAN FELT as buoyant as their boat, skimming through the waves as easily as if sliding on ice. She leaned against the mast, letting the wind whip her hair and face. The light glinted off the sea—its wide expanse of deep blue stretching endlessly against the greener blue of the sky. Mulan touched the pouch tied to her waist that Lu Ting-Pin had given her. It was made of leaves that had been specially treated with yellow oil, and “completely waterproof,” according to Lu Ting-Pin, so that the precious Dragon Beard Grass would be protected. She checked the knot. Yes, that was secure, too.
Both Lu Ting-Pin and the Rabbit had been delighted when she had presented the grass. Lu Ting-Pin had burst out with his booming laugh of joy, and the Rabbit had smiled with such relief and gratitude that Mulan felt herself glow with pride. “A good omen to depart with,” Lu Ting-Pin had said as they climbed onto the boat.
However, the best omen appeared after they had sailed away. They had been waving goodbye to Li Jing and her family when the whole of the island began to come into view. But this time, instead of looking like a jagged brown boulder in the sea, the island had softened. A gentle yellow-green was velveting the sharp peaks and spreading over the rocks to the sea. Green Island was green again. The heart of the island is at peace, Mulan thought with a smile, her own heart feeling as open as the boundless sea before her.
“Tomorrow!” Lu Ting-Pin called out.
“Tomorrow?” Mulan asked.
“Tomorrow we will be at Kunlun Mountain,” Lu Ting-Pin said. “And the Queen Mother of the West’s palace and garden.”
“And not a day too soon,” the Rabbit said, creeping out from the cabin to join them. Mulan was startled when she saw him. She hadn’t noticed how weak he had gotten. His once lush and shimmering silver hair was now dull grey, the color of ash. He carried himself slowly and carefully, as if every limb was in pain. “Tomorrow night will be the new moon.”
All the exuberance Mulan had been feeling drained away. That meant tomorrow was their last day. After that, the poison would reach Xiu’s vitals. If they did not get the second plant by tomorrow night, it would be too late for her. And too late for the Rabbit.
Suddenly, the yearning to see Ma, Ba, and Xiu swelled up inside her. How Mulan wished she could just see all of them again! Even one of Ma’s scoldings would be welcome now. She felt tears begin to burn in her eyes and turned toward the front of the boat, pretending to gaze at the water to hide them.
But even as she blinked away her tears, she felt as if a heavy shadow had come over them—the horizon darkening with her mood. Wait, had a dark shadow really fallen on them? Mulan blinked again and gazed up, fearful of another false fog. No, the sun still shone above them in the azure sky, streaked by white clouds. Mulan returned her gaze to the front of the boat, frowning. The boat continued to glide effortlessly through the water, but the ocean waves below their boat were no longer deep blue…they were now black. The water looked as if it had turned into ink.
“Rabbit! Lu Ting-Pin!” Mulan called. “Come look at this!”
Lu Ting-Pin trotted over blithely enough, but when he saw the inky sea he froze as if struck.
“Mulan,” he said, clipped and serious. “Pick up Tuzi.”
She rushed over to the Rabbit, who had been shuffling toward them, and quickly put him in her wrap carrier, shifting him to her front so he could see easily. A cold dread was creeping over her. She had never heard Lu Ting-Pin speak like that before—his voice harsh with alarm, without the softening of confidence or jest.
Lu Ting-Pin went to the oar and lifted it straight up so that it hung above him like the high branch of a tree. With Mulan staggering, the boat reeled and came to a full stop.
“What is it?” Mulan said, returning to the bow of the boat. Above the usual ocean rumble, they could hear a strange, ominous gurgling. Mulan leaned over to see below, and her eyes widened. The darkened water was churning with a murky, dusk-colored froth. The bubbles began to swell, larger and larger, multiplying and spreading as the stilled boat began to sway at a dangerous clip.
“Oh, no,” the Rabbit said. His eyes, like Lu Ting-Pin’s, were glued to the foaming dark water and round with horror.
“What?” Mulan asked again, louder and more urgently.
Then, suddenly, the sea tore into two. The boat lurched, an enormous blanket of water spurting up to touch the sun and then crash down, throwing the boat and its passengers like a toy. Mulan sputtered and blinked, waving her arms wildly as she was tossed from side to side. She was finally able to grasp the mast and clung to it as the water and waves plummeted upon them. The sky filled with a grotesque sucking sound that nauseated Mulan, leaving her gasping and blinded. She wiped the water from her eyes so she could see…and then wished she hadn’t.