My mind drifted to the indulgence of a dream, a life without the cares of discovery, capture, or danger. Without the unwelcome fate of the world crashing upon my shoulders—not an honor but a burden. There would be no shame in running away, for what did I owe the Immortal Realm?

I shoved aside these dangerous wants. A temptation to leave such weighty matters in the hands of greater people. Yet those were the fantasies of someone with no ties to the world. It was my loved ones whom Wugang hunted, whom he had hurt … and the Immortal Realm had become our home.

I did not want to do this, yet who else could? It was not arrogance or pride that drove me, but the irrefutable fact that I alone had the best chance of deceiving Wugang, of getting the feather close enough to the laurel, of destroying it. If I did nothing, I would lose everything, and all whom I loved would die.

Was this how my father had felt the day he set out to face the sunbirds? I had always believed greatness ran through his veins, that he was brave and wise, just as a hero should be. He had been lauded for his courage, but surely he must have been a little afraid—of death, of never returning to his family? Yet no one else could have wielded that bow, no other marksman could have brought down the sunbirds. If he had not gone, the Mortal Realm would have been destroyed, along with my mother and me.

Perhaps, at its core, heroism was a less pretty tale. Words like honor and valor, gilded over necessity and the harsh truth—that there was no choice.

“I must do this.” I searched my father’s face, hoping for a nod, any sign of assurance. Perhaps it was what most children sought, regardless of their age, this precious validation only their parents could bestow.

My father’s forehead creased as it did when he was deep in thought. How I relished learning his moods and gestures, gathering these threads and weaving them into a pattern that took shape until he was more than a name in a book, a silhouette in my dreams. And how I resented having this chance snatched from me after we were finally reunited.

“Daughter,” my father said, “I will do it. The Divine Mirror Scroll would work on me too.”

I shook my head. “It will take more than physical resemblance to convince Wugang. You know Mother as your wife, the mortal. I know her as the Moon Goddess. Wugang won’t be easily fooled, but I can convince him. Is that not what matters in times as these? Do you not assign soldiers to the tasks they are best equipped for?”

“Wugang will kill you,” my mother cried out.

“Not if I kill him first.” I lifted my head. “I am not going to die; I am going to end this.”