The cloud glided to the ground. Before I could descend, a soldier shoved me forward. I stumbled, tripping over my skirt, as another grabbed my arm, pulling at me. Anger flared in me to be treated like some beast, yet there was no malice in their rough handling, rather the detachment of performing an appointed task. I was glad when the young one remained on the cloud, unmoving, though his gaze kept flicking to the skies. Did he intend to take flight? How I prayed he would.

The soldiers hauled me along a familiar path, winding between the osmanthus trees—I could have walked blindfolded and found my way. Something rustled, the gentle clink of leaves from the laurel towering above. Its silvery bark seemed darker than before, cast in shadow—or perhaps because it was no longer bathed in the light of the moon.

Wugang stood there, a glint in his hawkish eyes. The gold scales of his armor rippled across his chest and down his arms, tapering to his wrists. His great axe was strapped to his back, its green tassel swinging from its bamboo handle. A powerful shield gleamed around him, my spirits sinking at the sight. Gone was my faint hope of catching him off guard. Even surrounded by his soldiers, his guard was still up.

He clasped his hands in seeming delight. “Chang’e, it warms me to see you again. I have long awaited this moment.”

I seethed at his false geniality. As his eyes narrowed with speculation, I dropped my challenging stare, trembling from the strain of not striking him, which I hoped he would take for fright.

“Release her.” His hand lifted in a careless wave.

The soldiers loosened their grip at once, their heads cocked toward him.

“I hope they haven’t made you too uncomfortable,” he said. “My soldiers can be overzealous when obeying my orders.”

How polite he sounded, like I was an honored guest. As though he were asking after my well-being, without the slightest intent of drawing my blood.

“Why did you bring me here?” My mother’s voice slid from my lips.

“Goddess of the Moon, I think you know.” His arm swept toward the laurel.

How many times had I climbed its pale branches and tugged at its seeds, admiring its exquisite beauty? All I saw now was that same ethereal light curving from the eyes of Wugang’s soldiers and monsters—resurrected, not to life, but to eternal slavery in death.

“Bind her to the tree,” Wugang commanded.

A gray chill sank through my flesh. I did not imagine he would tie me to the laurel. How would I escape? Panic surged, my struggles in earnest as I kicked at the guards.