“I gave that to your mother. I told her it would keep her safe, but I was wrong. No amulet could have protected her from the danger which threatened her,” he said in a low voice. “The rest you’ve heard in the tales. I shot the sunbirds; I fulfilled the quest, believing myself a hero when I was the Celestial Emperor’s dupe.”

His face flushed with anger. Yet if he had not been tricked, he would never have met my mother. It was hard for me to mourn that which had given me life.

“I do not regret it,” he said firmly.

“Because of Mother?”

“Because of you both. When the emperor bestowed the elixir upon me, I thought it a magnanimous gift, ignorant of the true reason behind it. Even if I had, it would have changed nothing.”

“Except it was Mother who drank the elixir.” Had the emperor’s anger at this turn of events been a pretense to satisfy the court? Perhaps it was also to instill fear in those who thought of disobeying him. It struck me then, my father had been better protected as a mortal from the Celestial Empress’s wrath, for immortals could not strike them without just cause.

“I should not have come,” he said. “I stayed away for a while because to see your mother gave me as much pain as it did joy.”

Tendrils of unease unfurled within me. “Why did you come today?”

“I received a note. I was curious, even as I sensed something amiss. Your mother seemed different today. Restless, like she was searching for something. Caught off guard, I was careless. She saw me before I hid.”

Who had sent the note? Who had plotted for my mother to forget her duty? Wugang’s gloating face swam across my mind, his readiness in accusing my mother of treachery at the banquet. Moreover, he knew our home, where to plant the letter—he could easily have instructed one of his servants. And he was familiar with this realm, having been mortal himself. Was this an elaborate scheme to give the emperor an excuse to fault us? My throat went dry at the thought.

“Daughter, it was selfish of me, but I wanted to speak to you just once. I didn’t know if I would get another chance. Don’t tell your mother. I do not wish to cause her more grief, to have her mourn me again.”

A fit of coughing came over him, his body heaving as he pressed a piece of cloth to his mouth. When he dropped it down, it was soaked with a dark liquid. Blood. My insides wrenched tight.