“Cranes, or at least they look like cranes,” the Star said. “They were human once, sages who became immortal through attaining enlightenment. Now they take the form of birds for their journey.”

Unexpectedly, the Star put her arm through his as they strolled along the river, something she had never done before. Tall water reeds stirred in the evening breeze and dry grasses brushed against his ankles, leaving tiny burrs on his trousers. Beside them, waves lapped over stones polished smooth by flowing water. It was as though war had never touched his life. He savored the moment, lingered in its tranquility.

“Our paths must now diverge, my friend,” the Star said.

Somehow he had been expecting this.

“Don’t worry about the Library of Legends,” she said. “On your way to Chengtu you need to make a detour to the town of Zunyi. Once you store the Legends in the caves outside Zunyi your duty of care will be over.”

“But you’re leaving?” he said. “When?” A stab of sorrow. One that would bury itself in his heart, he knew, as deeply as the loss of his wife and child, scars now decades old.

“I’m leaving tomorrow. I’m helping Shao and Lian escape,” she said. “You don’t know anything about it. But be aware that Tan Wendian is a very angry young woman who’s been playing with lives. She’s one reason why we must leave.”

“I will pretend complete ignorance,” Professor Kang said. “Do you need a map?”

The Star laughed, as he thought she might. He knew, because she had told him that after thousands of years of looking down on China, she could picture every city, hill, and river, swaths of forest and expanses of desert. Even new highways and railway tracks were easy to navigate because they connected cities to other cities. If she ever felt lost at night, she only had to look up and her sister stars gave her guidance. It was one of the precious fragments of insight he’d managed to glean over the years.

There were so many unfinished conversations, let alone the questions he’d never asked. Now he cursed his reticence.

“Something I’d like to bring up,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ve been thinking about what you said, that the Prince never seems truly happy. I think it’s because he lacks purpose.”

The Star looked at him, brows furrowed.