To live in the same house as Shao. Their budding yet undefined relationship. The scrutiny of his wealthy family and their servants. Lian shrank at the thought. And for how long could she impose on them?

“My mother’s probably found somewhere to live by now,” she said.

Then she noticed Sparrow wasn’t paying attention. The servant girl’s head was cocked to one side, as though listening. A moment later, Lian heard it, too, the sound of hooves. But not the heavy clopping of horses or donkeys. Something lighter and quicker was cantering toward them. Not just one, a herd.

When she saw them, Lian gasped. Sparrow put a warning hand on hers. “Hush,” she said. “Qilin unicorns.”

They were dainty creatures, their deerlike bodies lithe and sleek, manes fluttering bright as flames along their necks. The qilin slowed to a trot, their long, tufted tails curved proudly over their backs. Their leader, a black qilin, paused and the herd stopped. The black qilin lifted one hoof, the single antler at the center of its forehead burnished by moonlight. It tipped its head toward the table. Sparrow stood and bowed in response. The leader delicately sniffed the night air, then lashed its tail as if making a decision. Then the black qilin leapt into the forest and the herd followed, sprinting through the undergrowth. A moment later, the road was empty.

But in the wake of their passage, trembling limbs of dogwood and rhododendron put out their first blooms, forsythia shrubs sprouted gold blossoms, and white mist poppies pushed tendrils of green above the ground.

Lian could see all this because the yard was illuminated by a soft glow. And this time, Lian knew she was awake. And she knew also that she had been awake all those other times when she had seen Sparrow Chen shining in the dark. Sparrow, who was not a servant. Sparrow, whose exquisitely beautiful features smiled at her.

Sparrow, who was the Willow Star. How could she not have seen?

THEY TALKED ALL night.

“You’re an immortal,” Lian said. “Surely you have powers? Or are you not allowed to use them?”

“I have no powers, Lian, only immortality,” the Star said. “I’m just a celestial maidservant. No one prays to me, I’ve no obligations and no rules to obey except for my agreement with the Queen Mother of Heaven. My only advantage is that my sister stars guide me as we travel.”

Lian couldn’t be privy to all the secrets of the gods. But the Star told Lian about her three sister stars, also maids-in-waiting to the Queen Mother of Heaven. About the exodus taking place, the immortals and guardian spirits leaving China. About the promise she’d extracted from the Queen Mother of Heaven, that in each reincarnation the Prince would lead a privileged life, male or female, always born into wealth because the Willow Star couldn’t bear to think of him suffering.