BUT MERE HOURS after taking the drugs, it was clear that Shao couldn’t leave his bed, let alone leave the house to get on the next sailing. He lay tangled in damp sheets, unconscious and tossing, drenched in cold sweat. Shao felt a large hand on his forehead, fingers on his wrist. Dr. Mao. A hearty male voice assuring him that all would be well. It would soon be over.

The room, when he opened his eyes, was dim, the shutters closed. He turned his head and saw Sparrow and Mrs. Deng sitting at the small round table in the corner, heads close together. Sparrow was writing something. Lian stood behind, looking over her shoulder. Sparrow brought a piece of paper to his bedside. She spoke, words his muddled senses couldn’t understand. Sparrow had his jade chop in her hand and pointed at the paper. A letter. He nodded, not sure what she wanted, but it was Sparrow, so he agreed and fell back into sleep.

Shao woke for brief spells, aware that Sparrow stood over him. Sometimes it was Sparrow and once, through half-closed eyelids, he saw Mrs. Deng holding a basin beside him as he vomited. But Sparrow was always there, changing his clothing, mopping his limbs with a warm, damp towel. Sparrow holding the spout of a teapot to his lips so that he could swallow some water. The room seemed brighter whenever Sparrow was there.

Light made him force open his eyes. Lian was not in the room, but Sparrow sat at the corner table with Mrs. Deng. They were the source of the light. And yet the young woman he knew as Sparrow didn’t look waifish or plain at all. Her lovely features caught at his heart, a face so strangely familiar, so beloved. Was it really Sparrow?

“I came down to reason with you,” he heard Mrs. Deng say. “Circumstances have changed. All creatures of legend are going home. The Queen Mother wants you home. Come back, dearest Sister. Give up on the Prince. He’s had dozens of chances, hundreds of years.”

Her voice was unlike anything he’d ever heard, sweet as the tinkle of jade bangles on his mother’s arm.

“Hundreds of years is but a blink of the eye to us,” Sparrow said. “I hardly feel as though it’s been that long.” This Sparrow was as exquisitely, delicately beautiful as Mrs. Deng but there was something about her, something more than beauty that moved him. He knew her from some other place. But where had it been?

“But when the Palace gates close this time, it will be for all eternity,” Mrs. Deng said.

“I just need a little more time,” Sparrow said.

“You’ve already spent too much time down here,” Mrs. Deng said. “You’ve become tainted by abhorrent human traits. Jealousy. Rage. What you did to that young woman, even though you know he could never love her.”