Finally, I went outside to get a drink from the well in the courtyard. I knelt beside its low stone wall and pushed aside the wooden lid. I tossed in my tin cup, heard it splash in the dark depths, and pulled on the rope, hand over hand as my mother had taught me. I took care not to lean too far over the stone rim, as she’d always cautioned, and replaced the lid. I didn’t want to end up as the ghost of a drowned girl, dank hair hanging over my face, luring victims to share my fate.

It won’t be long now, a voice behind me said. People are coming. I can hear them up the road. The voice was high pitched, the words pronounced precisely.

I swung around. An animal with tawny red fur yawned, showing a pink tongue and sharp white teeth. It looked like one of the stray dogs that sometimes came into Dragon Springs Road, but it was sleek, not mangy, with a plume of a tail. A fox. Its eyes shone amber yellow, dark centers with flecks of green in their depths. Its snout was long and elegant, its paws neat and stockinged in black. Then it vanished.

Startled, I dropped my cup and toppled over, my back against the well. Had I fallen asleep and dreamed the creature?

Then I heard voices. Unfamiliar voices. Voices shouting commands, voices shouting in reply.

I hurried through the bamboo grove to the front courtyard and climbed up the pile of furniture. Next door, the gates stood wide open. There was excited laughter and chatter from the street, and then a woman’s voice called out in stern tones.

“Silence! Show respect for the spirits in our new home!”

The chatter ceased immediately.

“All the doors and windows are open, Old Mistress.” A sturdy man in plain blue servant’s garb came out from the main courtyard to face the entrance gate. “Any spirits who wanted to leave should be gone now.”

“Does everyone have something to carry?” A male voice, deep and jovial. “We mustn’t enter our new home empty-handed.”

A man stepped over the threshold of the entrance gate. An exuberant smile lit his round face. His long queue gleamed with the same dark shine as his satin skullcap, and he carried a bundle of books under his arm.

The old woman by his side wore her white hair scraped severely into a bun, her forehead covered by a wide band of black silk. She carried a pair of scrolls and tottered in on tiny feet. Then two younger women stepped into the entrance courtyard. One had a rounded, smiling face and a rounded belly; she held a basket of fruit against her hip. The other was tall and pale, with pursed lips that gave her a dour expression; a panel of embroidered fabric hung over one thin arm.