Yanna, who did not seem much older than Pinmei, nodded with the shrewdness of an adult. Pinmei glanced back and forth between the King and Yanna, feeling like a mouse lost in the snow. But when the others rose in unison, she followed quickly, and the king led them to a door at the back of the room.

“Bring them through the Long Walkway; the emperor will take the other path,” the king said to the girl. He turned to Lady Meng and the children. “Yanna will see that you are comfortable and well taken care of. I will send word when it is safe for you to leave. Go quickly.”

“And Yanna,” the king called as they turned to leave, “make sure you warn them about the western side of the walkway.”

She nodded and pushed them through the doorway. They rushed through the halls of the palace, Lady Meng’s robes flowing behind her like silken water, to another door. Then, to Pinmei’s surprise, Yanna led them outside to a covered, meandering corridor. In warm weather, the richly decorated pathway was probably a delightful way to take a relaxed stroll through the garden. But now, with the biting wind and the endless landscape of white, the walkway’s bends and length were more of an annoyance, and the fleeing group kept slipping on its curves.

Pinmei’s thoughts twisted and turned like their running steps. The emperor was here? If the emperor was here… was Amah here too?

“What did the king mean when he said to warn us about the walkway?” Yishan said, huffing to keep up with Yanna’s fast pace. “Something about the western side?”

Yanna slowed and looked behind them, the covered pathway stretching beyond them like a dragon’s backbone.

“I think we’re far enough away now,” she said, stopping. “And you probably should know as soon as possible because it’s important.”

Lady Meng gave a grateful sigh, glad to rest, but Pinmei and Yishan looked at Yanna curiously.

“We are on the Long Walkway,” Yanna said, speaking as if they were very young children. “This walkway divides the palace garden in half—in kind of a twisty way, of course—but still, in two.”

“I think that’s pretty obvious,” Yishan said. Even though he was breathing heavily, his mocking tone was still clear. Pinmei nudged him.

“This is the eastern side,” Yanna said, ignoring Yishan and motioning toward the left. She waved to her right. “That is the western side.”

Pinmei looked back and forth at both sides of the walkway. There did not seem to be a big difference between the two sides.

“So?” Yishan said.

“While the emperor is here, you are never to go on the western side of the Long Walkway,” Yanna said, raising her voice for emphasis. “You must never, ever cross the walkway to the western side.”

“Why?” Yishan asked. “What happens if we do?”

“If you do, you’re dead!” Yanna snorted. “The emperor declared he’d kill anyone and their family if they were found on the western side while he’s here. So don’t cross the walkway. Do you understand?”

Pinmei looked again at the western side of the walkway. It was blanketed with thick snow, iced over, and glittering like a diamond, but she still did not see anything unusual about it.

“No, I don’t understand,” Lady Meng said, her lovely face frowning in confusion. “The western side, the eastern side? Why is it important?”

“It’s important to the emperor,” Yanna said, turning to lead them farther. “And, while he’s here, that’s all that matters.”

CHAPTER 24

Ignoring Yishan’s further questions, Yanna hurried them onward, though not as quickly as before. However, Pinmei’s thoughts continued to race. Eastern side, western side? Why? Did it have anything to do with Amah? If Amah was here, could they find her? Pinmei gazed upward, trying to calm herself.

It was then that she noticed the beams and ceiling of the corridor were painted with hundreds of scenes from different stories. The Old Man of the Moon with his bag of red threads, the Spirit of the Mountain holding up the moon as only he could… Pinmei recognized them all. Yanna noticed her gaze.

“The Long Walkway is supposed to show a picture from every important legend,” she said. “They say a new painting appears right before a story of greatness is about to be told.”

“I wonder what kind of magic can do that,” Lady Meng said, looking up in appreciation.

“I don’t know if I believe it,” the servant girl said, even while urging them forward, “but these were all created over a hundred years ago by the master painter Chen, who was supposed to have a magic paintbrush or inkstone or something like that. He even painted a picture of a dragon that came to life.”

“Is that in one of the paintings?” Yishan said, teasing.

“Yes,” Pinmei said softly. She had seen the image of a red dragon flying off a paper as they had rushed pass.

“Anyway,” Yanna said, not hearing Pinmei’s whisper, “it’s not like anyone would be able to prove it either way. You’d have to know thousands and thousands of stories to know all the pictures. I walk here all the time and I don’t know any of the ones we just passed.”

“None?” Pinmei said, her shock making her voice louder than she’d intended.

Yishan gave a sly grin. “I bet Pinmei knows all of them,” he said.

Yanna turned to look at Pinmei, who would have flushed if her cheeks had not already been red from the cold. “Do you?” Yanna asked.

Pinmei gave a tiny shrug and nodded.

Yanna stopped walking. “We can take another rest,” she said, and then waved up toward one of the ceiling beams. She looked at Pinmei. “Do you know that one?”

It had begun to snow again, and despite the walkway’s canopy, the snowflakes flew in like fine silver threads. But Pinmei could still easily see the painting. It was a picture of a young girl and her parents standing before a king. In the girl’s arms, there was a large bowl with a smiling fish in it.

“It’s the Story of How a Girl Brought Joy to the Heart of a King,” Pinmei said.

“Well, now you have to tell it,” Yanna said, and a crooked smile formed on her face. It fit her face so perfectly that Pinmei realized Yanna’s serious manner was a new occurrence. “Can you?”