Page 68 of The Scarlet Alchemist

“I am to accompany you everywhere outside the inner palace,” the guard said. “You should be grateful you’re even granted that much freedom.”

Then the door swung open and a rush of light spilled out. I raised a hand to shield my eyes as I stepped into the training grounds.

The courtyard had sturdy stone walls that rose above the trees, cutting off the rest of the city so that everything beyond them was pure, uninterrupted sky. Rows of tiny houses lined the perimeter, framing a pond so clear that the entire sky was reflected back in it, like the ground was a portal to Heaven. Instead of the red dirt of the other courtyards, the ground here was silvery gray, like ashes.

About a dozen people mulled through the grounds, sitting on the dirt and eating fruit, reading scrolls, or napping in the shade. I heard muffled yelling inside one of the houses, and a cloud of purple smoke spun through one of the windows, followed by flashes of light and garbled screams.Yes, these people are definitely alchemists, I thought.

“I see you’ve made it, Scarlet.”

I turned toward the Moon Alchemist as she approached from the center path. All the trees seemed to bend and bow in her direction, the sun behind her outlining her silhouette in white light. The wind nudged me a step closer and I realized, as she drew to a stop, that I had to look up at her. I’d never met a woman taller than me before, and I didn’t understand how her height commanded respect and majesty while mine only made me feel like an overgrown flower that needed trimming. She drew to a stop a short distance away, gaze flickering to the guard and expression souring.

“I’m supervising her in here,” she said. “You wait outside the door.”

The guard straightened. “My orders are to—”

“Our alchemy practices are confidential. I don’t make exceptions, and I outrank you.”

She gestured for him to leave, and after a tense moment of silence, he pressed his lips together and bowed before heading toward the door.

“What an annoyance,” the Moon Alchemist said. She turned back to me, her expression only slightly softer. “I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced. I am the Moon Alchemist, head of the royal alchemists, and I will oversee your training.”

As if I don’t know who you are, I thought, bowing. She was impossible to look away from—like the moon itself, she seemed like the brightest point in a dark sky, majestic and eternal.

“I heard that you earned your name by pulling the moon down from the sky,” I said before I could stop myself. “Can you really do that?”

The corner of her lips curled up in a smile. “I’m a healer known for using moonstone,” she said. “That is where it comes from.”

She hadn’t answered my question, but I decided not to ask again. She didn’t seem like the kind of person who would tolerate pestering.

“What was your real name again?” she asked, waving for me to follow her deeper into the compound.

“Fan Zilan,” I said, bowing again as I walked. I felt like I shouldn’t be allowed to look someone like her in the eye. Forget the Empress—thiswas someone I wanted to throw myself to the ground for. Could she really be responsible for all the pearl monsters?

The Moon Alchemist stopped, a frown creasing her forehead. “FanZilan?” she said, as if it was my surname and not my flowery given name that surprised her. As far as I knew, Fan was a common, unremarkable name.

“Yes,” I said, feeling like a child scolded for giving the wrong answer.

She pursed her lips, gaze searing into me for a long moment, then turned and kept walking. “I heard you’re from the south, Scarlet,” she said, seamlessly switching dialects. She sounded like the people of southern Jiangnanxi, which bordered my home province, and while it wasn’t the same as Guangzhou dialect, I’d spoken to enough people on trade routes to get the gist.

“I am,” I said. “Are you—”

“Walk faster,” she said.

I doubled my pace, tripping over a hole in the ground that oddly resembled a burn mark. “Where are you...” I trailed off, not sure how to finish the question. I’d hated when people in Guangzhou asked me where I was from, as ifherecouldn’t be the right answer. But the Moon Alchemist seemed to transcend every map, maybe even time itself—she spoke both Southern and Northern dialects flawlessly, braided her hair like the nomads, had tan skin and harvest-moon eyes and a magnetic pull. I would have believed her if she claimed to be the daughter of the moon goddess herself.

“I grew up in southern Jiangnandong,” she said, not even looking at me as she spoke, like she’d heard the question a thousand times. “My father was a teacher there, and my mother was from Persia.”

My feet ground to a halt. Annoyance flickered in the Moon Alchemist’s eyes as she stopped and looked over her shoulder, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.

“You’re ahùnxie?” I said quietly.

She raised an eyebrow, waving for me to keep walking. “Was that not obvious?”

I could only shake my head. I had never met anotherhùnxiebefore, and now, somehow, the most powerful alchemist in China was like me? It felt wrong that there was a single word that could describe both of us, when she felt like the sharp light of every star in the sky while I was just an overgrown weed scorched in the sun. Maybe if she taught me, I could be like her one day—commanding respect, not ridicule. She waved again and I hurried to catch up with her, neck craned to look up at her instead of the path in front of me.

“I’m not the only one,” she said. “The River Alchemist isBaiyuèand Hàn Chinese. She helped invent the water clock, hence her name. And there are many of us who aren’t Hàn. There’s the Paper Alchemist, who’s Uyghur. And that explosion inside the house earlier was the Comet Alchemist. She’s from Tubo. You’ll meet all of them soon.”

Across the courtyard, a few alchemists waded through the pond, screaming with indignation when someone turned the water bright purple. Another swung from a tree branch onto an alchemist’s shoulders, falling over laughing as the peach tree rained fruit over them. Some cast blue clouds of smoke across the courtyard and vanished into its mist, which smelled like burnt sugar. There were alchemists from lands I’d never dreamed of seeing in my lifetime. The alchemy grounds no longer felt like another part of the palace but a gateway to an entirely different world.

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