PRAISE FOR
FOREST OF A THOUSAND LANTERNS
A Junior Library Guild Selection
“A stunning reimagining of the Evil Queen. Filled with treacherous courtesans, dark magic, terrible choices, and bloody hearts, Julie Dao’s exquisite take on this classic villain rises far above the average retelling.”
—Stephanie Garber, New York Times bestselling author of Caraval
“A richly developed fantasy world coupled with an ambitious antiheroine of complex agency, this story shines and surprises at every turn. Julie C. Dao is a talent to watch.”
—Marie Lu, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Legend
“Julie C. Dao’s Forest of a Thousand Lanterns is delicious, addicting, and breathtaking, a book you fall into from the first page to the last. Her rich world is thick with wonder, intrigue, and delightful darkness.”
—Dhonielle Clayton, New York Times bestselling author of The Belles and coauthor of the Tiny Pretty Things series
“A masterful reimagining of the early life of Snow White’s Evil Queen. Subverting the all-too-white world of fairy tales, this novel will trap readers in a lush, dangerously dark, and often beautiful world from which they will want no escape. Xifeng is . . . richly drawn, complicated, and, at times, vulnerable; her relentless pursuit of power a welcome contrast to princesses of the past who seldom had the confidence or strength to determine their own destinies.”
—Booklist, starred review
“Lushly written . . . The demons [Xifeng] faces are both literal and metaphorical, external and internal, and her tug-of-war with the forces driving her down a dark path makes for tantalizing reading. A fascinating examination of destiny, responsibility, and how choices shape a person.”
—Publishers Weekly, starred review
“Rich in detail and full of gore and blood, this dark novel will satisfy Game of Thrones fans.”
—School Library Journal
“Readers will appreciate the sweeping fantasy saga lifted from East Asian dynasties and endearing characters that are beautifully rendered.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Readers will be drawn into the lush, fully realized world of Feng Lu and be intrigued by the sinister forces that awaken within and around Xifeng.”
—The Bulletin of the Center for Children’s Books
“Dark, lush, and intense, Forest of a Thousand Lanterns draws you into a world filled with mystery and intrigue. . . . A stunning debut!”
—Cindy Pon, author of Want and Serpentine
“An enchanting debut with a powerful and ambitious lead.”
—Zoraida Córdova, award-winning author of Labyrinth Lost
“Magnetic, seductive, and alluring, Dao’s Forest of a Thousand Lanterns is a lush, captivating read.”
—S. Jae-Jones, New York Times bestselling author of Wintersong
“Equal parts lush and devastating, this is a tale that will grab you by the throat.”
—Roshani Chokshi, New York Times bestselling author of The Star-Touched Queen
“Forest of a Thousand Lanterns is dark and seductive; beware, this tale will draw you deeper into the forest than you want to go. Disturbingly good.”
—Stacey Lee, award-winning author of Outrun the Moon
“Beautiful, lush, and stunningly intricate, Forest of a Thousand Lanterns is this year’s must-read fantasy!”
—Sandhya Menon, New York Times bestselling author of When Dimple Met Rishi
“Forest of a Thousand Lanterns is a stunning debut, a sort of inside-out fairy tale where beauty is a weapon, ambition is armor, and the empire is the battlefield. Xifeng doesn’t ask for what she wants—she takes it. This book is dangerous; you should read it.”
—Jodi Meadows, New York Times bestselling coauthor of My Lady Jane
ALSO BY JULIE C. DAO
Forest of a Thousand Lanterns
Philomel Books
an imprint of Penguin Random House LLC
375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014
Copyright © 2018 by Julie C. Dao.
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
Philomel Books is a registered trademark of Penguin Random House LLC.
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
Printed in the United States of America.
Ebook ISBN 9781524738334
Edited by Jill Santopolo and Brian Geffen.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Version_1
To Lam and Tuan, legendary warriors,
and to Tamar Rydzinski,
for whose company on this quest
I am forever grateful
CONTENTS
Praise for Forest of a Thousand Lanterns
Also by Julie C. Dao
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Kingdom of The Blazing Phoenix Cast of Characters
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
KINGDOM OF THE BLAZING PHOENIX
CAST OF CHARACTERS
THE MONASTERY
Amah, Jade’s nursemaid (ah-MAH)
Abbess Lin, leader of the monastery
Auntie Ang, a monk
Auntie Tan, a monk
Empress Lihua, former Empress of Feng Lu and Jade’s mother
(lee-HWA)
JOURNEY TO THE PALACE
Wren, granddaughter of Amah and employee of the Imperial kitchens
Tengaru, guardians of the Great Forest (teng-GAR-roo)
Tung, teahouse owner
Ning, Tung’s employee and former acquaintance of the Empress
(neeng)
THE PALACE
ROYALS
Empress Xifeng, Empress of Feng Lu and Jade’s stepmother
(SHE-fung)
Emperor Jun, Emperor of Feng Lu and Jade’s father (jhoon)
COURT LADIES AND FAMILY
Lady Tran, a noblewoman and former friend of Empress Lihua
Hana, lady-in-waiting to the Empress and sister-in-law of Lady Tran
(hah-nah)
Minh, son of Hana and nephew of Lady Tran (min)
EUNUCHS
Kang, Xifeng’s faithful eunuch companion (kong)
Pei, a eunuch faithful to Emperor Jun (pay)
OTHER CHARACTERS
Shiro, former Ambassador of Kamatsu and cousin of Hana
(shee-ro)
Koichi, Shiro’s son (ko-eee-chee)
Lord Tanaka, a nobleman of Kamatsu (tah-nah-kah)
Gao, current Imperial Physician
Bohai, former Imperial Physician (BO-hi)
THE QUEST
Ming, a former soldier
Fu, the ghost who haunts Ming
The Crimson Queen, leader of the Crimson Army
Sparrow, a lieutenant of the Crimson Army
THE DRAGON LORDS’ WORLD
Feng Lu, the continent (fung loo)
The Dragon King, Lord of the Forest
Dominion: Kingdom of the Great Forest
Element: Wood
Lord of the Sea
(kah-maht-soo)
Element: Water
Lord of the Desert
Dominion: Kingdom of the Shifting Sands / Surjalana
(SOOR-jah-LAH-nah)
Element: Fire
Lord of the Four Winds
Dominion: Kingdom of the Four Winds / Dagovad
(DAH-go-VAHD)
Element: Metal
Lord of the Grasslands
Dominion: Kingdom of the Sacred Grasslands
Element: Earth
The messenger came at dawn, riding up to the gates with a scroll in his hand.
Jade tensed as his looming black-robed figure emerged from the wintry forest mists, thinking at once of the bandits who had tried to attack the monastery three nights ago. They had been hungry and desperate enough to attempt to rob the monks of what little they had, and even after Abbess Lin had chased them away, the women lived in fear that they would return. Jade tightened her grip on her bucket of animal feed, wondering if it would be heavy enough to disarm him so she could sound the alarm.
But her fear turned into curiosity as the man approached. Not only was he by himself, but he rode an elegant black horse and his robes were trimmed with gold.
Auntie Ang hurried past with a lantern in her hand, breath emerging in the frigid air, her glance at Jade both reassuring and apprehensive as she approached him. “May I help you, sir?”
“I have two letters to deliver. One is for the abbess,” he told her in a deep, strident voice, passing the scroll through the gate. “She will know for whom the other is meant.”
The middle-aged monk accepted the missive, her eyes widening at something she saw upon it. “My goodness. This is from . . .”
Jade craned her neck. In the dim lantern light, she could see only a large black circle on the thick roll of paper. There could be nothing shocking in a seal. Abbess Lin had an entire shelf of rusty-red wax sticks in her quarters for correspondence.
But the messenger seemed to understand Auntie Ang’s awe. “See that it is delivered immediately.” As the monk bowed and left, the man caught sight of Jade standing in the shadows and went still. Even his horse held its breath; the little columns of smoke puffing from its nostrils disappeared. Something gold gleamed on his chest, an emblem that looked strangely familiar. It was clear he served someone of great importance.
Jade tried to remember her manners, but couldn’t find her voice and bowed instead. In one fluid motion, the messenger swung off his horse and returned the bow, much more deeply than hers. He wore a black hood that hid all but his eyes. “Princess,” he murmured, before climbing back on his horse and disappearing once more into the trees.
Princess.
Now, there was a word she knew well.
There was often a princess in the children’s tales Amah still insisted on telling her, even though she was almost eighteen. It was a word meant for old stories and faded texts, a word that belonged to the outside world. It lived in the shaded leaves and branches of the Great Forest. It did not fit into her life, into the rough robes she wore or the sound of the morning’s first gong, waking the monks for prayer and meditation.
Jade pressed her face against the gate, watching the treetops shiver in the icy wind. Everything outside the monastery, from prowling bandits to cold-eyed messengers, seemed like a realm apart she was content to know only through Amah’s fables. She let out a slow sigh, wrapping her fingers around the bars that protected her.
Still, the coming of the messenger and the word he had uttered unnerved her.
Princess.
It was as though the Great Forest had reached through the gates with branches like eager hands . . . as though that other world had, at last, found her.
Jade shut the door on the winter morning, puffing warmth into her cupped hands, and walked down a narrow corridor to the sleeping quarters. None of the rooms had doors. The floors and walls were of heavy stone, each with a small window set high above one or two straw pallets. Abbess Lin discouraged all ornamentation except flowers, with which Jade readily decorated her chamber in warmer months. When the frost came, however, she had to improvise.
Amah looked up when she entered, and clucked disapprovingly at the snow-kissed branches in her hands. “We have enough weeds already, little mouse.”
“They were so lovely, I couldn’t help it.” Jade placed them in a jar, then bent to kiss the old woman’s wrinkled cheek. “And don’t you think I’m too old for that silly nickname?”
“Don’t slouch. No woman in your family ever walked with anything but a straight back. And you’ll be my little mouse whether you’re seventeen or seventy.”
The nursemaid looked at her so fondly, Jade couldn’t find it in her heart to argue. She straightened obediently, pulling her shoulders back and her chin up. “You’ll hurt your eyes sewing this early with so little light. Is it something for my birthday, perhaps?”
“Never you mind.” Amah hastily folded the blue-green brocade into a wooden chest in the corner. This chest had always been a source of wonder to Jade. It held bits and pieces of finery from a forgotten time—scraps of silk and embroidery and foreign lace—that Amah took care to hide from Abbess Lin, who forbade worldly riches of any kind. Whenever Jade asked about the items, her elderly nursemaid would only say they were treasures she was saving.
For me, Jade decided, watching Amah fuss over the lock. Though I haven’t the faintest idea what I might do with them.
Tufts of coarse white hair trembled on the old woman’s head as it jerked this way and that, scanning the room for untidiness. She resembled a chicken more than ever today, Jade thought affectionately. “Fifteen years we’ve lived here,” Amah confessed, “and I’m still skittish as a schoolboy when inspection day comes around.”
Jade giggled. “Auntie Tan will be merciful, I think. Though I fear,” she added, as the gong struck once more, “if we get in trouble, it will be for coming late to meditation.”
“I’m getting too old to kneel for an hour, morning and night,” Amah grumbled.
“We could ask Abbess Lin for a stool, but it will depend upon her mood.” Jade th
ought of the scroll that had arrived that morning. Auntie Ang had recognized the seal, that was certain, but it hadn’t been clear from her astonishment whether it might be good or bad news.
The abbess didn’t give anything away when they entered the meditation room. A small, birdlike woman in her forties, Abbess Lin had the gift of authority. When she inclined her head to signal Jade and Amah to take their places, they obeyed, forgetting all about the stool.
Jade sensed a ripple of awareness through the ten other women as she knelt beside Amah. Even after all these years and the friendships she had formed, Jade still stood out among them: the youngest, and the only one, aside from Amah, whose head had not been shaved. Still not one of them, she thought, tucking her braid beneath her tunic. Still not home at home.
Years ago, she had begged Abbess Lin to let her become a full monk and finally belong to the women she considered family. The abbess had refused, not unkindly. “You are with us, but you will never be one of us. Be patient, my child. You are meant for another life.”
Now, Jade closed her eyes and fell into the soothing rhythm of her own breath, as she had done every morning for as long as she could remember. Inhale, exhale. The silence and stillness were absolute, except for Amah’s occasional fidgeting beside her. She envisioned the room around them, the one they used in winter when it was too cold to sit outdoors: pale stone walls, mats of woven straw for their knees, daylight streaming in through narrow windows.
Once, many years ago, she had asked Auntie Ang what she meditated about.
“You don’t meditate about something,” the monk had replied, amused. “You simply meditate. You let go and clear your mind of thought. You just be.”
But no matter how hard Jade tried, images insisted on dancing behind her lids. Perhaps it was part of the reason why Abbess Lin wouldn’t accept her as a monk: Jade lacked the patience, selflessness, and detachment necessary. For her, meditating was like trying to catch raindrops. She could put out hundreds of bowls to collect the water, but there would always be some that escaped and soaked into the soil of her mind. Today, it was the messenger and his quiet, solemn Princess that kept intruding on her thoughts.