by Kathryn Reilly
Two ancient eyes watched the girl from deep beneath the watery depths. Being an immortal creature came with some benefits including absolutely perfect eyesight, but that didn’t alleviate boredom. It watched as she came to the river, sometimes bringing scraps for the fish and turtles, sometimes bringing flowers and releasing them to gently float away from the shore, sometimes planting native plants helping the insects and birds and mammals thrive, sometimes just bringing a book and dipping her feet as she turned the page. Those were his favorite days because her toes were painted in the colors of his scales and they sparkled when the sun shone just so through the slowly moving waters. Once, he moved close enough that the bare pad of her foot rubbed against the top of his smooth, rock-like nose and it tickled. But she was always alone. Most days she visited the river for hours.
It’s her, the magic sang, swirling through his blood, she’s the one.
There hasn’t been one in centuries, he thought back. And never a girl. A girl cannot be an emperor. I’ve waited hundreds and hundreds of years. She’s young and female and you have never chosen such a youngling.
The world is changing, the magic whispered back. It’s her. She’s the one.
So the longma trusted, and watched, and waited.
It rained for the next week, and the girl stayed away. He missed her and her rainbow toes and in passing wondered what evolutionary function brightly-colored toes served. The magic buzzed throughout the longma’s being, dragon scales vibrating, anxious to anoint the girl and spark the greatness she would wield. Anything that possesses magic knows better than to argue with it. So the longma waited until the girl appeared again.
On a Wednesday afternoon, the clouds cleared and the sun shone brightly, illuminating the rich variegated grasses near the water’s edge. Wildflowers bloomed profusely after the rains, stretching towards the sky, scenting the air. Finally she appeared, walking slowly, selecting a path among the flowers, carefully placing her steps among the plants to avoid harming them. Her hands brushed the grasses and she bent to smell the hip-height flowers, smiling. Reaching the river’s edge, she opened her backpack, removing bits of food, and tossed them into the river to feed the hungry fish. The longma shook out his body under the water and took a deep breath.
Then he ascended from the Yellow River’s depths as he had centuries ago to stand before the greatest of Chinese emperors including Fu Xi, Shun, Yao, and Yu. Fu Xi was so old history dubbed him as a mythical emperor, but he had been real and worked hard to shepherd his young civilization into being. The longma appeared only before the most worthy, the most virtuous, the most dedicated to their people. He appeared before humans that revered the land and could help their people create and innovate and honor their ancestry. It had been so long since the longma had appeared that he knew he’d faded into myth. But as humans took to building and inventing they’d forgotten about the magic in the world and relegated it to imagination instead of reality, sidestepping their history and roots. The water began to shimmer and roll outward as his head broke the surface, and he inhaled noisily. It had been a while after all since he’d breathed the oxygen of the world above; it was dirtier than he remembered.
The Yellow River parted for him and he stood, shimmering in the afternoon light, red and yellow dragon scales, absorbing and reflecting the sun making him glow. Hooves stood still atop the water as he shook off, droplets cascading and catching the sunlight, creating millions of tiny rainbows as they fell from his scaled sides. His dragon’s head arched strongly, and he stretched his jaw wide, showing sharp, pearl-white teeth. His eyes centered on the girl standing at the water’s edge in soaked sneakers. The river’s creatures swarmed beneath him, gathering and undulating the water so it lapped at his crystalline hooves. Northern bronze gudgeon and yellow river catfish whose fanlike fins sliced through the silt-rich waters swam in schools beneath him. For a moment, sadness descended upon the longma as he looked for fish no longer living in his river. Absent were the long silvery-gray paddlefish which once turned lazy circles, sliding their twenty-foot bodies seamlessly among the smaller fish. Two hundred million years they’d lived in this river, yet couldn’t survive its growing pollution. Being immortal meant burying nearly every friend he’d ever made, and after so many millennia, carrying their memories and their names with him was a boundless burden. He was tired of saying goodbye not just to his friends, but entire species he’d known since he’d come into being.
Shaking his mane again, he realized he’d been rudely staring at the girl, erroneously placing her species’ failings at her feet. So he smiled a toothy grin, took a step forward on the water and simply said, “Hello” (he’d learned it was best to begin simply when appearing to humans).
“Hello,” she returned, eyes roaming over his glowing, scaled form and taking a step backwards. “What are you?”
Snorting, he replied, “I’m a longma. My appearance is quite auspicious, you know. I come before the worthy, those meant to rule and bring prosperity upon the land. The Yellow River is the cradle of our culture and civilization; the ancient emperors and I worked together to make it so. Confucius used to come to the water and ask me to come up, but I never did help him. He did okay in the end though. He wasn’t as worthy as you, according to the magic. I’m here to make you Empress of all China.”
“Oh! Well, thank you, but no thank you then. I’m not sure I’d like to be an Empress of all China. I’m just focused on doing well in school right now so in two years I can attend university; I want to graduate in four years with dual degrees in microbiology and ecology. I’d like to be an environmental scientist and save the rivers, starting with this one. There are entire worlds we can’t see with the naked eye you know.”
“A surely noble pursuit. But think of what you could accomplish as Empress.”
“I don’t wish to be rude, but we don’t have emperors or empresses anymore. Puyi was the last emperor of China, and I learned in school he wasn’t a very good one. He ended up in prison as a war criminal for ten years before he was released. We read excerpts from his book. He seemed a little sorry for what he did. He died in 1967. China abolished its monarchy in the early 1900s, so, technically, I don’t think I can be an Empress,” the girl stated softly and smiled to ease the blow.
Roles reversed, the longma now stared at her silently considering this information, feeling quite lost; how could China not have a royal leader? He stamped his foot and looked inward, seeking the magic. She can’t be an Empress, he thought to the magic, the world doesn’t have them anymore.
She may not be an Empress in title, the magic returned, but she will lead the people and heal the world and be magnificent. She will be a scientist and solve problems and magic will show her the way. She will be the bridge of our worlds; she will believe and others will believe. Show her the map.
The longma walked slowly towards her, watching her closely. By this point, the emperors he’d appeared to had fallen to their knees, arms outstretched reverently, and he would lower his head and offer a blessing over them. But the girl stood, clearly in thought but not afraid.
“I’m Min,” she shared.
“I’m a longma.”
“But don’t you have a name?”
“No. I’ve always appeared and people called me Great Longma or The Auspicious One.”
“Would you like one?”
“A name? I’m not sure. Do you think I need one?”
“Only if you’d like one.” He considered that a moment and filed it away for contemplation later.
“I’d like to show you the map. It’s on my back. If you touch it, it will reveal where you need to go in order to discover your destiny, how to help the land and its people. I will take you to each place the map requests as long as it lays along the river and its tributaries. For those places beyond the river, I will gift you a scale that will guide you to them. It is different for all who see it. It’s not so much a quest but a guide. Each destination will offer you something: tools, wisdom, a skill, a lesson, a truth.”
Stepping forward, Min brushed along the smooth scales on his back. Her hands left trails of warmth over each one and he felt the map materialize, rearranging the atoms above his flank. A shimmering, richly colored, 3-D map appeared; while Min looked at it, he saw it through his mind’s eye and let out a surprised snort, complete with mini fire streams.
“What is it?” Min asked.
After a long pause, the longma replied. “It’s not a map of your world. It’s a map more so of mine. It’s not recommending places in your world to visit to recover ore or find scrolls or discover ruins or create or do new things. See the purple mark? That’s the home of the longgui, the dragon turtle, way at the top of the Bayan Har mountains; they love the way the clouds up there tickle their shell. And the green mark? That’s where the last of the Qilin reside in what remains of the Huang He forests; nearly all forests are gone, cut down for agriculture, but the Qilin reside in a small, magical forested part that remains. The red dot marks the home of the Tianma; he hides in a tributary off the Yellow River nestled in a copse of trees. The heavenly horse followed a wandering star down and carved out this river and its tributaries at the dawn of time. The waters flowed down from heaven to bless the land. And the orange mark is the sacred pool of the Yulong, the white dragon horse; she can tolerate more brackish water than I and makes her home at the southernmost part of the river, at the mouth of the Bohai Sea. She most enjoys riding the sea foam in the early mornings.”
Min listened attentively and caressed the edges of the map with her fingers; the edges shimmered and seemed to simultaneously recede and expand suggesting the map lacked any boundaries. A mountain range as far off as Italy rose before her with a pulsing white light buried deep within the Umbrian region. The longma inhaled a sharp breath.
“Who is it?” Min asked.
“It’s Thyrus, the dragon of Terni. We all thought he perished at the hands of a knight of the House of Cittadini. Word reached us that the knight killed him, and carved his likeness into Terni’s coat of arms. Stars. He’s alive! And must be lonely.”
“Well, can you go and visit him?” Min asked.
“I cannot; I am tied to this river. I can travel the river and its streams, but that’s all. Magic has rules like anything else. I can whisk you to the top of the mountains and to the mouth of the sea but I am bound by the Yellow River’s waters. I can take you to the longgui if you’d like to go? All you need to do is climb upon my back.”
Min considered this for a second and climbed up, sneakers sliding along the longma’s beautiful scales. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned down and nestled close. Her hands could feel the swirl of magic pulsing just beneath his skin. Comfortable, she set her mind to their unfolding adventure.
The longma soared over the water, the wind seemingly moving through them. Possibility lit every nerve in Min’s body as she left her village’s boundaries and really looked at the vast country streaming by them. He called upon the past and shared with her what had been: the once lush forests and plains and rivers teeming with fish. We could heal the land through science and magic, he thought. What could we do if we worked together? Lost in thought, the longma abruptly halted and turned, finally stopping to tap a rather large, round stone in a lake nestled at the top of the Bayan Har mountains. The stone shivered, rolled to its side and a head the size of several large dragonfruits broke the water’s smooth surface, gaze piercing the newcomers.
“Longgui, this is Min. Min, this is Longgui, the dragon turtle.”
“Hungry are you both? That must have been quite the trip,” the longgui replied.
“Quite,” Min shared, “it is a most unexpected adventure.” She reached into her pocket and took out a small lunch she’d packed for herself and divided it into three tiny portions, and offered it to the dragon horse and dragon turtle.
“Very kind, young one, thank you. And I will add fish and seaweed to the feast.” The longgui dove down, reappearing with a maw full of fish and seaweed, leading the way to the shore. “And what brings you here, to the beginning of the river?”
Min shrugged, taking off her shoes and sitting comfortably along the edge of the lake between the two until-now legendary beings. “The map,” she shared, “it brought us to you. I think that maybe I can help you.”
“Help us?” The longgui questioned, “What do we need help with?”
“Well, you’re bound to the river just as Longma is, correct? You exist within the boundaries of your protectoral area? And you care for it as best you can. Longma said he couldn’t travel to see Thyrus. Do you want to travel? Do you want to see the world beyond the river? Beyond China?”
“Is such magic possible? How can you carry a river youngling?”
“With science. But, I’d need some money. They move marine animals all the time: whales and dolphins and sharks. I’d need to buy a specialized truck. And I’d need a pump to move the water and then technically you could travel, right? Does it work like, as long as you’re touching the water you’re good? Does the water ever get old and lose its tether to you? How long can you be out of the water?”
“We’ve never left the water just as the Huli Jing never wanders far from its den. We have no way of knowing the answers to your questions. But this may help,” and the dragon turtle ambled into the water, dove, and took their time–so much time Min began to worry.
“Could you really take our river with us?” Longma wistfully asked.
“I think so. I–”
Longgui popped their head up, cheeks puffed out. Lumbering to shore, they opened their mouth, and a cascade of gold coins tumbled to the soft green grass below. “You can have as many as you need, Min. I have no need for such things but a very thankful Emperor once insisted that these gifts were valuable. I much prefer the gold of the sun to the gold of these discs.”
“Longgui, are you up for a trip? Can you meet us down the Yellow River where Longma resides? I will find a truck and a pump, and I would very much like to take you on an adventure. We will visit Thyrus first; it sounds as though he may need to see his friends,” Min smiled.
“Yes, yes. I travel slower than the longma. One week’s time and I will meet you on the plateau.”
Min climbed astride Longma, and wove her hands through his fire-colored mane. He tried to remember the last time he’d allowed someone on his back and couldn’t; it was nice. Why? he thought, why do I think it’s nice?
She trusts you, the magic whispered; she harbors no fear of you.
“Take us home,” she whispered. When they arrived, Longma stood atop the water as close to the river bank as possible.
“May I ask a question of you?”
Min nodded.
“Were you never scared or uncertain of me?”
“No!” Min laughed. “Scientists aren’t afraid of anything. They are open to all possibilities and discoveries. They may be cautious, but ultimately, they seek and protect the truth of things. I was never scared or uncertain of you. I was curious and full of wonder. Good night, Longma.” And with that, she walked home, sneakers squelching.
That night beneath the darkened waters, thanking the stars for their light, Longma lay thinking with the magic. Can I really leave the river? Can I see the world?
Perhaps, the magic replied.
What if it’s not what I expected? Longma worried.
What if it isn’t? the magic replied.
I am forgotten to them, Longma thought.
So am I, magic echoed, but perhaps not forever.
Exactly one week later, Min arrived with an enormous vehicle that the dragon horse had never seen before. He stood amid the swirling waters thinking so much metal and glass would be cold, dangerous. He stood unsure of Min’s plan and watched, as if by magic, how Min moved a lever and the device, called ‘hose,’ sucked up the river, depositing it into the truck. Then Min clambered into the water itself, and used the hose to arc the water she’d pumped into the truck back into the river so the dragon horse and dragon turtle could move themselves from the river to the truck. Once inside, the glass walls allowed them to see everything. Longma found he could stand atop this water and stand still as the truck moved; he was moving but not, which was quite a new and grand experience. Min decided the best course of action was to drive at night to avoid people. She explained that people weren’t the same as they used to be and that it was better to be undetected for a bit. So occasionally the magic kept them invisible. That didn’t matter to the beings in the movable river; with perfect eyesight they saw everything: the metal cities, the underground carriages: everything. And they shared their awe at the inventions. But they shared their sadness at the loss of the natural world and the places where so many of their kind lay hidden, sometimes buried and forgotten.
It was a long journey among winding roads and ferry boats. Min asked as many questions as she could think about the nature of magic and its workings in the natural world. Before sleeping, Min wrote everything in her notebook, puzzling out how magic and science could work together to help the world. After long conversations with her new friends, she realized that magic and science shared much in common, such as Newton’s laws.
She also added heavy vehicle mechanics to her skillset. A few times when the truck broke down, they were discovered and the humans stood in awe and humility. They recalled the stories of their people and the power of possibility. The people pledged their silence as well as their belief in a better future; embracing a new purpose, they rose each day with determination. Longma watched Min, thinking the magic rightly chose her; though she didn’t understand magic, she accepted it as he had long ago. She is the best never-empress that will ever be, Longma thought to himself.
They found Thyrus in Italy.
Over a shared meal of pasta and delectable vegetables and poached fish for Longgui, Min confided in her friends: “People,” Min shared, “really most people, have forgotten that worlds exist within worlds; they just see the world in front of them. But just as there are ecosystems on our skin, and among the leaves and roots of a tree, and flung far out into space, there are things in the world which we cannot always see yet exist. Magic, after all, is just another kind of science I think. I think you came to me because we can help the world together, if you’re ready. It won’t be quiet. It will be loud and messy and we’ll need to stand together. And some people will be scared and act poorly. But I think more will rejoice and wonder and want to atone and cherish and learn, remembering.”
Longma, Longgui, and Thyrus smiled.
Min showed the world real magic.
And the world rose up to protect it.
* * *
About the Author
By day, Kathryn Reilly helps students investigate words’ power; by night, she resurrects goddesses and ghosts, spinning new speculative tales. Sometimes she even tells the truth. Enjoy poetry in Shadow Atlas, A Flight of Dragons, Last Girls Club and fiction in Seaside Gothic, Bikes, the Universe, and Everything, Fish Gather to Listen, and Chthonic Matter Quarterly. Her rescue mutts hear all the stories first. When she’s not working or writing, you can find her rewilding suburban spaces. Follow at @writingkate.bsky.social