I sat in a garden. Except garden felt like too small a word.

Life-size topiaries shaped like elephants, dragons, monkeys, and tigers adorned the grounds. Every few seconds, they changed poses. The elephant’s tail flicked at a cicada, the dragon stretched its neck, and the monkey scratched itself. Clusters of bamboo trees hugged stone pavilions whose arches and columns were draped in white magnolia blossoms.

Mango trees heavy with golden fruit lined a cobblestone walkway that led to a vibrant pink grove. A gilded bridge arced over a clear pond where lotus blossoms floated like lanterns.

Directly before me, waterfalls cascaded from the clouds into a shimmering pool whose reflective surface somehow remained perfectly still. At either side of the mirror pool stood two elegant posts, one made of silver and the other of gold. A lantern hung from a hook at the tip of the silver post, its light a soft glow.

In the Hmong creation story that my mom used to tell, the Sky Father, Ntuj, fashioned two celestial lanterns—the sun and the moon—and ordered his servants to carry them across the sky to divide the days. The golden lantern was missing from its hook now because it was on its daily journey.

“Please tell me I’m not dead,” I murmured. Panic fluttered in my gut. But if this was the afterlife, it could definitely be worse.

“You’re not dead,” said a voice to my right. “You’re dreaming.”

I startled, surprised to find a man sitting on the stone bench at my side. Had he been there before? He wore a robe—not the fancy silk kind you’d expect from someone who lived in a place like this, but a fluffy blue bathrobe. He had warm brown skin and gray hair, and a clipped beard that gave him a grandfatherly look. On his feet were fuzzy white slippers that could have been fashioned from clouds.

I must have looked as confused as I felt, because the man smiled kindly and closed the book in his lap. It was A Game of Thrones.

“Are you a reader?” he asked.

“Uh…” I began. Adults were always telling kids not to talk to strangers. But what was I supposed to do in a dream? “I’m more of a TV and movie watcher, actually.”

“Ah, technology. Most of my daughters switched to digital readers, but I like the feel of paper and ink. Besides, the signal up here is terrible, and unlike my daughters, I can’t make trips down to the mortal realm for the free Starbucks Wi-Fi.”

“This is a dream…” I said, repeating the only words he’d said that made any sense.

“Oh yes,” he confirmed with another smile. “It’s truly wonderful to see you again. It has been a very long time.”

I rubbed my forehead. What had I been doing before I fell asleep?

“We’ve missed you—my youngest, Gao Pa, especially.”

“Do I know you?” Something about him seemed familiar, but I knew we’d never met.

“At one time you did, yes. And if we’re lucky, perhaps you will again someday. But time runs short, and you need to get back. I can’t let you do that trick with the rain again, though. It’ll attract far too much attention, and you should stay as inconspicuous as possible. Since I gave my word long ago that you shouldn’t be reincarnated, I can’t offer you any more assistance.” His thick gray eyebrows drew together. Storm clouds gathered behind his eyes, complete with the ominous flicker of lightning. “But I can give you a warning: You cannot trust anyone, Pahua, not even those close to you. You’re in danger.”

His words made my skin prickle. Danger? The image of a demon in a floral sundress flashed through my mind. There’d also been a man, his hair gray not from age but dust, and…a forest of bamboo trees. I jumped to my feet. The Bamboo Nursery!

The man touched my arm. The spiral symbol rose against my skin, shimmering with golden celestial light.

I realized then who he had to be. “Ntuj?”

He clasped rough, weathered hands around mine and said gently, “I cannot help you. But fortunately, you already possess the power to help yourself.”

The spiral on my arm glowed brighter. Heat seared my skin. I gasped and wrenched my hand away—

I jolted awake, sitting up straight in the Bamboo Nursery. My heart thundered and I was breathing hard, as if I’d just run a mile.

Miv leaped onto my shoulder and pressed his face into my neck. “Thank the gods,” he said. He’d been on my chest, shouting my name.

I hugged him back with trembling arms. Overhead, the bamboo trees loomed, both beautiful and somehow threatening. “How long was I asleep?”

“Not long. Maybe thirty minutes. I’ve been trying to wake you, but nothing would work. Sorry.” He nosed my palm, where there was a kitten-size bite mark, next to other scratches from my fight with the poj ntxoog. Now that he’d pointed out the punctures, I felt a dull throb there.

Zhong lay on her backpack a few feet away. Her legs were splayed and her arms thrown over her head like she’d tried making a snow angel in the dirt. I would have found it funny if we weren’t in so much danger. Even though I’d awoken from the sleep enchantment, it still tugged at my consciousness, coaxing me back into its embrace. My head felt woozy. My body begged me to lie back down. But terror was a strong motivator, and I somehow found the strength to stand.

The symbol on my arm had faded, but I could still feel its burn. I’d dreamed of the Sky Father. Had it been only that—a dream? Or had it been real? He’d said he missed me, but he hadn’t meant me. He’d meant the part of me that was once Shee Yee.

Had Shao been telling the truth? It was still hard to wrap my mind around it. If the oracle was to be believed, Ntuj was my grandfather. He’d mentioned his youngest daughter, Gao Pa. Shee Yee’s mother?

I thought of my own mom back home. Right now, she was probably still praying to the ancestral spirits over my little brother. Matt was dying, his soul lost somewhere in the Spirit Realm, because of me. So much for me being a powerful shaman.

I hung my head in shame and my hair clip nearly slipped off. It was an ugly shade of purple with the letter P outlined in rhinestones. Most of the stones had fallen out, but it was still one of my most precious possessions. The clip was the first thing my mom had gotten me after my dad left. I couldn’t lose it.

Once I had resecured it, I went over to Zhong and grabbed her shoulders. I shouted into her ear, “Wake up!”

She didn’t so much as twitch. I would just have to carry her out of this place. Except, for someone shorter than me, Zhong was a lot heavier than she looked. I couldn’t get her onto my back, and Miv wasn’t any help.

“Sorry about this,” I said to Zhong as I grabbed both her arms and began dragging her through the underbrush. I winced every time her head bumped a rock or a fern slapped her face. Dirt stained her clothes and backpack. Twigs disappeared into her hair.

Miv contributed by riding on my shoulder and shouting encouraging things like “You need to build your upper-body strength.” And “You can do it, because if you don’t, you’ll both die.” And “What would Shee Yee do?”

I wrinkled my nose. How could anyone think I was some reincarnated hero after how badly I’d messed up with the bridge spirit? But then, there was that dream with the Sky Father. And the glowing mark on my arm…I definitely hadn’t made that up.

Assuming we survived this, I would have time to figure it out later. I grunted and strained, growing more exhausted with every excruciating step. The bite on my hand and the claw scratch on my arm stung. My various bruises ached. I nearly tripped more than once, but somehow I kept my feet under me each time. I knew that if I fell again, I wouldn’t be getting up. At last, the forest thinned, and I glimpsed a road beyond the last stretch of trees.

I could have cried with relief as we finally broke free of the Bamboo Nursery. The demon department store was gone. Now there was only a long stretch of road past the tree line and rolling hills on either side. I collapsed into the grass, gasping for air. My back and arms throbbed. But even as I lay there, energy surged back into me.

Zhong’s eyes opened. She frowned up at the sky. I could tell she was trying to remember what had happened. Then her eyes went huge, and her face paled. She sat up, looking frantic until her gaze found mine.

“I fell asleep!” she whispered, horrified.

“I did, too,” I admitted, still trying to catch my breath. “But I woke up again, and look”—I gestured limply to the open sky—“we made it out.”

“How… ?” She trailed off as she touched the matted tangle that was her hair. With a cry of alarm, she stood, brushing leaves and debris from her clothes. Dirt cascaded off her in a mini landslide. When her fingers touched a spot on her head that had bumped into a rock, she winced and demanded, “What did you do to me?”

“I had to drag you,” I said, rubbing my aching arms. “I couldn’t wake you up.”

“You couldn’t have done it more gently? And you lost some of my pins!” She patted frantically at the pockets of her jean jacket, counting the pins that were left. A bug fell from her hair. “Ugh!” Disgusted, she flicked it back into the Bamboo Nursery.

“You’re welcome,” I said stiffly. We’d nearly died, and she wanted to yell at me for not saving her life more gently? Unbelievable!

I shoved myself to my feet and stalked away. We wouldn’t even have been in the Bamboo Nursery in the first place if not for Zhong, and what had we learned from Shao anyway, other than that I was Shee Yee’s reincarnation? Okay, fine, that was kind of a major deal, but what about Matt? The oracle hadn’t told us where to find him or how to defeat the bridge spirit, just that I had to “use my gifts.”

Miv was quick on my heels. “We should have left her behind,” he said.

I huffed and looked around, wondering where in the Echo we might be. Remarkably, I recognized the road as the same one we’d arrived on. Where Thread and Needle had been, there was only the Bamboo Nursery, exactly where Zhong had said it should be. The demons must have cleared out when their trap failed to snare us.

I glanced back at Zhong, who was still picking dirt off her jacket, and felt suddenly overcome by a wave of hopelessness. Taking a deep breath, I tried to calm the panic twisting my stomach. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been away from Matt for this long outside of school. He was like my second shadow, always at my side, and I was so worried about him that it hurt.

After a moment, Zhong stepped up beside me, her arms crossed over her chest. “I’m sorry.”

My eyebrows rose. Had she really just apologized?

“And thank you.” She looked me up and down, eyes narrowed, like she was seeing me again for the first time. She smiled, but I could tell that it was forced. “I guess he wasn’t kidding about you. Who else would be able to wake themselves up in the Bamboo Nursery?”

My shoulders tensed. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?” she asked, her lips still fixed into that terrifyingly fake smile.

“Look at me like that. Stop it. You’re creeping me out.”

Her smile transformed into a scowl, which was more like it. “It’s just weird, okay? I grew up on stories about Shee Yee, and now he’s…you. I don’t know if I should be bowing or—”

“Please don’t.”

“That was the last thing I expected Shao to say, so I’m not sure how to deal with it yet.”

“Well, neither do I! So just…don’t be weird about it, okay?” I turned away, arms crossed tight. “Nothing’s changed about me.”

Zhong stuck her nose in the air again. “Fine, then.” But I caught her glancing at me out the corner of her eyes, like she was still trying to square what she knew about Shee Yee with the skinny kid standing next to her.

“Anyway, why did we even come here?” I asked. “Why would anyone from your school ever risk going into that forest?”

“Shaman masters have the spiritual focus to resist the sleep enchantment long enough to speak with Shao. Sometimes they bring their apprentices. I came here once before, with Master Bo.”

My eyes narrowed. “You said you’re a shaman warrior, but you’ve only been here once, with your mentor?”

She winced and pretended to inspect her nails. “Technically, I’m…not a shaman warrior…yet.”

I sucked in a furious breath. “You lied to me! You could’ve gotten us both killed!”

Miv made a small, judgmental harrumph and then trotted off ahead. Without a word, Zhong and I followed him. I should have known something wasn’t right with her story, but she talked with so much confidence, and she always had a good answer for everything. At least when I pretended to be something I wasn’t, I never tried to pass it off as the truth or risked anyone’s life.

Part of me did want to leave her behind. But the way back home likely went through the elephant statue, and I still needed her help in getting the door between realms to open.

“Since I’d been here before, I thought I’d be strong enough.” Zhong’s hands curled into fists. “I was fine with Master Bo. I should’ve been able to do this without him!”

“You should have told me the truth. You kept accusing me of hiding something, when you were the one who was lying.” I felt like an idiot.

I wasn’t just furious that she’d put our lives in danger; I was disappointed, too. I’d been so awed by her, a warrior who was everything I wasn’t—brave, powerful, confident. But she was just a better pretender than me, and I was the biggest pretender I knew.

Now that I was supposed to be the reincarnation of the first and most powerful shaman in Hmong mythology, did that make me a super pretender? Demigod of pretending? Pretender Supreme?

For once, I didn’t have to imagine I was someone more interesting. Except…it didn’t feel real. It felt less real, actually, than all the times I’d pretended to be someone else. Being told you’re supposed to be some big-shot shaman isn’t the same as making something up yourself.

And besides that, in my dream, the Sky Father had said that he and the other gods agreed that Shee Yee shouldn’t be reincarnated. Shao had said the same thing. But…I was here. So what did that mean?

“I shouldn’t have lied,” Zhong said, glowering. If she was going to be sorry, she could at least look it. “But I’m on a quest for the school. The shaman elders sent me to investigate what happened with the bridge spirit and to ensure it reached the Tree of Souls for reincarnation. It’s my only chance to prove myself so I can earn the blessing of the school’s guardian spirit.”

“Your only chance? What happens if you fail?”

Her lips pressed into a firm line, the way mine sometimes do when I’m trying not to cry during the sad parts in a movie. Miv always teases me for it, and Matt sits in my lap to make me feel better.

“Then I don’t pass my year,” she said, “and I have to leave the school. I’ll never become a shaman warrior. Without the guardian spirit’s blessing, I’ll be an outcast.”

If there was one thing I understood, it was being an outcast. Even though it was hard for me to trust her, I couldn’t abandon her.

“I need to save my brother. You need to finish your quest. And both involve the bridge spirit. So let’s do this, then. Partners?” I stopped walking long enough to hold out my hand.

She gave it a suspicious look—either that or she was grossed out by my grimy fingers and dirt-encrusted nails. But she must have decided she didn’t have any more choice than I did, because she finally shook it.

“Okay, so what’s our next step?” I asked as we continued walking.

“I’ll have to perform the ritual to project our spirits into the Spirit Realm. We’ll need a secure place where we won’t be disturbed.”

“My room back home?” I suggested. My door had a lock. I wasn’t actually allowed to use it, but I figured this could be an exception.

“I’ll have to scope it out first.”

There wasn’t a lot to “scope out” other than the fact I hadn’t made my bed that morning, but I nodded anyway. “And then what? How do we find my brother in the Spirit Realm? He’s got less than three days.”

“I have a spirit friend who’ll be able to help us search, and she’s really fast. It should be fine.”

It wasn’t much of a plan, but I reminded myself that Zhong had a lot on the line as well. Her entire future was riding on us defeating the bridge spirit. If she was confident her friend could help, then I had to believe it.

Hopefully, we wouldn’t run into any more demons, either. Speaking of which…“I’ve been thinking,” I said. “The name of the poj ntxoog’s trap was Thread and Needle.”

“Because it was a clothing store.”

“Yeah, and I might be wrong, because my Hmong is kind of terrible, but isn’t the Hmong word for thread—”

“Xov!” she shouted, before clapping her hands over her mouth and looking around anxiously. “Oh no. The god of destruction would have poj ntxoog working for him. The demons did mention a ‘he,’ and it would make sense. If Shee Yee was the one who imprisoned him, he’d want revenge.”

Specifically, revenge on me. I cringed. I was hoping she’d tell me I was wrong, but now a cold dread shivered along the back of my neck. Covering my face, I groaned into my hands. “Ugh, why is this happening?”

“But the demons said he’d told them not to kill you. Why would he want you alive?”

“I don’t know—to torture me probably!” As if things weren’t bad enough with my brother’s stolen soul, now I had an angry destruction god after me, too. What was I supposed to do with that? Dodge demons and hide away for the rest of my life?

I dropped my hands from my face and took a deep breath. No, running really wasn’t an option while my brother was lying unconscious, waiting for his sister to fix her mistake.

“I suppose I could do some research at school for warding off poj ntxoog,” Zhong said. “But that’ll take time we don’t have at the moment.”

“Right,” I said. Xov and his demons would have to be a problem for another day. For now, Matt was the priority. “Let’s worry about him after we save my brother. Shao said to use my gifts, but I don’t have any idea what those are. You know a lot about Shee Yee. What do you think?”

Zhong nodded. I wasn’t sure what she was agreeing with—probably the part where I said she knew a lot.

“Shee Yee had powers that most shamans outside of the school no longer possess,” said Zhong. “Like the ability to transmute objects or transform himself into other creatures, and the ability to send souls into the Spirit Realm without shamanic tools or rituals. You obviously used that talent already. You’re not very good at it yet, though, so you should probably not do it again until you get trained.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” I argued, but she continued as if I hadn’t spoken.

“I’m not sure about your magical skills yet, either, although you did summon that rainstorm….” Her eyebrows rose briefly, like she was grudgingly impressed. “But that wasn’t shaman magic, and anyway, it was way too flashy. You should be trying not to draw attention.”

“I didn’t do that on purpose, either,” I muttered.

“I’m not great at using magic without shamanic tools, so I can’t help you with that,” Zhong admitted, “but I could show you how to control your spiritual energy. That’s the first thing shaman warriors have to learn.”

“You would do that?” I asked, eyes narrowing.

Her chin jutted out. “What? I’m not good enough to teach you now that you’re Shee Yee?”

“That’s not what I meant! I’m just…surprised you’re offering.”

“Well, you should know how to do something.”

“Wow, thanks,” I said flatly. Then a thought struck me. “Is spiritual energy like the Force?”

She snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. We can’t move things with our minds. Even Shee Yee didn’t have that ability.”

“What about weapons?” I asked. “Did he have a cool shaman sword, or—”

“Yes, he was a master swordsman and archer,” said Zhong. Then she suddenly brightened, as if remembering something else. “Oh! His uncle, the Dragon Emperor, gave him a lightning ax. It was said to be able to split a tree with a single strike. That’s what Shee Yee used to defeat Xov.”

“Sounds awesome!” I said.

A weapon like that could not only defeat the bridge spirit, but it’d also be protection against any other godly henchmen who had a bone to pick with Shee Yee’s spirit—which apparently happened to be inside me.

A lightning ax was a weapon of legends. Could I really wield something so powerful? Every part of me that had dreamed of being something more screamed Yes!

“Where is it?”

Zhong’s shoulders slumped. “I have no idea.”

My heart sank.

“I know where it is,” Miv announced.

We’d reached the stretch of road where we’d first arrived, and there was the elephant statue. Miv had climbed onto its trunk and was sprawled against the warm stone.

I tilted my head at him.

“No need to look so skeptical,” the cat spirit said, licking his paw. “I haven’t always been with you. You’d be surprised by the things I know if you ever bothered to ask.”

“Well?” I said impatiently.

He grinned, his cat eyes filled with mischief. “It’s in the Spirit Realm, buried deep within the Tree of Souls.”