The room was circular and brilliant with swirling white light that threw rainbows off the white quartz walls. In the middle was a pedestal of the same rock, and on it was a vermillion sun, no bigger than Jin’s fist. It felt so strongly of her father, that she caught herself looking around for the man himself.
Jin walked to the pedestal slowly, waiting for another test or trap to appear. When none did, she reached for the sun. Her hand closed, and she felt the pendant, warm and appealing in her hand. And full of power – oh, so full of power, a dam filled to bursting, power unfamiliar and different from her own, but no less alluring for its strangeness.
The white light blazed more fiercely, and Jin closed her eyes against a blinding flare. It was as if flame danced on her face, and her clothes felt hot and painful. She reached into the pendant, preparing to pull its power into herself, to use it to put out the light before it burned her alive.
But as Jin touched the power, she heard a scream. Raw, pained, and she knew this power belonged to someone else. If she seized it, took it, she was seizing their essence, violating them in the most intimate manner possible. And not just one person but many. This power belonged to a thousand or more beings.
Jin trembled. Although she feared death, and although she wanted to save her father, she could not put their lives above so many. She could not steal the essence of strangers, even to save herself. If she did, she would not be a person worth saving.
Jin not only released the power, she reached into the pendant itself and fixed the hideous flaw within that allowed such power to be drawn through it so that no one could ever violate the natural order through it again.
Fire seared through Jin’s veins. As she fell to her knees, she realized the screams echoing around her were her own.
BAI reappeared at the Crescent Gate of New Moon Manor. Beneath his feet was darkest basalt and before him was a familiar amethyst arch of two crescent moons bent inward. Less familiar were high basalt walls capped with slate tiles. Between the moons were two massive iron doors. The last time Bai was here, everything had been open to reveal austere rock gardens.
He hesitated, wondering if he was prepared for the other changes he would find. After reflection, he was certain that he could handle anything. There was a large violet bell, also new, mounted near the gate, so Bai rang it.
Moments later the gate swung open to reveal two men, one in violet robes and the other in black, both with swords at their waists. They did a double take when they saw Bai, and he felt relieved that someone recognized him – until the violet fellow asked stiffly for his name and business.
“I am Bai, the First, and I would speak with Zi or Hei.”
His answer brought frowns to their faces and they conferred in whispers.
“Isn’t he dead?”
“But just in case–”
“Yes, I’ll ask.”
Black robes hurried away, and his partner watched Bai through narrow eyes. “You aren’t carrying the Starlight Sword,” he stated.
Since no reply seemed necessary, Bai said nothing until black robes returned. “We are to show you to the reception hall.” Both men stood aside and ushered him through the gate.
The building had at least doubled inside, and the rock gardens had been replaced by plants and a pond. They traversed a wide basalt path to the central hall, a circular structure that looked much the same as the day Zi and Hei had married fifty-odd millennia ago.
The interior was unchanged as well, walls of silver with the moon in all its phases surrounding him and a million obsidian stars set in the gleaming walls. Equally unchanged were Zi and Hei, sitting slightly apart, a stone’s throw from him.
Zi’s hair was deepest violet and twisted into a monstrosity atop her head whereas Hei’s black crew cut was even simpler than Bai’s hair. Their robes matched their hair – Zi in layered silk with an overwhelming amount of embroidery, and Hei in black cotton that looked almost mortal in its lack of ornamentation. Their eyes were closed in unlined faces, their heads cocked as if listening intently – and Bai supposed they were. Incense burned in front of each of them, a soft lavender smoke carrying prayers to Zi’s ears and a heavy black smoke for Hei’s. Their hands moved busily, dividing the smoke as they granted some requests and refused others.
Zi and Hei had set themselves up as the arbiters of love. Given the right opportunity, Zi could influence emotion and Hei essences. The rush of interest, of attraction made people susceptible to Zi, and once they were in love – well, love was the greatest transformative force any being could experience. And thus the reason Bai avoided strong emotion.
Bai cleared his throat, and their eyes snapped open. Hei immediately frowned, clearly annoyed, but Zi smiled smugly, an expression that Bai found far more unsettling than the glare.
“It’s considered polite to wear robes,” Hei growled.
Bai glanced down at his bare, still damp chest. It had been a long time since he had worried about things like appropriate attire, but he belatedly realized that this had been the reason for the guards’ odd reactions at the gate.
“But you never really cared about being polite, did you, Bai?” Zi observed. “I remember you once said, ‘Why would I waste time fulfilling an arbitrary expectation from others?’ when Noran told you to say please. Of course, your reply took far more time.”
“But was it a waste?” Bai drawled. He stepped forward. “I have met the God of Pleasure.”
Zi smiled more broadly. “You warned us that a child would lessen our power, but you were wrong.”
“Why do you say that?” Bai asked.
Hei snorted. “Because it’s true.”
Zi added, “It’s a simple matter to claim his power.”
Bai stiffened. They were keeping their own son’s power for themselves?
This was exactly why he had never liked Zi and Hei. They were the most deeply selfish beings he had ever met, much worse than Aka.
In his long life, Bai had come to believe that it was respect for other beings that made existence worthwhile. Perhaps it was because he had been alone, in a way that Zi and Hei as the youngest Colors never had, but he valued other beings. He would fight when challenged, he would kill to ensure his own survival, but he tried to let other beings live the way they wanted. He would never steal power, and he would not initiate an attack.
Truthfully, he had discouraged them from having children not because he cared if they split their own power or because he feared their offspring, but because he had known they’d be terrible parents. Telling Zi and Hei that they were unfit as parents would not have affected their decision to have children, but he knew how much they valued their power, their worshippers. So he had told them that any child they had would have both their powers and thus become the true God of Love.
“So you steal his power. What else did you do, ignore him? Beat him? Confine him?”
Bai shook his head angrily at their silence, reading his answer in their very essences.
“He’s five thousand years old,” Bai pointed out. “You think that just because you managed to suppress him so far that he won’t one day surpass you? You have not curtailed his power, simply delayed its realization. And when he does realize it, will he temper that power with the kindness and gentleness you showed him as a child? Will he demonstrate the self-control and restraint you taught him as an adult?”
Bai slapped his forehead. “Oh, I forgot. He’s an addict constantly struggling for self-control who wears the emotional scars of his childhood on his sleeve.”
“How dare you!” hissed Zi. She rose and purple sparks danced on her hands. “You are not a parent – don’t act as if you know everything!”
“You treated one of the most powerful beings to ever enter this world as worthless trash, so that is what he is becoming.” Bai shook his head. He was angry, but what was done was done.
Bai tried to teleport then, but to his surprise, he couldn’t break the ban they had laid on New Moon Manor.
Bai stiffened in shock. Bai was used to winning power struggles – only Gang, who had all of Noran’s power and half of Aka’s, had ever beaten him. Each Color formed with the same amount of raw power, but Bai had always been the strongest willed and the most creative with it. And even if they siphoned power off Xiao's power, some must leak through to him, so their pool must be smaller than Bai’s. So how did she hold him like this?
Zi smiled. “Wondering how I overpowered you? Worshippers, Bai. If you had become a god, you would understand that though one mortal’s belief isn’t worth speaking of, every million double my power.”
Million? How many mortals are there?
Zi continued to speak, lecturing Bai on the folly of entering their territory, but Bai shifted his focus to Hei. He might not like them very much, but he knew them well. Anytime Zi grew particularly exuberant, it was to divert attention from her husband.
Sure enough, just like the shadow he had once been, Hei was unobtrusively making his way toward Bai, the Night Sword held ready and low.
Bai’s confidence in his magical power had been misplaced; he wasn’t so foolish as to test his martial skills just because he could defeat Hei eighteen millennia ago.
So he spun and sprinted for the door.
Shadows writhed in the corners of the room, twisting together to form a golem, but Zi and Hei had been foolish to use so much silver in their decorating. Bai focused the light on those reflective surfaces, and the shadows were banished.
He shattered the wooden door with the palm of his hand, and then he was running across the wide basalt path from earlier. The black iron gate loomed in front of him; Bai knew it would be much harder to break than the wooden door of the reception hall.
He cut across the shrubbery toward the wall, thrice repelling Night and Moon disciples who tried to block his path. He heard the fast steps of Hei at his heels, but Bai was faster still.
He leapt as he reached the wall and changed into an egret. A few powerful wingbeats cleared the teleportation ban. So shocked was he at the increase in mortals that Bai was tempted to tour the world so that he would not be caught off guard again. However, he also now questioned whether his own essence trap that he had set for the young gods at his hermitage would hold.
Bai changed back into a man, and as he began to plummet, he teleported.
Five minutes later, he landed on the ground of his garden. As he caught his breath, he determined that the unknown thrill seeker still waited outside while Xiao and an oddness that was surely Jin were within the mountain. He rose and brushed himself off, heading for his door. When he entered the foyer though, he paused in surprise. Jin and Xiao had taken different routes. Jin had somehow seen the left-hand tunnel, the one he had tied to Cheng’s essence – or so he had thought.
A cold knot formed in his stomach – the route to Kunjee was dangerous, and he could tell she was in the final room. He began to run, admitting to himself that he would regret her death.
But she was not dead. She sat on the floor, her legs inelegantly sprawled before her. Kunjee was in her hand; she examined it the way a child looked at their first seashell.
As he entered the chamber, she lifted her head and blinked those glorious gold eyes.
“I found it,” she said.
JIN was exhausted. She had never used so much power in such a short time, not to mention whatever that searing light had been. She felt as if her very essence had been scoured.
When Trang entered the room, still shirtless and sweating, she had been slightly dumbfounded. Unable to think of anything else to say, she showed him the key in her hands.
“Yes, I see,” he told her, a single brow arched high. He touched the key lightly. “What did you do to it?”
“I fixed it. So that no power can be drained through it.”
“You fixed it. And you are both a master painter and warrior?”
Jin snorted in surprise. “Hardly! Well, I am a very good painter. That puzzle in the first room really confused me for a while. I’m still not totally sure what it was about – it just seemed like the Night God should be there if his wife was.”
Trang nodded slowly. “And the golem?”
“I cheated. I tweaked its purpose, and then I made my own door in the wall.”
Trang scratched his chin with his pointer finger. “You influenced it and reshaped my wall.” He expelled his breath. He smiled at her. “How many mortals worship the Goddess of Beauty anyway?”
“Oh – maybe a million. I’m not that popular. Why? Does it change your mind about giving me the key?”
He stared at her blankly before he started to laugh. Jin had no idea what had amused him, but its richness swept her up and she chuckled in bemusement. “What’s so funny?” She asked when the laughter faded.
Still smiling, he shook his head. “I’m not sure if I can explain. Just that this is the most confused I have been in, oh, seventy millennia. It’s intriguing.”
Jin suddenly bolted to her feet. “Seventy millennia? But – but I thought – who are you?”
“I’m Bai,” he told her.
Jin waited patiently for him to elaborate.
“Um – you don’t know that name? I’m the First.”
“The first what?”
Trang – or rather, Bai – blinked. “The first being. The first immortal.”
Jin couldn’t help but frown, for his words sounded true, but, “My father, the Sun Emperor, is the first immortal.”
He stepped back. “Aka is your father? And your mother?”
“My mother was the Goddess of Thought, but she died long ago.”
“I didn’t know her then.” He shook his head decisively and caught her hand. “Come with me.”
Jin followed dazedly, looking at his hand holding hers. It was rather bold of him, but she didn’t mind. Actually, she liked the way it felt.
He led her through the flame door she had made and back into the first room. He waved at the eight portraits, including the one that she had painted. “These, including myself, are the Nine Colors. The first and most powerful immortals.”
He pointed to the Night God first. “You are obviously familiar with Hei, Black, as this is an excellent likeness.”
Jin almost told him that the Night God would soon be her father-in-law, but she found she didn’t want him to know she was betrothed. So instead she said simply, “I’m not actually much of a portraitist, but I used my magic to fix it.”
“Hmm. And Zi, Violet.”
“Yes, the Moon Goddess.”
He pointed to the next one, but Jin had to shake her head.
“This is Ao, Indigo.”
“The Sea Dragon? I’ve never been to the Sea Palace. He and my father don’t get along.”
“At least some things have stayed the same,” Bai muttered. He moved on to the next.
“Isn’t this Neela the Wanderer?”
“Yes, Blue.”
“Her hair was beautiful.” Jin lifted her hand as if to stroke it, but she didn’t quite touch the painting. “And she looks so young.” Jin sighed. “Mother’s death must have aged her.”
“Mother – the Goddess of Thought?”
“Yes – she was NeeNee’s only child.”
“I’m sorry, is Neela your grandmother? Was the Goddess of Thought named Aashchary?”
“Yes. You knew her, too?”
Bai cocked his head. “It would be too much to say I knew her, but I – I met her once.” Jin picked the rest of the thought from him.
“You delivered my mother?” If his age had shocked her, this left her feeling totally off-kilter.
He flushed. “You are Neela’s granddaughter, indeed.”
Jin looked at the next portrait herself, not wanting to dwell on the fact the man that she was attracted to had watched her mother be born. “Haraa has only changed a little bit. She couldn’t help my father.”
“What happened to Aka?”
&n
bsp; Jin hesitated. Gang had wanted her to keep it a secret. “He’s dying.”
“You said as much earlier. You don’t want to tell me more?”
Jin flushed. “It’s not that exactly – my brother said that – it’s just–”
“It’s alright.” He stepped in front of the next portrait. “You probably haven’t seen Noran before. She was yellow, and the mother of your brother Gang.”
Jin looked at the painting again. “The Scholar must have enjoyed painting her, don’t you think?”
Bai, who had been standing close to her shoulder, jerked away. “What do you mean by that?”
Jin turned to look at him in surprise. “Just – the feeling is a little different, isn’t it? There’s more emotion in her expression – her eyes almost sparkle.”
Bai stared at her a long time, and Jin wondered what ignorance she had revealed now. Finally he pointed to the black stamp at the bottom on the side of the painting. “You recognized this?”
Jin nodded. “Yes. I’ve seen some of the Scholar’s paintings before.” She suddenly realized that Bai probably commissioned these portraits. “You’ve met him, haven’t you? What was he like?”
“He – he’s standing next to you.”
Jin looked to her other side before realizing her mistake. She looked back at him, her face burning. “You are the Scholar?”
Bai nodded. “Some people called me that.”
Jin nodded slowly. “It makes sense. The Great Warrior would feel comfortable leaving the key with you.”
He had started laughing again. “That was simply another one of my titles. When you live as long as I have, you accrue quite a few.”
Jin wanted the ground to swallow her. He must think her the stupidest being he’d ever met!
She practically shoved her finger at the next portrait. “I don’t recognize him at all.”
Bai’s laughter abruptly ended, and his brows knit. “Cheng? Orange? But this chamber was keyed to Cheng’s essence, so I thought...”
Jin shrugged. “I’ve never heard that name before.”
Bai rubbed his chin. “Maybe he went into isolation like me.” The frown didn’t leave his eyes, but he gestured to the last painting. “And obviously you know Aka. Red.”
Vows of Gold and Laughter (The Immortal Beings Book 1) Page 11