This whole room felt oddly familiar, and Jin would have liked to discuss it with Bai, but she hadn’t seen him since he ran from her last night.
Someone scratched at the door, and Jin hurried to open it, hoping that Bai had returned.
But it was Lady Atsuko. She bowed. “Good morning, divinity. My father is awake–” Lady Atsuko looked at Jin’s face and paused. “Was the room alright?”
“Oh, yes, the room is beautiful. I like it very much.” Jin brought a smile to her lips and banished her disappointment.
Lady Atsuko nodded. “My father is awake. I will escort you and the First there now if...”
Jin nodded. “Thank you.”
Lady Atsuko didn’t move. After a moment, she asked. “Will the First be long?”
Jin felt a flush rising on her cheeks. “Isn’t he – that is, the First isn’t here.”
“Oh – then–” She was cut off by several shouts, and Lady Atsuko whipped her head toward the front courtyard.
“Please excuse me,” she murmured with a quick bow before hurrying away.
Jin had no intention of being left behind and followed.
They emerged in the large front garden of Tsuku to find a crowd of perhaps fifteen. They must have been the ones who had been yelling, though it had been replaced by stern argument.
“You cannot teleport here,” objected an unfamiliar male voice.
“Except obviously I did, and for good reason.” That was Bai. Jin wished she could see through the crowd, but even without a visual, she could tell he was distraught.
Lady Atsuko strode into the crowd, Jin at her heels. People objected to being pushed until they realized who was doing the pushing – then they quickly moved out of the way. Soon Jin and Lady Atsuko were at the middle of the circle, where a man in leather armor was facing down Bai. Bai looked deathly tired, if not ill. He was half naked and filthy, salt and dirt flecking his torso and arms. He was also propping up a massive turquoise statue of a sleeping man.
Jin tried to listen to the argument, but her eyes kept returning to the statue and her hand began to itch and burn with need. Unable to ignore its silent demand, she touched the stone. Without knowing why, she imagined the turquoise dripping away – and then it did, like melting candle wax.
Jin lost track of the people around her – it was just her and this strange statue. But it wasn’t a statue at all. When the turquoise had puddled at her feet, a dry, desiccated corpse fell into her arms.
She gently lowered the wasted body. Though she would have expected it to be rigid, the body folded. Jin suddenly realized that the corpse was far warmer than it ought to be.
“Fate be merciful,” she hissed. “It’s alive.”
Bai knelt beside her and touched the not-dead body. He checked its wrist, looking for a pulse, Jin supposed.
It was hardly necessary for the next moment, the eyes flew open and revealed irises the color of hot coals.
“Cheng,” Bai said. “You’re free.”
Cheng? The name bounced around in Jin’s head, but she refused to place it.
Cheng’s eyes closed again.
Still cradling the body in her arms, Jin looked at Bai for answers. There were none in his shuttered expression.
He reached out and scooped the body into his arms. He lifted the old man and began striding away. Jin hurried after, as did Lady Atsuko.
“That... thing... is Cheng?” Lady Atsuko asked Jin.
Jin hesitated. “Yes. You know Cheng?”
“He was – is – one of my father’s dearest friends. But no one has seen him in millennia.”
The name finally settled into place, and Jin stumbled. Cheng. My grandfather. The Color Orange.
Jin looked at Lady Atsuko and was shocked by the horror etched on that usually serene face.
She thinks he was sealed in that rock for all that time.
Swift on heels of that thought, Jin realized, It must have been NeeNee who created that prison. But why? Because – because he was the father of her child? But – I don’t understand!
Bai hesitated just inside the hall, and Lady Atsuko said, “Bring him to my father’s room. He needs to bear witness – and he’ll want to know as–” her voice cracked “- a friend.”
They stepped into the room, and Lady Atsuko set about setting up a futon for Bai to set Cheng on. Feeling awkward and useless, Jin looked around the room and found a man staring at her from a raised bed. Propped up by plump pillows, he seemed as frail as a baby bird. White wisps of hair clung to a spotted scalp, and his skin was wrinkled and loose. The only energy in his mien was from his eyes, wide, brown, and moist, like the deer he once was, and rapidly taking in his guest. He lifted one clawed hand and flapped his fingers to beckon her closer. Jin knelt at his side.
“I expected my daughter to bring you and the First,” he whispered, his voice whistling and breathy, “but what does he carry?”
Jin clasped her hands together. “That is Cheng. Bai brought him here moments ago, encased in turquoise.”
The Moon Deer pressed his lips together, more sad than shocked, and focused on the scene behind her.
Jin turned to find Bai had settled him on the futon and was checking his vitals.
Wholly absorbed by the examination, Bai startled when he finished and looked up to find them watching.
“My friend,” Bai greeted the Moon Deer.
“I’m glad to see you looking so well,” the Moon Deer said solemnly. “Is that thing really Cheng?”
Bai nodded.
“He’s alive?”
Again Bai nodded.
“Is there anything I can get you, First?” Lady Atsuko asked.
“Would ice chips be possible?”
“Of course,” and she hurried from the room.
When the door had slid shut behind her, Bai rose and ran his fingers through his hair.
“You’re filthy,” declared the Moon Deer. “If he’s been sealed in stone for the past fifteen millennia, I doubt you taking a few minutes to wash will adversely affect him. Why don’t you avail yourself of my bath while the young Goddess of Beauty and I watch over him?”
Bai sighed. “Yes, you are right. Thank you.” Bai rose and went through the second set of doors in the Moon Deer’s room to his private onsen.
Jin squeezed her hands tighter. She felt like it was her fault that Neela had sealed Cheng in stone.
“So why did you come here?” asked the Moon Deer. “To pry secrets from my head like your Grandmother?”
The accusation didn’t match the weakness in his voice, and Jin didn’t know how to reply. “Secrets?’
Those brown eyes were pools of sadness as he explained. “That is why mortals and immortals alike come to Tsuku. To confess their deepest secrets and seek absolution. Or, if that is impossible, to make plans for those secrets to be revealed after they pass. Neela is not welcome here, for she has always believed that she is entitled to everything in someone’s head.” He cocked his head, and Jin had to stop herself from reaching out a hand in support, for it looked too heavy for his scrawny neck.
“You are more like your mother though, aren’t you?”
Jin felt her eyes widen despite herself. “You knew my mother?”
“Of course. She came here often with you and your father. The three of you always stayed in the room you are using now. Your father even collected some of your art for it.”
Jin’s lips parted before she pressed them together firmly. She didn’t think the father that the Moon Deer referred to was Aka.
Not knowing what to say, Jin turned and knelt next to Cheng. The wrinkled, pinched face mutely accused her of failing it.
“This happened before you were even born, so why do you look so guilty?” the Moon Deer asked.
“It’s just – my grandmother did this. I keep trying to think of something he might have done to warrant it, and I can’t.” She squeezed Cheng’s hand. “Part of me hopes that h
e did do something truly heinous, so that I can forgive NeeNee, but I also fear that because–”
“Because?”
The Moon Deer’s voice was so gentle and soft, that Jin found herself saying, “Because he’s my grandfather. My other grandfather did something unforgivable, and I think it would break my heart if he did too.” Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes. Every time she thought she had learned the worst of her family’s secrets, another was revealed. She looked back at him, and found the courage to ask, “You know who my other grandfather is, don’t you?”
The Moon Deer nodded. There was no judgement in those warm brown eyes, just acceptance of the world and all its vagaries.
Not knowing what else to do, Jin began to hum a children’s song, hoping Cheng might hear it and realize he was free of his prison.
BAI scrubbed his face and hair before sluicing water over his torso. From the room at his back, he heard a soft humming. Jin. Jin was humming to Cheng.
Bai sat down suddenly, feeling overwhelmed. She was kind and empathetic. He had seen how horrified she was by Cheng’s condition. He almost – almost – regretted finding Cheng when he realized how much it had hurt Jin.
A little over a month ago, she had been the beloved daughter of the affectionate if distant Sun Emperor, celebrating her long-anticipated betrothal. First her father confessed to her that he had trapped her mother into marriage with an unwanted pregnancy. Then she learned one of her siblings hated him so much that they’d placed a death curse on him.
Three weeks later, she found out he wasn’t her father at all because the brother she barely knew had in fact had an affair with her mother and it was possible – maybe probable – the Sun Emperor had arranged his wife’s death because of that.
But through it all, she had clung to the fact that the woman who raised her, her grandmother, was a good person who loved her. And now she knew that grandmother had trapped her grandfather in a rock for longer than she’d been alive.
What could Bai possibly say to comfort her?
Twenty millennia ago, he would have embarked on a crusade and executed all of these fate-cursed beings. But he no longer believed that was the right path. It would just bring more sorrow.
Bai took a deep breath and returned to the room.
Jin was holding Cheng’s hand, humming a lullaby, and crying. The Moon Deer was watching her silently, his own cheeks wet.
He had to face his fears because she needed him now. She was a thoroughly good being, and she had been hurt and would be hurt more. But he would do everything he could to soften the blows.
Bai knelt beside her and took her free hand in his own. Jin stiffened momentarily, then squeezed his fingers.
“I’m sorry I ran away yesterday,” Bai whispered in her ear. “I won’t abandon you again.”
BAI’S hand, and more importantly, his declaration, grounded Jin. His emotions and thoughts had clarified, and she could feel his love for her, his trust. They still had a way to go, to become better acquainted and to adjust to each other, but she suddenly was sure that they were going to move forward together and life seemed easier than it had just moments ago.
Jin let all her questions about Cheng and his sudden appearance flow out of her. Bai answered them as best as he was able, but it soon became clear that unless Cheng regained consciousness or Neela appeared to confess, they both had more questions than answers. The Moon Deer listened silently to all of it, and tears dripped from his brown eyes.
Thinking of Aka’s painful confession, Jin asked, not really expecting an answer, “Do you think he tricked Neela into becoming pregnant?”
To her surprise, the Moon Deer replied. “Cheng had feelings for Neela. They were friends, but he repeatedly asked her to consider a more serious entanglement. She always laughed off his confessions, preferring her casual affairs. He must have disguised himself to take advantage of that.”
“Neela was actively trying to get pregnant – she wanted a mortal father for a child,” Bai added when it was clear the Moon Deer had said all he was going to. “I don’t know if Cheng knew her intentions or not. I would guess it was bad luck.”
“That’s upsetting, if you are right,” Jin said slowly, “but I still can’t feel what she did was justified. It was torture.”
“Yes.”
BAI tried to think of a way to distract Jin from her worries. When he finally came up with an idea, he glanced at the Moon Deer. “You still keep secrets?”
“Of course.”
“Good. What you see next should be one. Jin, remember how you almost rebuilt Nanami’s hand?”
Jin blinked in confusion. “Of course. But...?”
“I think Cheng’s body could be restored in much the same way. Would you like to try?”
Jin bit her lip and then nodded. She tugged her hand free of his and settled both of her palms on Cheng’s shoulders.
And then a miracle unfolded.
So slowly that it took him several minutes to see the change, Cheng’s shriveled skin began to plump and smooth. His hands twitched as the muscles were restored; his hair changed from white to coral to the bright color of oranges. Bai tried to understand what she was doing, trying to read the essence of her power even though he ought to know better at this point. The room disappeared. Colors surrounded him, impossibly brilliant, clashing and complementing each other at the same time.
Suddenly they disappeared, and he sat next to Jin in the room once more, Cheng prostrated before them. Jin sighed and her whole body seemed to fold in on itself. Bai caught and steadied her before she fell on Cheng.
“She rebuilt his body. He aged in reverse,” the Moon Deer whispered, his voice sounding even.
“Yes,” Bai agreed, momentarily more concerned with Jin than Cheng.
“The body is very colorful,” she said dreamily. “It was surprisingly intuitive.” Jin glanced at her grandfather and blushed. Bai looked to see what had bothered her. The bits of rag that had clung to Cheng’s corpse were insufficient cover for his restored body, so Bai gently released her to grab a blanket.
“Why hasn’t he woken?” Jin asked.
Bai measured Cheng’s vitals again.
“He’s still comatose, even though his body seems healthy. I suppose his mind must have stopped after all the years...” Bai swallowed sudden emotion. When he trusted his voice to remain steady, he added, “Perhaps that is a blessing in disguise, and when he wakes, he won’t remember all of it.” “When” was perhaps overly optimistic, but Bai said it anyway.
“What are you doing in here?” demanded the Moon Deer, his voice stronger than it had been all morning. Surprised, Bai turned to see what had upset his friend, and followed his gaze to the door.
Karana was standing just inside the room, the door shut behind him. Bai felt cold. He hadn’t even heard the other being come in, he’d been so immersed in Jin’s working. “My apologies for intruding, Moon Deer. I came out of concern for my sister, but my knock went unanswered. You were all focused on my sister’s working.
“I can understand why, of course. I didn’t realize making things beautiful could be so holistic,” he said. “Your worshippers would triple, little sister, if mortals knew you could wind back time for them.”
“I can’t see doing this often,” Jin said. “Not only is it very draining, but usually aging should not be undone. This was a special circumstance.”
“So this is your friend,” Karana said to Bai, and Bai wasn’t sure if he’d even registered Jin’s words. “Cheng the Sleeper. If anyone can wake him, it will be Haraa. Will you take him to the Wood Pavilions?”
Bai stiffened. “I–” He looked at Jin.
“You can go. I will wait here.”
Bai’s hands fisted. He was reluctant to leave Jin alone, even in the home of the Moon Deer.
“Would you bring him, divinity?” the Moon Deer asked.
Bai started to say that Jin could not go, but then he realized the Moon
Deer was speaking to Karana.
Karana looked surprised then smiled. “For you, Moon Deer? Of course.”
Bai stiffened.
“Why does that make you so uneasy?” Karana asked. Reading Bai’s feelings, no doubt, with the power he inherited from his father.
Bai didn’t fully trust Haraa. She was after all Neela’s best friend – might she already know about Cheng’s imprisonment? Bai didn’t want to believe it, but it was possible.
Jin plucked the thoughts from Bai’s head. “Would you watch over him, Karana, and make sure he is safe? He must be protected from Neela until we have our answers. Salaana would do it, in the name of justice, wouldn’t she? And if – if he really is dangerous and should be imprisoned, she would take care of that as well.”
Karana nodded. “Yes. Jin – I’m sure you’re upset that NeeNee would do this, but try not to worry too much until you hear her side, all right? After all, Cheng is a stranger to us.”
Jin’s attempt at a smile looked painful to Bai.
As for Bai – he didn’t trust Karana, no matter how much he obviously cared about Jin. There was nothing in his essence that should alarm him – Bai could sense Karana’s deep reluctance to hurt anyone – but Karana was no stranger to plots.
Jin looked at Bai again – he must be thinking very loudly. She smiled in reassurance. “Karana – would you make a vow to seek Salaana’s protection for Cheng? To do your utmost to keep his release a secret from Neela?”
Karana considered. “I swear that I shall do everything in my power, short of murder, to protect Cheng from harm and ensure that Salaana, the Goddess of Justice, takes him into her protection.”
“Even you should be content with that,” said the Moon Deer to Bai. “I believe you can trust Karana.”
And what else was there to say?
Sooner than Bai liked, Karana teleported Cheng away.
Vows of Gold and Laughter (The Immortal Beings Book 1) Page 32