Claddings of Light : Book 12 of Painting the Mists

by Patrick Laplante

  “No!” both elders shouted.

  Cha Ming froze.

  “At least ten percent more,” Iridescent Virtue said. “Is that correct?”

  “Eight percent, I think,” Iridescent Charity corrected. Iridescent Wonder usually followed his gut while Iridescent Charity was more analytical.

  Catastrophe averted, Cha Ming continued the merging process. At forty-three percent fusion, he started slip-streaming in a blue-white runic matrix. All three of them clicked together like a puzzle. They vibrated and threatened to break, but Cha Ming used a focused but intense flame to feed the ongoing endothermic reaction.

  The process became increasingly smooth. Cha Ming was tempted to merge the iridescent essence at eighty percent but decided to wait a little longer until eighty-three percent. His intuition served him well, and the runic matrices slipped into place without any problems.

  He was left with a shimmering blob of iridescent liquid, which he continued boiling down until it reached a critical point and suddenly hardened. Only then did he increase the heat again to form a liquid layer on the outside. As it hardened, he used the Clear Sky Cauldron to inscribe an alchemical seal on the soon-to-be-completed pill. Energy rushed into the room as the Grandmist seal solidified.

  “You think it’ll work?” Iridescent Wonder said.

  “Quiet,” Iridescent Charity said. Both of them watched like hawks.

  Come on, Cha Ming thought as he watched the gray alchemical seal. A hint of iridescence was accumulating on the border between it and the rest of the pill. Small tendrils of color then began to leak into it. Cha Ming grinned, but seeing the elders frowning, he realized he’d celebrated too soon. The seal shook as it chased out the color, resulting in slight cracking.

  “Peak stage should do it,” Iridescent Wonder said. “I’m sure of it.”

  “You’re always so optimistic about your research,” Iridescent Charity said. “You should be dispassionate. Data oriented. Expect nothing.”

  “Fifty more research papers than you say I know what I’m doing,” Iridescent Wonder said.

  “More like twenty real papers and thirty review papers,” Iridescent Charity muttered.

  “Well, it’s a step in the right direction,” Cha Ming said. He was disappointed, but at least he’d succeeded in crafting it. “Should I rest before taking it?” He bottled the iridescent pill that hadn’t yet cooled.

  “Nonsense, boy,” Iridescent Wonder said. “It’s when you’re weak and vulnerable that these pills work best. Tempest girl, take him to the circle.” Cha Ming was jerked off his feet by the aggressive girl and Iridescent Virtue, who both shoved him into the room with the iridescent flames.

  “I think I need to rest, maybe just a—” He was cut off as Iridescent Charity forced the pill into his mouth. Why me?

  The room went dark, and suddenly, Cha Ming felt cold inside. He saw a sea of memories swimming beside him, each one much brighter than the last. They presented him different options for imbuing his flames. If he were an Iridescent Phoenix clansman, he could use this moment to choose a suitable emotion to undergo another burning.

  In his time in the Iridescent Phoenix Clan, Cha Ming had discovered that iridescence was more than just a color. Phoenixes were creatures of emotion, and the Iridescent Phoenix Clan no less so. Normal phoenixes underwent nirvana rebirth instead of a standard demon initiation. Those of the Iridescent Phoenix Clan didn’t undergo a physical nirvana, but an emotional one. One emotion equalled one burning. A single color that defined them. To progress, they would need to undergo additional burnings. Each burning awakened another emotion and another color, and only one those who completed five emotional burnings attained iridescence.

  I’m a human, though, Cha Ming thought. I don’t need five burnings. Just one is enough for a hint of iridescence.

  Memories flashed by, pressing him to choose. Last time, he’d chosen satisfaction. This time, he chose love. Flames entered his body, heating his blood and warming his soul. He remembered his times with Yu Wen.

  First came the time when they’d first met in Fuxi’s Library. Then came their budding relationship on the Bridge of Stars. Altogether with Jade Moon Planet, they’d spent nearly a decade together. A decade of warmth and wonder.

  His feelings for her condensed into a gentle red flame. It was a comforting, lovely thing. This was what he needed to merge with his Grandmist flame. It had power that could burn down all obstacles. Before he could move to do so, however, more memories emerged. The red flame sputtered and weakened. These were new memories. Fresh ones. They were memories of Mi Fei and the tension between them.

  Merge, he urged anyway, knowing that he only had a single chance per pill he took. He had a feeling it would become harder with each attempt. Besides, it was far brighter than the golden one before, even with those unpleasant memories inhibiting it. He urged the red flame toward his Grandmist flame.

  Slowly but surely, he pushed them together. One mighty and red and one an unyielding gray. As he forced them together, he felt a splitting headache. I need more power, he thought, activating Thirty-Six Heavenly Transformations and the Crown of the Starry Sky.

  He used the boost of power to push them closer together and his intuition to manipulate them. The flames flickered and danced as they inched closer, never touching. Neither flame knew what to do with the other. Both were strong, but they weren’t compatible. Still, he pushed them, and when he did, they both reduced in volume.

  Merge, Cha Ming urged. But the flames pushed back. Why won’t you merge? And to his surprise, a voice answered him. It was a familiar buzzing that transmitted ideas rather than words. The voice of the Clear Sky Brush. Too weak? he asked. She buzzed an affirmative. Cha Ming was at a loss as to what to do.

  You won’t take love and you won’t take satisfaction, Cha Ming said. What will you take?

  It responded with a confused sputter. Whatever it would take, it wasn’t this stupid red flame. To demonstrate its point, the gray flame leapt over and devoured the red one, completely extinguishing it. The darkness retreated, and he found himself sitting inside the runic circle.

  The elders looked down at him expectantly. “My apologies,” Cha Ming said. “It was a failure.”

  “Peak should do it,” Iridescent Wonder said with a nod. “We need a peak pill.”

  “I think this might be a lost cause,” Iridescent Charity said uncertainly.

  “Who’s to say?” Iridescent Wonder said. “It’s worth a try, isn’t it? Especially with such a rare research specimen. Would be a pity not to try.”

  She nodded reluctantly. “I’ve managed to secure more of the thrice-burned amorphous ginseng, and I’ve obtained sufficient amounts of thrice-frozen awakened glacier. All that’s missing now is the Iridescent Flame Essence Fruit.”

  “I think I’ve tracked down a source,” grumbled Iridescent Wonder. “Old Ashes wants to meet him. Seems he’s been growing some in his personal garden.”

  “Ashes?” Iridescent Charity asked. “But he’s a miser! He never parts with anything in his beloved garden.”

  “If he’s offering to talk, I’m not going to say no,” Iridescent Wonder said. He eyed Cha Ming. “You might have to pay a heavy price for this one. In fact, you still owe us for the ingredients we’ve purchased. Though… if you have any more of that Grandmist lying around, I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

  “I’ll think of a way,” Cha Ming said, then yawned. “I’m sorry. I’m just physically and emotionally exhausted.”

  Iridescent Wonder eyed him. “When did you last get a good night’s sleep?”

  “Six weeks ago,” Cha Ming admitted.

  “Well, rest up before you keep going,” Iridescent Wonder said. “Work-life balance isn’t an option—it’s a necessity.”

  Elsewhere in the City of Lights, Huxian and friends were fully embracing a completely different version of work-life balance.

  “Balance is key,” Huxian explained to Bifang and Graceful Twilight. “As long a
s half our group is working, and the other half is living, we’re all right.”

  They were in the lower part of the tower city these days, exploring all sorts of things Huxian had never fully investigated. Specifically, life on the second and third floors. What made these floors different from the higher floors was that the pecking order wasn’t quite as established, making all sorts of comedic social exchanges commonplace.

  “I will not be bullied by a mere shopkeeper,” said one Phoenix clansman as they walked past. “As a second-burning phoenix, I demand a discount.”

  “Well, as one of three shopkeepers on the entire floor selling what you’re looking for, I won’t take any less,” the shopkeeper said, raising his voice.

  “You’d never see this happening in the higher floors,” Huxian said. “Or anywhere else in human lands.”

  “I don’t remember anything about this,” Bifang said, her expression growing distant.

  “It’s because they’re unsure about how they should behave,” Graceful Twilight whispered. “Besides, the situation is win-win. If the shopkeeper gives in, his status goes up. If the haggler gives in, his status goes up. Either way, they both win.” Indeed, this went on for only a minute before the matter was settled, with the buyer looking smug while paying a premium for his goods, and the shopkeeper happy to have made a good sale. There were no crowds for this exchange, despite the shouting. This was a common exchange. Everyone and their dog bragged just like them.

  “That’s another thing I’ve noticed,” Huxian said. “A distinct lack of cats.”

  Graceful Twilight hissed.

  “What? Demons keep pets too.”

  “Bifang doesn’t like cats,” Bifang said, shuddering. “Scary.”

  “Cats are the enemies of all birdkind,” Graceful Twilight agreed. “They are a pest that should be eradicated.”

  They continued their exploration, facilitated in large part by Graceful Twilight and her illusory disguises. Graceful Twilight, though knowledgeable about theoretical interactions, had lived a sheltered life on the ninth floor and wasn’t allowed to wander. She gained a protective escort, while Huxian no longer had to worry about cowing everyone in sight. As for Bifang… well, no one was calling the fire department.

  “This is life,” Huxian said. “Relaxing. Not standing out. I can see the appeal in moving to higher floors.”

  “The higher floors are all about standing out,” Graceful Twilight said.

  “But you get to act low-key,” Huxian said “This whole society is insane. Everything is reversed. It’s the lowest of the low who should get to act low-key, not the upper echelons. Tricking people on lower floors is no good because if I act low-key, people think I’m standing out. If I do the opposite, I can’t be tricky. At least on the higher floors, I could trick people and not feel out of place. If they let me up there, that is.”

  “Aren’t you strong enough?” Graceful Twilight asked.

  “I am,” Huxian admitted. “But Bifang isn’t. Besides, my brother may have upset Iridescent Torch. So while he’s free to tromp about up there with a bunch of elders babysitting him, other elders have decided it’s a good idea to pick on me.”

  “They’re big bullies,” Bifang agreed.

  “Well, while I disagree about the lower floors and upper floors. I’m bored,” Graceful Twilight confessed. I thought it would be more interesting down here, but apparently, it’s just more of the same. Except more often. Everywhere.”

  Huxian agreed. It even happened in families, through something he liked to call phoenix henpecking. First, the male phoenix would intentionally provoke the female, only to be brought down a peg. If not done often enough, the female would become passive-aggressive until the male confronted her, and the process happened all the same, thus establishing a pattern of female dominance.

  “Food, then, and then we go,” Huxian said. “Maybe we could go back to the higher floors after? You could help us get onto the ninth floor, right?”

  “I can get us in, but I can’t wander,” Graceful Twilight said. “Everyone can see me there.”

  “Your home is nice,” Bifang said. “A lot of open space, and no one tries to kill me if I burn things down.”

  “Not true,” Huxian said. “That maid almost knifed you when you went close to the main garden.”

  Graceful Twilight sighed. “I thought the lower floors would be fun. Where’s the adventure? Where’s the excitement?”

  Huxian could only nod in agreement. “Sometimes, you need to make your own fun.” An idea came to mind. “Hey, those illusions of yours. How many could you manage at once?”

  Graceful Twilight shrugged. “A few or a few dozen. Depends how complicated it is.”

  “Good, how about…” He whispered his plan into her ear.

  “That’s pure evil,” Graceful Twilight said. Then she grinned. “I like it.”

  So it was that they found themselves seated at an outside table at a local restaurant in a crowded square. Graceful Twilight looked uncertainly to Huxian, who nodded. Then, taking a deep breath, she summoned her black panes of glass and converted local light sources into a convincing illusion.

  “What in the—” someone said.

  “What’s a thing like that doing here?” another said.

  “What touched my—argh!”

  There was shrieking and horror, and shouts of “kill it!” and “Don’t let it bite you, it might be diseased.”

  Huxian chuckled as he sipped at his coffee. Deliciously black coffee to celebrate a deliciously black deed. For the crowd in front of them was chasing after a fictitious black-and-white cat, and they couldn’t catch it no matter how hard they tried. “You should make a few more. And have them run in and out of buildings. They’re barricading themselves.”

  “I can only send them where I can see them,” Graceful Twilight said.

  “How about now?” Huxian asked. He expanded his spatial senses and completely mapped out the area, including the spaces and living creatures inside the buildings. They weren’t full-colored renderings, but they didn’t have to be. He placed the rendering on the table.

  Graceful Twilight quickly adapted to the transparent projection and directed three more cat illusions, darting in and out of the crowd and into and out of shops. Chaos ensued.

  “I don’t get it,” Huxian said. “Why such a big reaction to cats?”

  “One of them scratched me!” a Phoenix clansman shouted. “Am I going to die?”

  “One of them stole my meat skewer!” another said.

  Huxian frowned. “Did your cats do that?”

  “They’re illusory,” Graceful Twilight said. “How could they eat a meat skewer?”

  Interesting, Huxian thought, scanning the crowd. Were the Phoenix clansmen turning on themselves in this moment of chaos, or was something else at play? He looked at the blurs of black and white as they ducked through legs and blinked in and out of existence. “How many did you say you were controlling?”

  “Six,” Graceful Twilight said.

  “I count seven,” Bifang said.

  “Me too,” Huxian said, his eyes narrowing. Then he saw a familiar-looking cat jumping through gray rifts instead of appearing and disappearing like the other illusions. When it appeared again, it looked back at him lazily, then darted off. “Mr. Mao Mao?”

  “Hey! A whole side of roast beast has gone missing!” a shopkeeper called out.

  “Everything shiny in my stall disappeared!” another said. “Quick, ring the bell!”

  Huxian heard a deafening clang, and suddenly, he found himself looking at a surprised black-haired girl, the very multicolored and very innocent-looking Bifang, and realized that he’d reverted to his original human form. Oh, and there was a piece of monstrous demon beast meat in front of him, as well as a pile of shiny items. Many demons were glaring at them, not all of them Phoenix clansmen.

  “One of them must have summoned illusions,” one of the shopkeepers said. “I remember him. He’s that Godbeast fox. Caus
ing trouble everywhere he goes.”

  Time to run, Huxian said, grabbing both their hands. They blinked away, leaving the angry crowd behind.

  They’ll come soon, Bifang said. What happened?

  Looks like they had an illusion-breaking bell, Huxian said. That, and we were tricked by the ultimate trickster. He scanned his surroundings and immediately found what he was looking for. A black-and-white blur was running across rooftops. It looked back, taunting him. Let’s go!

  Flicker. They appeared on the rooftops just in time to see Mr. Mao Mao teleport into a crowded street. There were gasps of fear and screams of pain.

  Flicker. They appeared in the street to see that Mr. Mao Mao had already escaped toward the central stairwell, just outside their teleportation range.

  He’s baiting us, Huxian told them, but didn’t slow. There were even more of the city watch chasing them now, so Graceful Twilight was forced to veil them and send decoys in different directions. It was a temporary measure, but Huxian was determined to find the clever cat.

  They ran up the stairs, and when the guards went to bar them off, they teleported past them, just in time to see Mr. Mao Mao heading to the next floor. He was fast—much faster than Huxian could manage even with all his abilities.

  They crossed the boundary into the fifth floor, at which point the demon bobcat slowed slightly. “Mr. Mao Mao!” Huxian called out. “Mr. Mao Mao, could you honor us with your presence?”

  Mr. Mao Mao yawned in response and headed toward the merchant quarters. He flickered and appeared in a crowded area.

  Huxian and friends followed, but that was when they noticed something strange. Everyone around them was dressed funny. “Toga party?”

  Half of those present wore brightly colored togas made of enchanted cloth. Opposite them were well-dressed men and women who looked down on the mob of angry toga wearers. They were locked in a stalemate, with equal numbers on both sides.

  “They dare look down on our fashion!” a woman called out. “They dare look down on our style!”

  “Togas aren’t real fashion, they’re the social equivalent of sweatpants,” a man called out. The man naturally wore makeup and a brightly colored suit. His counterpart wore a flowing blue toga. Gua’s and Miyue’s fan clubs shouted in support of their patrons.