Way of the Immortals

by Harmon Cooper

  “Birds can’t drink tea?” Roger asked.

  “I will get one for you,” I said, ignoring Lhandon’s plea for me to stay seated so he could look after his guests. I brought Roger a small saucer of tea, and the bird dipped his beak in, satisfied.

  “I destroyed all of their lotus,” I told Lhandon after we were all settled.

  The portly monk set his teacup down. “You destroyed it?”

  “I met Madame Mabel. Their plan, invented by the guy from my world that betrayed me, was to start introducing lotus to the city of Bamda.”

  “Bamda?” A worried look came across Lhandon’s face. “That’s my hometown. And what do you mean by introduce?”

  “It’s something that has happened in my world before,” I explained. “A country introduces a narcotic to another country to take hold of their population by getting them hooked, which can cause economic turmoil, leaving the first country in a better bargaining position.”

  “That’s quite devious.”

  I nodded. “The first country also controls the supply of narcotics. When people don’t get their drugs, other issues arise, and when they’re all high, that’s yet another problem that a government would have to deal with. While it’s easy to arrest one person who is drugged out of their mind, to arrest everyone…”

  “And then you swoop in and take the city for yourself, right?” Lhandon asked.

  “Exactly.”

  “So after she said this, you attacked the fields.”

  “Not exactly,” I said, telling him how I first destroyed the shipment that Mabel wanted me to guard, making my way to the fields when I went for Altan. About the only thing I failed to mention was the strange energy hovering over Madame Mabel’s shoulders over dinner. I still wanted a little time to process that.

  “This is very bad,” Lhandon mumbled. “But it was also a very noble thing for you to do. How long do you think until they get here?”

  “It will be at least three days,” Roger said, his eyes suddenly droopy. He yawned. “The way that Madame Mabel’s soldiers move, I estimate three days, possibly even longer.”

  “Three days,” I translated.

  “Then you will need to leave after two days,” Lhandon told Altan and me. “Perhaps you can go to the mountains and hide.”

  “I can’t leave you here, not if Sona is coming,” I told Lhandon.

  “She will kill you,” Altan added. “She’s the type that leaves no stone unturned.”

  “Maybe we can all go to the mountains,” I suggested. “Or… we stay here and fight.”

  “Stay here and fight?” Lhandon asked.

  I nodded. “Who can we get to help us between now and then? I could call for Saruul; I think I need to get to a slightly higher altitude for that power to work, but I could do it tomorrow. She could bring some of her people…”

  “We can’t turn the monastery into a battleground,” Lhandon said, shaking his head. “This is a place of worship.”

  “It may be our only option. Who else could we get? What about the hermit, Baatar? Who was the other one you know for sure is up there?”

  “Thupten, and I don’t believe they can help us, or if they can come I don’t believe they will.”

  “We have an advantage here,” I reminded them. “The only way to get to the monastery is to go up the steps, that is unless you come around the back way, and they would have to go all the way around the cluster of mountains to do that. It would take…”

  “At least a week,” Roger said, “and that would be if they could even find their way. Plus there are many obstacles along those trails.”

  “What do we have here at the monastery that could help defend us? I know you still have that spirit that you bottled. Are there other things like that?” I asked Lhandon.

  “This seems like such a hasty idea…”

  “There has to be something that we can do. We can’t let them just run through the place and destroy it searching for me. That’s what they’ll do.”

  Altan nodded in agreement. “That’s generally how they operate.”

  “Either way, the monastery gets attacked.”

  Lhandon massaged his temples “I need time to meditate on this, and all of us could use some rest. Let’s reconvene in six hours. No, seven hours. I will have breakfast made. When the bell rings, please come down.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Underground Knowledge

  No dreams; too tired.

  I simply awoke the next morning when I heard a bell, its echo ringing through the hallways.

  I slept in the same room that I’d slept in during my first night at the monastery, and as I made my way down the hallway, I noticed just how empty the place felt.

  There was something depressing about it; all the monks had given life to the monastery, and their absent energies were a smog of silence.

  I met Altan at the stairs, the former slave now in a fresh pair of monk’s robes.

  “How do you feel?” we both asked each other at the same time.

  “You first,” he told me.

  “Rested, better. You?”

  “I feel as if I’m home.”

  “You are,” I reminded Altan.

  He chuckled. “It’s as if the last fifty years of my life have been a single day, and that day has passed, and here I am.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” I told him as the breakfast bell rang again.

  We met Lhandon in the kitchen, the heavyset monk wearing an apron over his robe. “I hope you enjoy what I made for breakfast today,” he said, bringing plates over to the small kitchen table.

  “Let’s eat in the main room,” I said. “The place is yours now; let’s enjoy it.”

  He looked at me apprehensively for a moment. “About that…”

  “It’ll be nice. Come on.”

  The three of us moved through the kitchen to the main dining area. A window was open at the back of the room, and Roger flew in and landed on the table.

  “I suppose we shouldn’t eat eggs in front of you,” Lhandon started to say.

  “Eat what you want,” Roger told me. “I’ve already had my breakfast.”

  “He doesn’t mind,” I said as we all took our seats.

  Each of our plates had potatoes piled on them, fresh greens and eggs too.

  Lhandon sat across from Altan and me, a troubled look on his face. “I forgot to make something to drink,” he started to say.

  “I’ll make something quickly,” Altan offered. “I’m very good with tea.”

  The former slave left the room before Lhandon could protest.

  “He’s your student now,” I reminded him, “regardless of the fact he’s older than you. Get used to him wanting to wait on you. Besides, you deserve it.”

  “You are too confident in my abilities,” he said, a frown still on his face.

  “There’s something else going on, isn’t there? What else is bothering you aside from the fact that I’ve put the monastery in danger?” I asked him as I cut into my eggs. “Sorry about that last part, by the way.”

  “We’ll get to that part later, after breakfast.”

  “Then what is it?”

  He cleared his throat. “We have a very extensive library below the main prayer room, one that the treasure hunters didn’t know about. There are two, actually, one adjacent to the dining room here, which is mostly there for show, and the one below.”

  “So you have more texts, right? I don’t see a problem here. That sounds like a good thing, to be honest with you.”

  “It would be if there wasn’t a spell cast on the door to the underground library which prevents anyone but the head monk from entering.”

  “You are the head monk,” I reminded him. “I know you’re still coming to realize this, but it’s you, Lhandon, you’re the Exalted One.”

  “But what if it doesn’t open?” he asked, his pupils quivering as he looked at me. “What if I’m not allowed access? I would never be legitimate…”

  “You worry too much,”
I told him as I went for one of the potatoes. “If we can’t get in the traditional way, we will blow the floor out or something, and come in from the top.”

  “I can only imagine you punching the floor until it breaks open,” Roger said as he hopped around on the table. “And tell the monk to lighten up. We’ll get in there if he doesn’t have access.”

  “Hey, punching a hole could work,” I told the bird.

  “You always were a clever thinker, weren’t you?” Lhandon said, a fond smile on his face.

  “Me or Roger?”

  “You and I suppose Roger, but I don’t understand him, so it’s hard for me to judge how clever he is.”

  “Trust me, I’m clever,” Roger chirped.

  “Point is: if we can’t get in through the door, we’ll find another way,” I told Lhandon. “What’s in this underground library anyway? I mean, is it really as ominous as it sounds?”

  He considered this for a moment as he started to work on his plate. “There are texts down there that would greatly aid anyone trying to better understand the Way of the Immortals. And not only the Path of the Divine, other paths as well. There is also a collection of powerful runic spells that the Exonerated One has collected over the years.”

  “Too bad I can’t read it.”

  “Yes, that is too bad, but there are other things that will be helpful to us down there. The possibilities are endless, truly.”

  “Then I look forward to our trip to the library,” I said, and I would have raised my glass to him, but Altan hadn’t brought any tea in yet.

  Eventually, he returned with tea and the three of us ate breakfast together, Roger letting me know that he was going to go out for another patrol.

  After cleaning up breakfast together, Altan and I followed Lhandon down the hallway that circled around to the main prayer space, where we stopped in front of a statue of a golden monk.

  “Here we go.” Lhandon placed his hand on one of the stone flowers situated in front of the golden monk. He twisted the flower twice to the right, and then one full rotation to the left.

  A door slid open to reveal a curved stairwell of dusty steps.

  His fingers illuminating the way, Lhandon led us down, where we eventually came to an enormous metal door without a handle.

  The door started to slide open as soon as Lhandon paused in front of it. The monk immediately bowed his head and said a soft prayer.

  “See? You had nothing to worry about all along,” I told him.

  “How wonderful,” Altan whispered once the sliding door came to a stop.

  I was expecting something cavernous, with low ceilings and a musky scent in the air.

  Instead, I was greeted by an absolutely enormous room, easily as tall as the prayer room above, which had natural light coming in through stained glass windows between slats at the top of the ceiling.

  A hanging chandelier flared up, adding more light to the space and revealing countless scrolls and books as well as long wooden tables and an immaculately carved easel to practice calligraphy.

  “It is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before,” Altan said, his eyes reflecting the chandelier above.

  “I’ve only been down in this library a few times in my thirty years here, and only with the Exonerated One,” Lhandon explained. “I don’t even know where I should begin.”

  “You could be down here for the next decade,” I told him, “and still find something to read.”

  “Very true,” he said as he stepped a few paces ahead and turned to us. “Okay, my decision is made. Please give me about an hour to look through and arrange some of the scrolls that are already out. Afterward, I would like you to meet me in the classroom above,” he told me. “I plan to teach you a new rune today, possibly two depending on what I discover here. Then you’ll need to go and ring the Hermit Bell.”

  “Hermit Bell?”

  “I will explain then. Altan, it’s time that you start to better understand the Path. I will find you a text to study over the next hour, but while I’m doing that, I would like you to start taking some of the boards out of a storage room at the back of the monastery. We’re going to have to put them over the windows at the front, and arrange a few other things to protect against the inevitable.”

  “So you’ve decided we’re making a stand?” I asked.

  “Yes, I suppose I have,” Lhandon said, a hint of leadership in his voice that I’d never heard from him before.

  “Will do,” Altan said, a proud look on his face. “I’ll also take a look around to see if there’s anything else that we can shore up.”

  “Excellent. As calm as it seems right now, they’re still coming, and they will eventually get here. We have to be ready.”

  “I’ll help Altan,” I said.

  “Good, then I’ll see you in an hour, Nick.”

  I entered the classroom to find Lhandon sitting at the table, a troubled look on his face. There was an old book resting before him, and a piece of parchment for him to write on.

  “Something the matter?” I asked him as I wiped some of the sweat off my brow. Moving all the wood with Altan had been harder than I thought it would be.

  “I should have known,” Lhandon said, stroking his chin.

  “Should have known what?”

  “Of course he would predict his reincarnation, and…” Lhandon swallowed hard. “While the Exonerated One may have had some complications when it comes to karmic exploitation, and perhaps some of the things he did were unorthodox, he’d been practicing all along to return to the Middle Plane, to continue to spread the Way of the Immortals, which is, in itself, a truly pious karmic boon.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “The Exonerated One will not be reborn in the Overworld. The founding of this monastery alone is enough for him to avoid the Underworld.”

  “So, he’s coming back here?”

  “I will have to seek out his reincarnation,” he said, pointing at the parchment before him. “He left instructions on the locations where he may reincarnate, and there could be other complications as well. How much do you know about reincarnation?”

  “I believe you’ve asked me that before,” I said as I took a seat in front of him. “We have a similar notion in my world.”

  “Every now and then someone splits into two forms when they reincarnate, the mind and the soul. I don’t know if the Exonerated One will split; there’s really no telling at this point, but it’s something I will have to consider, and it will make searching for him more arduous. Anyway, once things smooth out here, it is my duty to seek him out. You may join me if you’d like.”

  “Will he be here in Lhasa?” I asked.

  “Perhaps, although he has also mentioned one of the island kingdoms as a possible rebirth location. Let’s hope it’s not there.”

  “One of the island kingdoms?”

  “The Island Kingdom of Jonang, to be exact. He often spoke of this place. He visited the place with his father several times in his youth.”

  “What happens after that?”

  “Do you mean after we find him?”

  I nodded as I took a seat in front of Lhandon.

  “After we find him, it’s my job to teach him the Way of the Immortals, even though he will already have some knowledge of it. Depending on which reincarnation we find, he’ll still be a child. This means I’ll still be the leader of this monastery. But he should develop rapidly here, to the point that I wouldn’t be surprised if he founds his own monastery at an early age.”

  “So he won’t kick you out of here?”

  Lhandon laughed. “No, that would be bad karma. Whenever a student finds his reincarnated master, the student retains what he has already taken in, training the master, and inevitably the student dies and the new master then finds the student, and it goes on and on like this. Often times there are issues that arise, from accidental rebirths to a desire to no longer take the monastic path. But we can cross that bridge later.”

  “Okay, well, I owe
you one. And regardless, I’d be happy to join you on your quest.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that.” Lhandon smiled as he took a deep breath in. “I’ll teach you two runes today, as I said earlier. Afterward, you will need to make the journey to ring the Hermit Bell, which should call any hermits in the area to our aid. It will take you about a day to go there and come back. It’s a steep climb; otherwise, I would come with you.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “There is another thing that would be helpful for you to get while you’re out.” Lhandon set a small glass jar on his desk. “But you need to learn the Rune of Inquiry first.”

  “Isn’t that the one that you cast on the spirit back in the cave?”

  “It is, and casting it around any type of spirit will put you in a situation similar to what we already experienced. If the spirit answers your question incorrectly, the spirit is yours.”

  “And you can transfer this to me without losing the power yourself?”

  Lhandon nodded. “Now that I have taken the mantle of head monk, as proven by the fact that I was able to access this library, I can now transmit powers without losing them. This one would be very helpful to you, I believe.”

  A thought came to me. I almost didn’t ask it, but Lhandon paused, waiting for me to speak. “Would it work against someone from a different world? Like a dakini?”

  “I’ve never met a dakini, but I suppose it could do something. I would need to check some of the books in the library, however, to see if this has ever been attempted before.”

  I looked down in front of me at the piece of parchment, and the quill sticking out of a small container of ink. By the time I glanced up Lhandon was standing, holding a paintbrush in his hand and focused on a piece of paper that had been stretched across the wall behind him.

  “You already know Lha,” he began, tracing the character.

  “Yes, it looks like a television with a stick hanging off it and two slash marks.”

  “I don’t know what that means, but it appears as if you know what you’re talking about. So sure, whatever helps. We won’t go too deep into characters used in the ancient languages today, but you should at least understand subscripts and superscripts. You have already learned two runic spells, the first one being Healing Hand.”