Vows of Gold and Laughter (The Immortal Beings Book 1)

by Edith Pawlicki

  They had reached the far wall, and he called forth the silver mirror. “And Bai, White.

  “We each have dominion over our own color; we also have our fundamental power. I know the essence of things. There is little that I cannot understand.” There was the slightest pause, which Jin only noticed because his speech was usually so composed and deliberate, before he added, “Cheng could counter my power, as well as Aka’s and Neela’s.”

  He turned back to her. “I think we should go find your friend, Xiao. The three of us have much to discuss.”

  Chapter 5: A Fight, a Talk, and a Song

  XIAO heard footsteps, so he was facing the mountain when Trang and Jin exited it. Trang was alert, his eyes scanning the garden, clearly seeking Xiao until they settled on him. Jin was a step or so behind Trang, her face flushed, her focus wholly on him. Or perhaps, more precisely, on his bare torso. She leaned toward him slightly, her interest in him blatant.

  Xiao clenched his jaw. He had spent the last two hours turning Trang’s home inside out, trying to find a trap door or hidden room. He had shouted himself hoarse calling for Jin, then for Trang when he had given up on her responding.

  He blinked slowly. Jin hadn’t responded to his calls, and she was with Trang? Xiao met Trang’s gaze, letting his anger show in his eyes, and waited for them to reach him.

  But Trang’s eyes shifted suddenly, to the Starlight Sword on Xiao’s back, and his neutral expression shifted into disapproval.

  “Give that to me,” he commanded.

  “You’ll have to get yourself a new fire poker,” Xiao drawled. “This sword was never meant for such.”

  One of Trang’s eyebrows cocked. “Return it, or I will take it.”

  Xiao snorted and drew the sword. “I’d like to see you try.”

  “What in the Heavens–”

  “We aren’t in the Heavens,” Xiao told Jin, pleased to be able to throw her words back at her. “We’re on Earth. And if he wants the Starlight Sword, he’ll have to take it by force.”

  Jin’s eyes narrowed and she looked more closely at the sword he had drawn. Jin wasn’t a warrior, but she would remember the Starlight Sword.

  “Jin, stand back,” Trang ordered her. Xiao scowled – as if he cared more for Jin’s safety than Xiao did.

  Xiao moved onto the balls of his feet as he spread them wide, his knees bending slightly. “Where’s your weapon?” he asked Trang.

  But instead of replying, Trang simply ran toward him. Xiao swung the Starlight Sword, but somehow Trang landed on the flat of the blade, forcing it down. Before Xiao could react, Trang hit his wrist hard. Xiao let go of the sword. Seconds later, it was in Trang’s right hand as he wiped the blade clean with a scrap of white cloth.

  “The sheath?” Trang’s voice was dry.

  Xiao fumbled at the sheath’s ties – his right hand was numb from the hit to his wrist. Silently, he proffered the sheath.

  Trang sheathed the Starlight Sword.

  “Now,” said Trang, only to pause awkwardly.

  “Now what?” asked Jin.

  “The thief who attempted to enter earlier – they’re with you?” replied Trang, seemingly out of nowhere.

  “Yes,” said Jin.

  “They are trying to enter again – I’ll let them in.”

  Nanami ran into the garden moments later. “Are – are you alright?” she asked Xiao. She touched his shoulders briefly, and was apparently reassured, for she whirled to face Trang.

  Nanami pressed her hands to her mouth, then dropped them to reveal an awed smile.

  “The Immortal Bai,” she whispered, the admiration in her voice unmistakable.

  Trang – Bai? – gave her a half-bow.

  “You know who he is?” exclaimed Jin.

  “Of course,” replied Nanami in surprise. “The First Being, the Scholar, the Great Warrior – I remember you visiting my father’s court when I was a child. I’m glad you’re still alive.”

  Bai looked at her more closely. “You’re one of Ao’s?”

  Nanami nodded.

  Bai snorted in amusement. “Then you must be the seventh. Nanami.”

  Xiao, fleeing his own embarrassment, threw out the first thing that came to mind – not that it improved the situation. “You’re supposed to be dead!”

  Bai’s eyebrow rose again, a habit that was quickly beginning to irk Xiao.

  “Why does everyone think you’re dead?” Xiao demanded.

  “Well, given that I have been living here for the past eighteen millennia, you would be better equipped to answer that than I.”

  “The Sun Emperor,” interjected Nanami. “He claimed that he gave you the key to the Underworld to protect it, and that you sacrificed your life for the cause.”

  “The cause? What, of locking away the creatures?” The disbelief in his voice was clear. “And he didn’t give me the key. I–” His gaze darted to Jin, and Xiao could see him revise what he had been about to say. “Aka and I have never seen things quite the same way.”

  “Ak–” Xiao choked on the name. “You claim to be older than the Sun Emperor?” he asked. He looked at Jin, expecting her to denounce the lie. She didn’t. Instead, the way she looked at Bai made Xiao want to break something.

  “What’s that in your hand, Jin?” Xiao asked instead.

  This gambit worked far better than his first – everyone’s attention was diverted.

  “The key to the Underworld,” Jin told him, raising it so he could see. Jin smiled at him alone, and Xiao smiled back.

  “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go,” he told her.

  To his annoyance, Jin turned to Bai, as if for permission.

  “I won’t try to take it from you, and I won’t hold you here any longer,” he said, and Jin’s smile widened.

  Jin tugged a gold chain out from her robes, revealing a peacock pendant that Xiao had never seen before, and hung the sun pendant next to it.

  When she had put it back on her neck, Xiao stepped forward to take her hand. “Well, then, I guess this is where we say farewell. Nanami – you’ll be seeing me again. Bai – hopefully not.”

  Jin elbowed him hard at those words. “Nanami, Bai – thank you. May fate smile upon you.”

  “And you,” Nanami said, her face a picture of frustration. Bai simply nodded, a faint smile on his lips that Xiao didn’t like.

  It was a little more than half an hour later when Xiao found himself facing the vermillion gate to the Underworld. It was as cold here as Bai’s garden should have been, a fierce wind howling above the snow-covered ground.

  His hand was clutching empty air. That wasn’t too strange, Jin must have beat him here. But as he looked around, Jin was nowhere to be seen. His stomach dropped, and he turned to face the vermillion gate. Had she entered without him? Xiao ran straight at it, only to pass through as if there were nothing mystical about it.

  “Jin!” he shouted for what must have been the hundredth time that day, but his cry was carried away by an angry howl of wind. Xiao fell to his knees. How could she have passed through the gate without him? After some time, he decided to teleport for help. His first thought was the Sun Palace – he tried to go to Jin’s residence, but he couldn’t. Teleporting here had exhausted his power. He growled his frustration, then tried to return to the garden, again to no avail.

  Never had he felt so useless. Never had he despised himself so much.

  A moment later, a hand fell on his shoulder.

  “Jin!” he exclaimed, whirling to face her.

  But it wasn’t Jin; it was Bai.

  “What are you doing here?” Xiao demanded angrily, forgetting that a moment ago he had intended to go to this man for help.

  “Jin thought perhaps you weren’t able to teleport back,” Bai said.

  Xiao blinked. He was so upset that it took a moment to process the words. “You know where she is? She’s in the garden? Didn’t the key work?”

  Bai
frowned without replying, and Xiao considered shaking the answers from him. Finally, “Yes, she’s in the garden. It’s impossible to teleport with Kunjee. When she realized it was missing, she returned for it.”

  Xiao let out an explosive breath. “You knew, and didn’t warn us?”

  Bai shrugged.

  “Why didn’t she come to fetch me herself?”

  “I volunteered,” Bai admitted. “She worried whether she would have enough strength to bring you back with her.”

  What exactly had Jin done in the mountain, that she was so low on power?

  Aloud, Xiao groused, “But you have plenty, even though you’ve teleported at least twice.”

  “As you say,” agreed Bai. He offered Xiao his hand. It almost killed Xiao to clasp it. As soon as he did, they moved between. It took them less than ten minutes to reappear in the garden, and Xiao didn’t feel the least bit grateful for the speed. When they arrived, Jin was just studying the key in her hand intently, apparently unconcerned that her supposed best friend had been stranded on the other side of the world.

  “Jin?” Xiao managed to keep his tone neutral.

  “Oh, good, you’re back – apparently Father protected the key to make it more difficult to steal.”

  “Mmm.” Xiao drew deep on his patience. “So what are we supposed to do?”

  “I’ll have to travel like a mortal,” Jin said. “Will you still accompany me?”

  What Xiao wanted to do was to tell her off. What he said was, “Of course.”

  “I’ll come with you as well,” Bai said.

  “What? Why?” demanded Xiao.

  “I’ve spent the last eighteen thousand years on this mountain, my main purpose to protect the key. Why would I stop protecting it now?”

  “Because it has other protectors,” asserted Xiao.

  That cursed eyebrow cocked again. “I’m not convinced of their abilities.”

  Xiao humphed. And because he didn’t like the idea of Jin having an admirer, he said, “Nanami, won’t you come too? We could use your experience in navigating the Earth.”

  Nanami’s eyes met his and narrowed.

  “You seemed eager to leave me behind just moments ago,” she pointed out.

  Xiao dimpled at her. “I wasn’t eager – I simply couldn’t think of an excuse to invite you. Now I have.”

  Nanami’s lips twitched; it was a relief to see that he could still charm someone. “I suppose I might as well travel with you until someone wants my services.”

  ONCE again Nanami found herself remembering how young Xiao was – he had a fifth of her years. Something about Bai had ticked him off and he was acting like a spoiled child who had been denied a second helping of dessert.

  Bai, who looked younger than when she had last seen him, acted oblivious to Xiao’s animosity, but Nanami was sure he was keenly aware of it. In the years he had spent at the Dragon Palace, he had discussed her habit of petty theft with her, intervened when her brother Kairoku tried to take advantage of a servant, rejected half a dozen love confessions without giving offense, and helped her sister Ichimi overcome the embarrassment of her husband’s desertion. Nanami was sure that very little escaped him, even after years of isolation.

  The tension made Nanami remember why she had chosen to be on her own – yet it wasn’t enough to drive her away. Not yet.

  She had wondered if she should leave as she waited, but she had been curious about the garden and the key and whether Jin would be successful. And if she was a little too relieved to be invited by Xiao to continue on with them – well, she was free. She had no obligations to anyone; why shouldn’t she journey to the Underworld if it suited her? She did want to see the Koch-ssi...

  Nanami’s eyes darted to Xiao, looking unfairly adorable as he pouted, and she suggested, “The fastest way to reach the Land of Winter is by water.”

  “Water?” Jin echoed. “But surely the shortest route is across northern Zhongtu.”

  Nanami shook her head. “You’ve never been in a rush before, have you? It’s true – that route is shorter, but it’s slower. With good mules and cooperative weather, it’ll take three months. But if we go down the Kuanbai by boat, and then a fast ship over the sea, we can make it in two.”

  Jin brightened. “I had no idea we could get there so quickly!”

  “There’s much to discuss. Why don’t we sit down?” Bai suggested.

  “And maybe you could feed us?” Xiao suggested dryly, “Or does a legend like you not bother with food?”

  “I would be happy to prepare something,” Bai said and led them into his hermitage.

  Nanami studied his common room with interest. It was plain with many natural elements, creating a similar atmosphere as her grandfather’s home in Tsuku, and Nanami was reminded that Bai had once been good friends with him.

  “You’ve sailed on the Kuanbai recently?” Jin asked when they were crowded around Bai’s small table.

  “Yes,” Nanami admitted. “Just ten years ago.”

  “Please tell us about it.”

  While Bai prepared a soup over the fire, Nanami found herself scrambling to recall all she could about the Kuanbai River and its boat culture.

  The Kuanbai River was fed by several mountain springs, including the one they had just left, and became suitable for boating near the foot of the White Mountain. It wound its way through the Great Ladies mountain range, supporting several villages and serving as a common pilgrim’s route because mountains were the closest mortals could come to the Heavens. The Great Ladies were the tallest in the world, and the White Mountain was first among them. That section of the river was full of small flat-bottomed boats, carrying goods, news, and pilgrims from village to village.

  “The villages here are isolated, and they are very fond of their traders. It’s an insular group though – downriver traders can’t break in easily. The traders know as many generations of their family as the Bandoan royal family,” Nanami noted with amusement. “If you ask their name, prepare to wait as they recite their entire lineage.”

  “So we’ll pay for passage with a family then?”

  “Yes,” Nanami agreed, “and we’ll have to pay extra so that they don’t dawdle in every village along the way – I knew a trader who spent six months just getting to the foothills of the Ladies.”

  As the river left the Great Ladies behind, it quadrupled its width and served as the border between Jeevanti and Zhongtu, supporting some of the finest farmland in both countries. Men frequently looked with avarice upon the other side, resulting in frequent trade of the territories, and now the locals identified more as Kuanbaians than nationals of a country. Nanami loved travelling the Kuanbai in this region. The foods of Zhongtu and Jeevanti fused here to create such local specialties as crispy mango duck and curried noodles -

  “Yes, I know,” interrupted Jin with a smile. “My grandmother bloomed on the Jeevanti side of the river, and we lived there several times during my childhood. For all my familiarity with the area though, I know little about the traders. Grandma had no time for boats because she couldn’t fit her caravan on them.”

  So Nanami described the larger flat-bottom boats on the lower Kuanbai, which often doubled as traders’ homes.

  “The living quarters aren’t all that different from a caravan’s,” said Nanami. “Families all sleep on top of one another, although if you have the money to spend, some riverfolk specialize in passengers, and have quarters designated for them. They’re still small though.”

  Jin smiled. “That won’t bother me – and it certainly won’t bother Xiao. He often shares a bed with four others voluntarily.”

  “I know,” sighed Nanami before she caught herself.

  “Hey, what’s wrong with that?” Xiao demanded.

  Just then, Bai set a steaming pot on the table. Nanami found his face suspiciously blank and wondered if they had embarrassed the famously chaste immortal.

  As Bai set four bowls ar
ound the table, Xiao demanded, “Don’t you wear a shirt to eat?”

  Bai blinked, and touched his chest as if surprised to find it bare. “Excuse me,” he said, his pale face turning quite red. “I’m not used to having guests.”

  Jin touched his arm reassuringly. “Not at all. We’re sorry to discommode you.”

  “We all know that’s how you feel,” muttered Xiao, only to wince a moment later. Nanami thought Jin kicked him under the table.

  “Not at all,” Bai said, ignoring Xiao. He went through a doorway at the back of the room and Jin’s eyes followed him.

  Oh, dear, thought Nanami. She obviously doesn’t know that Bai has spent the last fifty millennia pining over Noran.

  Jin turned quickly to Nanami. “You mentioned payment a few times – what will they want?”

  Nanami began outlying the various requests traders usually made of immortals, but Xiao cut her off.

  “We should disguise ourselves as mortals.”

  Nanami frowned. “Why?”

  Jin and Xiao looked at each other.

  “We had better tell them,” Jin suggested.

  “Gang told us not to,” Xiao ground out.

  “But it could be dangerous...”

  Feeling this was for them to hash out, Nanami tried her soup – it turned out to be miso and was extremely tasty. Did he grow and ferment his own beans? She supposed he must.

  Bai returned as Jin and Xiao finished their ambiguous argument, and Jin won. Nanami was beginning to feel a little bothered by how often Xiao gave in to her – not that it was her business.

  Once Bai was seated, Jin announced, “My father is under a death curse. That means at least one of my siblings is against us. Not Gang, though.”

  “Oh,” said Nanami, feeling a little light-headed. “I’m so relieved we don’t have to worry about the Sun Guards hunting us down – just the Light Hands and their flaming swords.”

  “I know Gang,” said Bai, “but who are your other siblings?”

  “There’s Salaana, Goddess of Justice, and Karana, God of Destruction,” said Nanami.