“Mommy! I need Mommy!”
“We’ll find her,” Jin promised. “May I pick you up to help you look?”
And then her face had been covered with an oil-soaked cloth that reeked of spoiled peaches.
Whoever planned this knew her well – better than Salaana or Karana. As much as it hurt to contemplate, Neela seemed to be the most likely choice. But Neela knew that Bai was with her – the trap would never have succeeded if he had exited the theatre as well! Could Neela have realized that the play would cause a falling out? Because of the stupid clouds?
Jin shook her head. She felt paranoid and foolish.
She needed to get out of here. She could summon Neela, but if her grandmother was her captor... Well, so if she is, no harm done, and if she isn’t, she will help me.
Jin focused – she felt Neela, she was sure her grandmother could feel her call. Jin waited five minutes, then ten, but still Neela did not appear.
Maybe she is detained herself, Jin rationalized, but she didn’t believe it.
Jin belatedly recalled Gang’s pledge to help her. If he really is my father...
But something was bothering her.
Gang had access to godsbane. Neela had access to godsbane. Was there anyone else who could get it? If not...
“What does it mean if Gang is my father?” she asked the darkness around her.
It means he hired Nanami.
“That’s right – he must have hired Nanami. But that does not mean he wished me ill. Really, it was a nice thing to do for me. And he swore to protect me. If he hurt me, he’d lose his immortality. So why shouldn’t I summon him?”
Jin imagined Xiao saying, “His protecting you may not look the way you want it to. What if he wants to lock you in a box so you aren’t in danger? What if he wants to protect you from your quest?”
Yes, yes, that was it.
This dark hole was rather like a box. If she’d really been poisoned with godsbane – not once, but twice – then was Gang trying to trap her somewhere until Aka died? But why send her on the quest in the first place?
Because he has secrets. He doesn’t want me to know he stopped me.
Jin couldn’t be certain of her suspicions, but she really had no relationship with Gang. She couldn’t bring herself to trust him.
The only person she fully trusted right now was Xiao.
Jin rubbed the pad of her left pinky. Over three thousand years ago, she and Xiao had made a blood oath – stabbed their pinkies, twisted them together, and promised to always be there if the other needed them. Xiao had suggested it – he had pretended it was a lark, but Jin knew his thoughts had been dark and his feelings bitter. Yet, he had never used it and neither had she. She had never had any need of it before now.
Xiao – Xiao, if you can hear me...
Her connection to him was much weaker than hers to Neela – she couldn’t even tell if she had succeeded. Jin stared at her manacles for a moment, still rubbing the small scar on her pinky.
Freedom is beautiful. My blood will free me – I have mastery over blood on both sides. She felt a little ridiculous as she tried to convince herself, but the more she thought about it, the more confidence she gained. Though it was awkward with her arms bound, Jin managed to remove her hairpin – her hair tumbled down in a tangle, and she mused, Perhaps I should make short hair beautiful.
Taking a deep breath, she pricked her finger and squeezed until the blood welled up.
You will free me, she told it, forced it to her will.
And though she couldn’t easily see, Jin felt the blood changing in her hand. A key was there – it felt heavy and smooth, made of an unfamiliar metal. She fumbled at her manacles, but the key slid smoothly into the lock. Jin heard an audible click and her left manacle fell open. She wasted no time dealing with the right.
Giddy with success, she tried to stand, only to find she nearly fell over with dizziness. She felt the same as when she had collapsed in the market town, and Jin suddenly felt very angry. How dare someone poison her this way!
Her anger gave her strength and she pushed to standing, using the stone wall at her back as support. Slipping the key into her belt, she felt her way around the dark prison. She practically tripped over a wooden ladder that was affixed to the floor. She climbed it until her head pressed against the ceiling. She found a trap door with her hands, but it would not open. It must be locked or blocked from the other side.
Jin folded her hands on the top bar of the ladder and rested her head against it. She could call for help – but surely if anyone was on the other side, they were her enemy.
Several minutes passed with no additional ideas. So she yelled – but there was no response.
Jin went back down the ladder to further explore the room.
She estimated that it was only about six feet by six feet – she found no obvious escape in the walls and turned to the floor, brushing aside the scratchy straw to uncover the stone beneath. She was still at this task, when she suddenly felt as though someone had entered the room with her. Jin froze – then came Xiao’s voice. “Jin? Are you here?”
NANAMI took a step in the dark only to leap back when she felt something soft beneath the cloth sole of her shoe.
“Ouch! Yes, that’s my hand,” came Jin’s voice.
“Sorry,” Nanami said sheepishly.
“Nanami?” asked Jin. “Did you come, too? Thank you!”
“Don’t I get thanked?” groused Xiao.
Jin’s laugh chimed. Nanami could hear her rise to her feet – then her eyes adjusted, and she could make out the pale smudge of Jin’s face in the gloom.
“Thank you, Xiao. I wasn’t sure if my summoning worked.”
“What happened? Why are you here? Where’s Bai?”
“I was drugged with godsbane, I don’t know, and I don’t know.”
“What?” Nanami could hear the anger in Xiao’s voice. “He abandoned you – or planned this?”
“No, no,” Jin hastily reassured him. “We fought, and I went off on my own – look, I was foolish and I’ll explain, but do you think we can get out of here first?”
Nanami looked around. “You said you were drugged – do you know by who? Or where we are?”
“Not sure. A basement of some sort – there’s a trapdoor in the ceiling, but I couldn’t open it. The lock is on the outside.”
Nanami paused at that. “You speak as if you could open it if the lock were on the inside.”
“Yes, I’ve got a key.”
“Then I’ll pop out and unlock it – unless there is other danger?”
“I don’t know,” Jin confessed. “I haven’t heard anything, and no one responded to my shouts, but...”
“There might be someone, and they have godsbane.” Nanami paused. “What is godsbane?”
“It’s an herb that is poisonous to immortals.” Jin hesitated. “I thought the only people who could access it were Gang, Neela, and Aka.”
Godsbane must be the poison about which Nanami’s father had told her. “Well, doesn’t that fill me with confidence,” Nanami said.
“My money’s on Gang,” said Xiao.
“You didn’t see Neela a week ago,” was Jin’s reply.
Nanami briefly closed her eyes. She could teleport away from here, and her only problem would be a lost hand.
But that sounded... lonely.
“I still think it makes sense for me to go – I can teleport away immediately if there are guards. But I won’t be back for a few hours, maybe a day, if I do.”
Xiao’s hand touched her arm and squeezed. “I say try it. I will follow you if you don’t come back.”
“No,” said Nanami, maybe just because he offered, “you should stay with Jin. If I can’t come back... Jin, do you know how I can find Bai?”
Nanami could hear her fiddling with her skirt. “He said he’d wait for me at the Great Willow – but I don’t know how long ago that was, or
if he’ll still be there.”
“Well, I’ll start there if I must.”
Jin gave her the key, and Nanami almost dropped it. It was unlike anything she had ever touched. It was metal, but it felt... damp.
Nanami moved between.
She reappeared in a dilapidated hut. She neither saw nor heard anyone. She didn’t see a trapdoor in the floor but moving some of the debris in the interior revealed it. Completely out of place was a shiny brass lock keeping the door shut.
Nanami took Jin’s key out of her pocket and cursed. She should have asked Jin where she got the key. This one – red with an odd gold-blue sheen – clearly did not match this lock.
“Jin? Xiao?” Nanami yelled.
“Yes, we can hear you!” Jin’s voice was muffled, but clear.
“Jin, this isn’t the right key!” Nanami told her. “I’ll try to pick the lock.”
“Did you try it? It should work.”
Nanami slid the key in and found it did indeed fit the lock smoothly. A quick twist and the tumblers moved easily.
Jin, with Xiao at her heels, crawled out of the basement moments later.
“This key... it’s magic?” Nanami asked, examining it more closely.
“I suppose – I made it.”
“From what?”
“My blood.”
Nanami dropped the key. “What! Your blood!”
Jin was unperturbed by Nanami’s reaction – she just bent over and picked up the key. “Yes, well, I couldn’t see the color of anything else in there, and I knew my blood was red.” She held up the key as if curious to see what it looked like and Nanami realized that she must be seeing it for the first time.
“What are you talking about?” Xiao reached for the key as well – he stopped just short of touching it. “Since when can you create anything?” There was something almost hurt in his tone – Nanami thought of the long hours he had wasted trying to change a flower petal to silk.
“Since Bai’s been teaching me. I’ve been working on shaping different colors. You should be able to as well, Xiao.” Nanami almost wished Jin would be smug about it. Her sincere excitement made Nanami wince. Of course, she had no way of knowing how Xiao had spent the last week and a half. “You ought to be able to shape anything violet or black. Just as Nanami can shape water because of her father.”
Xiao’s brows were drawn, his eyes narrowed. “Well,” he said tightly, “you shouldn’t leave things made from your blood lying around. People could use it against you.”
Jin tucked the key back into her pocket, and Nanami was distracted briefly from Xiao’s frustration. That key could open any lock. And Jin could make a new one easily enough. Perhaps she should...
“Shall we find Bai?” Jin asked, interrupting Nanami’s half-formed idea.
“I suppose,” grumbled Xiao, “but you’d better catch us up on what we’ve missed.”
Jin smiled. “If you’ll do the same.”
DAWN washed across the sky, painting gold clouds on a blue canvas, as Bai leaned against the fence ringing the Great Willow. Below, the city of Liushi’s entertainment district woke sluggishly, reluctantly, in the form of street sleepers who rose and cringed from the morning light. One of these, a drunk who Bai had watched vomit last night, tripped and fell into him. Bai caught the man by the arms without conscious thought and set him upright again.
“Thanks,” the man said before leaning close and peering at Bai’s face.
Bai jerked back from the harsh fumes of cheap alcohol and the acrid stench of old vomit.
“Weren’t you standing here last night?” the man asked. “I’m for breakfast. Care to join me?”
Bai shook his head and pushed the man away. He needed to wait for Jin – but then, shouldn’t he be honest with himself? How long should he wait for someone who might not be coming?
Eager to escape Liushi, but not yet willing to abandon his post, Bai pushed off the cobbled street and landed neatly on the inside of the fence. One more leap brought him high into the Great Willow where the dense white branches and the silver leaves partially obscured him to passersby. If it weren’t for his black hair he’d be well-hidden. Bai loosened it from its topknot and attempted to undo whatever Jin had done to darken his aspect. However, though sweat beaded on his forehead, the strands of hair remained too long and too dark. Finally he threw them back in impatience over his shoulder.
Could Jin really have abandoned him because he refused to summon a cloud? He had felt as if he had known her during those lazy afternoons on the Kuanbai River when she sat at his side listening to his stories with shining eyes. But he now realized that he had talked more than listened. Was his analysis of her character just a manifestation of his loneliness and long-suppressed hopes? It would seem she was fickle and impulsive, and he had not thought that of her.
And why did it hurt so much? Had he really opened his heart to her over the past month?
Yes, he had a little bit. He pressed his hands against the bark of the Great Willow, trying to let the rough ridges pull him to the present moment.
Instead, they reminded him of a time long ago, a time when he was just as lonely as he was now, though then he didn’t have the words to describe this feeling. After Aka had left him and before he had met any other beings, Bai had cultivated this tree. He had told himself it was in the name of enlightenment, but part of him had known that he was really looking for companionship.
I wonder if Jin would feel the same as Cheng. An unknowable pocket hiding in the world. He thought again how he seemed to fall and drown in Jin’s essence when he first saw her.
She won’t be far from here, he reasoned. She won’t have teleported away. Fear – or was it hope? – niggled at him, that perhaps someone else had teleported her, but he quashed it. Jin had overpowered Neela. There wasn’t a being in this world with more innate magic than Jin.
And when you find her, whispered an insidious voice, what will you do? Follow her from the shadows like a dog that doesn’t know it’s been abandoned?
I will force her to say a proper good-bye, he told himself, and though the thought made him tremble, he sent his power coursing through the tree, seeking the essence of everything.
First there was Liushi, huge and rambling, full of mortal life but oddly devoid of plants and animals. It would be a burden on the environment, he saw, a ravenous creation that would control its creators, demanding ever more resources to sustain it. He felt nothing unknowable in its limits.
His power flowed above the sea, finding gulls and terns, and several fishing vessels but no Jin. He let his power rush ever further, but his reach was exhausted before he found her. Worry clenched his gut – had she been threatened? In danger?
He sent his power along the sides of the Kuanbai, and he found something familiar – Xiao. With him was Nanami, and... something unknowable. Something that swirled with red, orange, yellow, and blue, yet defied his categorization.
Bai wrenched his hands away from the tree, cutting himself off from the world. He swayed slightly at the sudden loss, then folded his hands together.
This possibility had not occurred to him. Had she summoned Xiao and changed her plans? He wanted to simply teleport there and ask, and yet... the idea of demanding she make a proper farewell in front of her betrothed chafed at Bai’s pride. How Xiao would smirk! And would they repeat it to their friends, much as Noran had, that Jin had enthralled the First in just a month? A little slip of a thing that was not even five thousand years old?
He felt pathetic and embarrassed. And yet, what should he do – return to the White Mountain too cowardly to show his face? He straightened his spine and leapt from the tree, teleporting as he did so.
He saw the three companions before they saw him. Jin was a mess for the first time since he’d met her, her face dirty and smudged and her hair tangled about her shoulders.
“... find him?” Jin was asking.
“Do we really need to?” X
iao replied. “We’ll accompany you to the Korikami’s Tomb.”
Jin shook her head. “No! I was angry and harsh. If we don’t find him – he’ll think–” Jin twisted her fingers unhappily. “Besides, you need to learn to use your powers, Xiao. If civil war is truly brewing...” She looked up then, and her eyes met Bai’s. For a moment she froze, her golden eyes gleaming with happiness, a smile curving those plum blossom lips, and, without any magic on her part, Bai suddenly thought she was even more beautiful than he had realized.
Then her face closed, and Bai knew that she was still hurt by him – that his lack of trust had wounded her deeply.
“Why did you come?” The question sounded like an accusation. If Bai hadn’t heard her worrying about him just moments ago and seen her smile, that challenge would have cut deep.
“It’s my hair,” he said, hoping he managed to sound above it all. “I’ve been trying to change it back, but I can’t.”
Jin’s mouth worked soundlessly, then she glided toward him. One delicate hand stretched out, just faintly brushing his hair. He couldn’t see it, but it must have been shorter as it suddenly weighed less. “There,” she said curtly. She met his eyes. “And your eyes,” she said, her hand drifting toward his temple. He caught it in his, and she went very still.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I came because I was worried and because I couldn’t leave things there. Please tell me you’ll forgive me.”
Her expressive face changed from hope to hurt to uncertainty all too quickly. “I haven’t forgiven you,” she whispered back. “But I... if–”
“What are you two whispering about?” demanded Xiao, slinging an arm around Jin’s shoulders and looking at Bai narrow-eyed.
Nanami elbowed him and Xiao let his arm drop, but Bai barely noticed. “What happened to your hand?” he demanded.
Nanami flushed and held her stump close to her body. “Salaana destroyed it.”
JIN forced herself to stop staring at the end of Nanami’s sleeve. How had she not noticed that Nanami’s hand was gone? It was the first thing Bai saw.
And it was her fault. She had suggested that Nanami become a disciple of Salaana. Xiao had even warned them that Salaana would take Nanami’s hand, but Jin had ignored his concern.
Vows of Gold and Laughter (The Immortal Beings Book 1) Page 25
