Before Bai could question him further, Lady Atsuko cleared her throat. “You and her divinity have been travelling for some time, First. Won’t you refresh yourselves?”
And not unsettle our household with rumors of Colors disappearing went unsaid. Bai glanced at the other immortals who had come to greet them. They all immediately looked down.
He smiled at Lady Atsuko. “That would be pleasant. Thank you.”
JIN and Karana followed a forest path dappled in sunlight. The new leaves and needles of trees around them were just budding. In another week, this forest would be blindingly green. Bai was still at Tsuku, probably taking advantage of its natural hot springs or visiting with Lady Atsuko. He hadn’t liked that Jin had agreed to Karana’s suggestion to stretch first – his expressive brows had knit fiercely, and he had bent near to remind Jin that her enemy was still unknown.
But Jin really wanted to talk to Karana now. About everything. After all, even though she thought of Xiao as family, he didn’t really understand what it meant to be a child of the Sun Emperor, while Karana did. Also, as soon as she saw him, Jin realized how wrong she had been to keep him on the list of potential suspects. Karana had a temper and could be dangerous, but he was very direct. In fact, as soon as they were out of the Tsuku’s gate, he summarized everything that had been unfolding at the Sun Court and admitted he was supporting Salaana against Gang. “That’s why I’m here. Salaana is hoping that the Moon Deer and his people will favor her.”
“It must help her case that he’s the grandfather of Salaana’s lover.”
Karana blinked in surprise. “It does. But how did you know about Ichimi?”
“Xiao spent a month at court.”
Karana laughed and tugged the thick braid that spilled from the crown of her head. “I was very worried about you, Jin, but now I see you aren’t nearly as naive as I feared. You sent Xiao to get a lay of the land? But you’ll support Salaana over Gang, won’t you? I know you and she aren’t very close, but Gang never talks to you so...” He trailed off. “Jin, tell me what’s wrong. I thought that Bai fellow had hurt you, that’s why I was so rude to him, but now... Is it something else? I’ve never seen you this sad.”
Jin hesitated. “There’s a couple things.”
“I’m listening.”
Jin rubbed her nose. She wasn’t going to cry. “Okay. Well... we can start with Bai. You know who he is, the oldest immortal, the Scholar, the Great Warrior.”
It wasn’t a question, but she looked at Karana for confirmation, and to her surprise, he was shaking his head. “Actually, I knew he was the Great Warrior – I do remember him sparring with Gang, and I knew he was older, but – I thought Father was the oldest immortal. That’s how he became emperor, isn’t it? Is Bai really older?”
Jin nodded, feeling strangely relieved that she wasn’t the only one raised in ignorance. “Bai told me that the emperor was once a drop of his blood. That he’s the second oldest. And that, unlike Bai, he wanted more power and worshippers. Bai isn’t even a god.”
“Why do you keep saying emperor instead of ‘Papa’?”
Jin stiffened. Then, before she really considered her words, “He’s not my father.”
Karana stopped walking. “What? Is this something else that Bai told you? I don’t think–”
Jin grabbed Karana’s arm, which had started to wave wildly. “Neela told me my mother was having an affair, that both I and her unborn child were the results.”
Karana was frozen for a few breaths. “So that’s why you’re less powerful than the rest of us. Wait, is that why he killed her?” Karana’s breath hissed out between his teeth.
Jin took “her” to be Aashchary. “You knew!” Jin stepped away from him, dropping his arm.
“I didn’t know, no more than I know if he killed our mother, but Salaana has always suspected... we were both away from the palace when our mother died. He told us she committed suicide. But Father married Aashchary only a thousand years later, just before her baby was born. He seduced with the intent of marriage so...”
“So it must have been a matter of days between your mother’s death and the seduction of mine.” Jin covered her face with her hands. “So did he kill our brother too? The God of Belief?”
Karana became so quiet that she had to lower her hands to make sure that he was still there. Karana’s face was drawn tight, his mouth all but invisible. Jin belatedly remembered Neela’s accusation that Karana had murdered Aashchary’s first born.
“I am not certain why he died.”
The words rang true, but Jin was getting better listening for omissions. “But how did he die?”
Karana rubbed his lips together, before closing his eyes and exhaling slowly. “It was my fault.”
Jin stepped closer, but Karana held up a hand as his eyes flew open. “Show yourself,” he demanded to the woods at their side. An arrow of red fire formed in his hand, aimed at someone unseen.
Bai stepped out from the woods, looking more embarrassed than anything else. Karana snarled angrily and let the arrow fly.
Bai stepped aside to avoid the arrow and that would have been enough – Karana had a temper, but he wasn’t really trying to kill him – but by the time Jin realized that no intervention was necessary, she had already made the flames dissipate.
Karana was slack jawed as he stared at where his arrow had been.
“How did you do that?” he demanded – of Bai. Jin felt sweat break out on her neck. She had just told Karana that Aka wasn’t her father, but the power she had shown could only have come from him. Bai told her how serious Neela had been about keeping her parentage secret, and Jin wondered if her friendly brother would change if he knew the truth.
But Bai didn’t blink, just cocked one brow. “I think you should finish what you were saying first. How did your brother die?”
Karana’s face closed, his eyes narrowing. “I may owe Jin an explanation, but not you.”
Bai indicated the air that had swallowed the arrow. “You’re outmatched, young one.”
Jin, who had been feeling somewhat touched that Bai had followed and that he had kept her secret, suddenly felt cold inside. If Bai could call Karana “young one” in such a dismissive tone, what did he really think of her?
She stepped between the two men and met Bai’s eyes. “Please leave,” she said. “Karana is not going to hurt me. We need to speak privately – about our family.”
THERE weren’t words that could have cut Bai more deeply.
Our family.
Bai didn’t have a family. He didn’t really have anyone. His first love had chosen another man and died. His student had manipulated him to help his rival, and he had made no attempt to reach Bai in the eighteen millennia since. His friend had been missing from the world nearly that long.
Perhaps that was why he had so pathetically latched onto Jin. But he couldn’t even do that right because he was so cursed afraid that he would lose her. That another immortal would kill her because of her potential power or that she would be struck down by the dangers of the Underworld.
And yet he didn’t have to worry about either of those things if he drove her away himself.
He bowed to Jin and Karana. “My apologies.”
He spun and returned to Tsuku via the path, rather than creeping through the woods as he had come.
When the familiar cream plaster walls and dark brown roof of Tsuku finally came in sight, Bai paused. He had been here many times, and there were always long gaps between his visits.
So why did he feel so nervous now, so reluctant to enter the hall?
The first reason that came to him was the people – not the Moon Deer and his two eldest daughters, but the many others. Until Xiao, Nanami, and Jin had come to the White Mountain, he had been alone for a very long time.
He frowned. That didn’t make sense; there had been far more people in Liushi. But those were mortals. These people will still be here next time
you visit. They’ll remember what you say and do, and gossip about you to others. Soon everyone will know you fell for Jin as soon as you saw her and followed her like a puppy. Just like with Noran.
No. Not just like. This is mutual. And yet what will they think when I return alone? They all must have realized I followed her.
Jin might like him, but she wasn’t his. She was still betrothed to Xiao. She was still undertaking a dangerous quest.
Again Bai thought, She might die.
That was the reason he had avoided Jin on the Yanou, speaking to Xiao instead of her. When she disappeared in Liushi, her vulnerability was brought home to him. It was hard to reconcile his fear with his yearning for connection, his wish that she would open fully to him, the idea that he could have a family.
How was it that, after seventy-five millennia, he still had such contradictory emotions and didn’t even know what to do about them?
JIN let out a long breath as she watched Bai’s retreating back.
“How did you know he was there?” she asked Karana to delay resuming their conversation.
“His emotions. I can usually sense when people are near through them – since our discussion was sensitive, I did a quick scan.”
Jin nodded. “But we’re alone now?”
“Yes.”
Jin swallowed. Now that Bai was gone, part of her regretted not grabbing his hand to hold through Karana’s confession, but she knew her brother – uncle – well enough to know that he wouldn’t talk with a stranger there.
Slowly, she turned around to face him. “So. The God of Belief.”
Karana dragged a hand over his face, pulling his eyes closed, as if he couldn’t bear to look at Jin. Tentatively, Jin did her own scan of emotions and felt his turbulent mix of regret and guilt. The words came slowly, as if Karana was dragging them from where they’d been hidden all these years.
“Salaana and I were both very angry then. We had approached Gang with our suspicions about Mother’s death, asking him to help us overthrow and imprison Father. He was – is – much more powerful than either of us. But he refused. And then came this new baby, who seemed like he might be more powerful than Gang. Salaana said it was wrong. That it went against the natural order for such a powerful being to exist.”
At this, Jin couldn’t help but cry, “So you decided to kill him?”
“No. No. We didn’t. But what we did decide wasn’t much better.” Karana covered his eyes with one hand and rubbed them. “I hoped that I would never have to tell you this.” He cleared his throat. “There is a virus, borne by mosquitoes, that when contracted by mortals, causes a fever. Those that survive are often blind, deaf, and simple. I released infected mosquitos into the child’s room, and I used my powers to enhance the fever – otherwise, most immortals wouldn’t even be infected, never mind one as powerful as our brother was. But something went wrong almost immediately. I tried to stop it, but...”
Jin struggled to find her voice. “What do you mean something went wrong?’
Karana dropped his hand and met her eyes. “I’m not sure. I haven’t dared to experiment to figure it out. But I think – I think someone else had a similar plan to ours. Someone had given the child something, and he was already weak. So the fever killed him.” Karana drew a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry, Jin.”
Jin wrapped her arms around herself and turned her back on him. She had once heard that betrayal turns people into strangers, but Karana didn’t feel like a stranger. He felt like her brother. And he had done something really bad, and that hurt her, but – she realized slowly – not as much as it hurt him.
Even though she recognized that, it didn’t seem fair that he had escaped punishment for what amounted to the murder of a baby.
“But I was punished – not by Salaana or Father, but by Gang. He beat me so badly, I broke two ribs and an arm. And he told me never to appear in front of Aashchary again. I spent a few years in the Wood Pavilions, recovering under Haraa’s care, and then I lived all over.”
“You wandered? Like Neela?”
“Not exactly – no caravan. I did walk across Zhongtu by foot. And I lived in Po for a while and in the Hall of the Achamba. I didn’t return to the Sun Palace until you were a little over a thousand years old, just before the concubine murdered Aashchary.”
“Wait – before? But why did you go back when she was still alive?”
Karana’s brow had knit. “Gang invited me home – well, he sent some of the Sun Guard to find me. I was told he wanted an alliance, and that my sins could be forgiven. I think I arrived the night of the murder, though I didn’t learn of it until the next morning.”
“What happened then? You made your alliance?”
“No, actually. I never learned what it was about – Gang refused to talk to me. That was when he turned old.”
“What do you mean?”
“His hair lost its color overnight – went gray. People gossiped about it for a while, said that he had been in love with the concubine that Aka executed.”
But it wasn’t the concubine for whom he mourned. It had been her own mother, Aashchary. If the secret was so well kept that Karana didn’t even suspect the truth, had Aka known that his oldest son and wife had cuckolded him?
But surely he must have, unless Aashchary was sleeping with them both... Jin shuddered at the idea.
Karana slipped a tentative arm around her shoulder. “Now you know all the horrible secrets of our family. Neela worked hard to keep them from you – I was never sure if that made you worthy of envy or pity.”
Jin grimaced.
Karana was very quiet, though she could tell he was observing her closely. Finally unable to withstand his silent scrutiny any longer, she probed his thoughts. “Just ask it.”
“This conversation started with Bai. Why he’s making you sad.”
Maybe it meant she was a weak, horrible being, but she leaned against Karana’s chest, soaking up his love for her.
“I fell for him. I’ve never fallen for anyone before.”
Karana thought that over. “So you never loved Xiao.”
“Not that way.”
“Does he mind?”
“I think Bai likes me too. He cares about me, anyway.”
“Yes, that was obvious from his stalking just now, but that’s not what I was asking. Does Xiao mind?”
“Oh – no. He said we’ll find a way to break the betrothal.”
Karana tugged her braid again. “Now I definitely feel envy. You’ve found romance, and your best friend is supportive. So why are you sad?”
“Bai won’t – he has a very strong sense of right and wrong, and having an affair with a betrothed being is wrong to him. Sometimes he feels so close, and sometimes I feel like he’s unattainable.”
“Okay, well, there’s something I need to point out, but since you’ll be so excited that you won’t listen once I do, first you have to listen to a horrible story.”
Jin looked up at Karana’s face. With his makeup all smudged from his hands and his tears, she suddenly realized that he looked old. Not Neela-old, not even Gang-old, but older than her mental image of him. There were bags under his eyes and fine lines on his forehead. “Okay.”
“You saw Xiling burn. Neela brought you.”
“Yes,” Jin admitted. It had been horrific and strangely beautiful to see the deep red flames consume all the entire city. It had felt so hot, even from the distance where Jin and Neela had watched, that she had thought her face was sunburned. And underneath the crackling of fire and the periodic collapse of buildings, the air had reverberated with mortal screaming. Only a tenth of the population died – Karana had let most of the mortals escape, but some he had held, and no one had told Jin why.
“I burned Xiling for my lover.”
“Your lover?” Jin repeated in surprise. “I thought you never took any.”
“That’s what I prefer people to think. And I never take imm
ortals as lovers – it creates a false promise of forever. But I have taken mortal lovers.
“In Xiling, I loved a woman named An Ning. Her family was wealthy, but not noble. Her father wished for her to marry a nobleman’s son.
“I didn’t mind that. I loved her, but I understand what it means to love a mortal, and she wanted to please her father. I gave her my blessing. After the wedding, her husband realized she was not a virgin and was outraged by it. Zhongtuese nobility have some strange ideas about such things – I’ve often thought they’ve misunderstood the teachings of the Night God.”
Karana stopped there, and Jin knew what he had to say next was very, very bad. When Karana waned philosophical, it meant he was avoiding something.
“He had her raped. By many men.” Karana made the conscious decision to edit out the details, but they were raging in his mind, and Jin couldn’t help but hear them. She pressed her fist against her lips, trying to keep her gorge from rising.
“An Ning went mad. And she prayed to me. She asked me to destroy everything. She wanted – she wanted the world to end.
“So actually, even though some say I went overboard when I burned Xiling, I think I showed great restraint.”
He laughed, and the sound was so painful to hear that tears escaped Jin, even though Karana himself wasn’t crying.
“The point of this story, Jin, is people can be crazy for love. Not everybody maybe, but I’m afraid your swain doesn’t have the best track record. It’s said that he’s killed five thousand immortals and a hundred thousand mortals with his own hands, all in a fruitless attempt to undo the death of his first love.”
Jin suddenly thought back to The Death of the Great Warrior, and the strange way that someone had known that it would drive her away from Bai. It wasn’t the cloud riding, she realized. Someone – Neela or Gang – thought I would be horrified by all the death, all the people he’s killed. I was so caught up with the clouds that we never discussed the rest.
The Bai she knew was so deliberate, so careful, so wise-seeming that she hadn’t thought of him as a killer. And that was a mistake.
Vows of Gold and Laughter (The Immortal Beings Book 1) Page 29
