But Cheng wasn’t his only concern, so he turned to his friend. “We didn’t come because of Cheng, for I had no idea he was buried near Tsuku. I wanted to show Jin the scrolls I left with you on the immortal creatures.”
The Moon Deer met his eyes. “I’m sorry, they are locked away so that they cannot be examined until the Gate to the Underworld is opened, and the creatures can return to this world. Even I can’t open them. Perhaps you could break my magic, but not without destroying a great deal of the collection.”
Bai sighed. “I see the wisdom in your choice, but it makes things rather inconvenient for us. We are going to the Underworld.”
The Moon Deer’s already big eyes opened even wider. “Truly? Then you do have the key? But why now?”
Bai looked at Jin and took her hand, pulling her closer to his side. “Those questions are for Jin, not me,” he said.
NOT even the excitement of the morning could stop the Moon Deer from his midday nap, and so after about an hour, Jin and Bai left his suite. Jin slid the door closed behind her and looked to Bai. “What now?”
He looked briefly solemn before smilingly lightly. “Lunch, of course.”
Jin’s own lips quirked up in response. “You know that’s not what I meant.”
“I know, but both of us will think better with some food.”
His hand once again enveloped hers, warm and strong. It was as if now that he had decided to touch her he couldn’t stop himself, which Jin didn’t mind in the least. They made their way to the central hall of Tsuku. Jin wasn’t sure if Bai already knew how meals were done here or if he just followed his nose – the rich scent of oil and onions was drifting from the kitchens to guide them.
Two of the Moon Deer’s granddaughters greeted them, though Jin didn’t miss their sour glances at Bai and her linked hands. They settled Jin and Bai at large white stone tables in the back garden and soon finely painted earthenware dishes were set before them, filled with rice and fermented soybeans, pickled ferns and radishes, and fresh sprouts.
Last night she hadn’t dwelled on the simple, plant-based dinner that had been brought to her room, but now Jin was surprised by the lack of meat in such a rich spread. Bai must have realized her question, for he leaned forward to whisper, “The Moon Deer and his family are vegetarians. They’ll eat fish when served it – a necessary adaptation with the Sea Dragon for a son-in-law - but no animals are cooked here at Tsuku.”
Jin nodded, thinking that if she had lived a lifetime as a deer, it would indeed be strange to eat meat.
She and Bai were joined by members of the household. She let Bai neatly deflect their questions about Cheng, instead turning the subject to their travels. Jin found they liked to listen to the way she described the Kuanbai and the Great Ladies, even though surely most of them must have visited themselves, for all had at least a few thousand years on Jin.
She was grateful when the meal finished, and Bai suggested they retire to their room for some private conversation.
The first thing Jin noticed when she entered this time was red tea set on a bamboo shelf. She crossed to it and picked it up. A gold sun and the flaring wings of a diving eagle – Gang’s symbols. Her eyes began to fill with tears, and her throat closed. Bai’s hands settled on her shoulders and she turned into him, the cup trapped between them.
“This is Gang’s room,” she told Bai.
“Yes, I know. But why does that upset you?”
“I’m not upset exactly.” She dragged him to a red silk wall hanging with pink and white peonies. “I embroidered this as a child.” She tugged him along to a painting of an adolescent girl dancing. “This is when I was three and half millennia old and I danced at the wedding of the Bandoan king.” She dragged him before the folding screen. “And this is the first piece I finished by myself when I was studying painting.” She heaved a sigh. “He collected these – he must have watched over me my entire life. But I had no idea. And why would he...
“I thought Nanami was right, that it must be Gang who poisoned and kidnapped me, but I just can’t reconcile this room with that. And – and–”
Bai suddenly pulled her close in another embrace. “I don’t understand it either. But we don’t know that it was Gang who used the poison against you. You are the one who said Aka could not be condemned on hearsay. So let us not condemn Gang either.”
Jin nodded, but the tears kept streaming down her face. “I haven’t told you what Karana said yesterday.”
Bai pulled away and looked her in the face. “I wasn’t sure you wanted to.”
Jin smiled ruefully. “Because I ordered you away? I knew Karana wouldn’t be open in front of you, but I always intended to tell you. If nothing else, I need your help for my quest, so I should tell you everything I know.”
Bai lifted his hand and very tentatively tucked some hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. But this particular tale is a little difficult.” When she finished explaining about her deceased half-brother, the God of Belief, Jin stared at the floor. “Do you – do you understand why I couldn’t repudiate Karana? Even though what he did was horrible?”
Bai was quiet. “Truthfully, I probably would have. But you are far kinder than I am, more forgiving and less reactive. I can respect and honor your decision. Jin, you inspire me. I want to be worthy of you, to be more tolerant and accepting. Focused on building a better future rather than trying to avenge the past–”
Jin interrupted him. “I love you, Bai. In this whole mess, you – you’ve been so important to me...”
Bai leaned forward suddenly and pressed his lips to hers. They were warm and smooth, and Jin was so thrilled that she tried to kiss him back. Instead, she ended up head butting him.
HAVING finally gathered the courage to confess his feelings and kiss Jin, Bai knew she might hurt him, but he had expected emotional pain, not her skull slamming his nose. Bai had leaned forward for the kiss; he now took a step back, clutching his nose, eyes closed. The pain was fading – he didn’t think it was broken, maybe not even bloodied.
“Did I offend you?” he managed after a moment.
Jin didn’t reply, and Bai opened his eyes. Jin was staring at the red and gold teacup, her cheeks full of blood. After a moment, Bai released his nose to touch her shoulder. “Jin? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you without your permission. I misread the situation.”
“No! No, you didn’t,” she blurted, and her eyes darting up at him before returning to the cup. “I’m so, so sorry. I just – I just wanted to kiss you back. I didn’t – that is – it’s harder than it seems!”
Bai turned that over a few times. “Have you never kissed anyone before?”
She spun around, flinging an elbow over her face. A soft moan escaped her, and Bai understood he had mortified her. His nose didn’t bother him at all anymore. In fact, he found a stupid smile curving his lips. He cleared his throat. He reached around and tugged the teacup from her fingers. After he had returned it to its shelf, he pulled her into a hug.
Jin was stiff at first but after a moment, her hands crept around his waist and bunched the robes at his back. Bai had intended to just enjoy her embrace, but he found himself reflecting on Karana’s story.
“Jin,” he said at last, “Karana and Salaana targeted your brother because he was too powerful in their eyes.”
“Yes.”
“When Karana saw you restore Cheng earlier, his attitude bothered me. I felt he was resentful of your power and just a bit afraid.”
Jin pulled back slightly and frowned up at him. “He was afraid – I thought he was worried about Cheng.”
Bai shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think he was afraid of you. If we wish to avoid a confrontation with him or Salaana, I think we need to leave here soon. Maybe today.”
Jin bit her lip. “But where do we go?”
He hesitated. “I suppose we should go to the Underworld.”
/>
Her brows arched. “What happened to ‘you need to study’?”
He smiled sheepishly. “Yes. Well. That was an excuse because I was afraid.” He grew very serious. “I am afraid of losing you. But there isn’t anything for us to study here. I will teach you more as we travel, but I am beginning to think Earth and the Heavens are just as full of pitfalls as the Underworld.”
Jin shrugged. “Then let’s go.”
He chuckled. Blame his long life, but his “now” and her “now” varied by a few days. “Let us rest here tonight. Tomorrow, I shall summon a cloud.”
Chapter 16: How the Night Dragon Retaliated
THE dragon that was Xiao eased forward. Nanami could see nothing but its large purple-black scales, though she could sense the assembly holding its collective breath. Needing to know what unfolded, even if she was not an active participant in this power war, Nanami made a flying leap onto Xiao’s back and then ran beside the frill of his spine until she reached his mane. She wound her hand into those black silky strands, hoping, perhaps ridiculously, that it didn’t hurt Xiao.
Xiao had paused when she began her run, and her father took advantage of his hesitation to lunge, teeth aimed for Xiao’s throat. They never connected. Instead, Xiao’s forelegs shot out and pinned the Sea Dragon to the wood floor of the hall. His massive claws cracked the boards they touched.
“Unfortunately, you’re so full of bile, I don’t think you’d taste very good. Probably upset my stomach. Why don’t you beg Nanami for your life? I would be willing to spare it, if it pleased her.”
Nanami’s fingers trembled in the mane they held. Who needed two hands when she had a dragon to protect her?
Her father – no, she no longer wanted to think of the old man that way. Ao thrashed against the boards, demolishing the floor that had been spared by Xiao’s claws. But he was no match for the larger dragon.
Ao was too proud to beg and too stubborn to apologize, even though it was clear his life was at stake.
But Miko was not.
Miko, the daughter of the Moon Deer, the beautiful maiden who had captured Ao’s affections when she was just five thousand years old and who had borne him thirteen children, would not have known how to exist without her husband. She threw herself at the massive violet claws, heedless of the way her voluminous kimono was torn by the struggle, and begged.
“Please, please, Night Dragon, please spare my husband. He doesn’t mean it. Our daughter hurt him terribly; it is only because he loved her so deeply that he came to hate her so passionately. He's an old fool, but I love him! Please, God of Love, please spare my heart’s mate! I beseech you!”
Xiao went stiff, and then he scoffed, his talon still pinning the Sea Dragon. “I’m afraid you didn’t listen. I said to beg Nanami, not me.”
Miko looked straight at Nanami for the first time. How old her mother had grown! Her once impossibly smooth skin was now covered by heavy makeup that could not completely hide the lines of her face.
“Nanami,” said her mother, “Please, please spare him. We need him.”
And then her siblings were gathered around, and their spouses and children. They all looked terrified. Some were even crying, though the Sea Dragon abhorred tears. Nanami remembered being spanked when her pet turtle died and told not to whine. But maybe it’s permissible to cry for the Sea Dragon, some part of her that was very far away mused.
“Please, God of Love! Please, Nanami! Please spare our beloved father!”
Nanami had told Bai that she didn’t want to watch him destroy her family; who knew that Xiao was as big a threat? But Nanami couldn’t believe that Xiao would really kill anyone. He was too kind, and Nanami felt strangely certain that he had never taken a life. He probably let mosquitoes drink from him unmolested because he wanted to make them happy.
It hadn’t escaped Nanami’s notice, though her family seemed oblivious, that while Ao had tried to bite Xiao, Xiao hadn’t even pierced him with a claw. Any damage done to the Sea Dragon was caused by its own thrashing against the broken boards of the hall. Xiao was bluffing them out – and doing it well – all for her. To punish them for hurting her, for abandoning her.
But it hurt him to ignore their prayers – she had felt his shock when Miko called him the God of Love. Nanami had immediately felt the rightness of that address – how must Xiao have felt?
And so for Xiao’s sake, Nanami said, “Let him go.”
XIAO sat in the garden tea house, a cup of steaming matcha before him. For the moment, he and Nanami were alone. She sat across from him, her eyes on her lap. Her round face was drawn; her full cheeks somehow giving the impression of thinness, as if the struggle between Xiao and Ao had sucked away some of her vitality. She was cradling her stump with her right hand, and that hand looked small and delicate. He tried to recall his first impression of her, when confidence and control had filled her movements. Nimble, not delicate, he told himself.
Xiao was sure that the residents of the Sea Palace must be very busy inside its walls, dealing with the damage he had inflicted, but he heard and saw none of them. Probably they were all terrified of attracting his notice.
Nanami’s long bangs cupped her cheeks, as Xiao wanted to. He couldn’t see her eyes though, and for once he lacked the confidence to touch her without explicit invitation.
“Do I owe you an apology?”
She jerked her head up, at last meeting his eyes. “You saved my life – why would you owe me an apology?”
Xiao spoke slowly. “I terrified your family. And now they fear me, but I don’t know if they respect you. That’s what I wanted. I realize now I failed.”
Nanami stood after a moment and walked around the table until she reached him. She knelt. “Not everything we want in life is possible. This place is no longer my home, and these people are no longer my family. I wish I could say I didn’t care that I don’t have their respect, but it isn’t true – at least not yet. I think someday, it may be.” She cleared her throat. “I want...I want you. I,” she swallowed, “love you. Would you be my family?”
Xiao turned his head away, trying to hide his tears. Nanami turned it back.
He struggled to find his voice. “For a long time, I was content with marrying Jin. She wasn’t interested in me romantically, but she’s never been interested in anyone, and she has been my family, more than anyone else.
“It hurt to see Jin fall head over heels for Bai as soon as she saw him. I think...I know this sounds strange, since we’re the same age, but I realized that I was waiting for her to grow up, thinking that when she did, she’d fall in love with me. She’s always been such an important part of my life and I could – I could have loved her. If she had wanted it, I would have given her everything.
“I’m sorry, I don’t say this to hurt you, but because I need to be honest. I want – I need you to understand me.”
Nanami nodded slowly, not saying anything, and Xiao worried that he had indeed hurt her. So he hurried on.
“When we saw them on the Yanou, I realized that Jin and I had never fallen in love because we weren’t compatible. Jin and Bai are. Just as...just as you and I are.
“Nanami, I love you, too. I want to marry you, to be at your side for the rest of eternity. But...”
She tilted her head.
“If we marry, I’ll only have a few decades to live. I’ll lose my powers. So I don’t know...do I marry Jin, just so we can follow the letter of our vow? Would you accept me...”
Nanami leaned forward and kissed him. Her arms wrapped around his back and she pressed against him.
This is it. This is all I need.
Nanami ended the kiss. “I would accept you on any terms. I don’t need a wedding or the promise of forever. If you choose to be with me now, I would be very happy.”
Xiao shook his head. “Don’t ever say that again. You have the rest of my life, and you better say the same to me!”
Nanami’s lips parted soft
ly in surprise. Then she nodded and laughed, so Xiao kissed her again.
A soft cough came from the entrance of the tea house.
Note to self, the Sea Palace is terrible for trysts. Nanami’s siblings always interrupt us.
Nanami settled at his side, smoothing her clothes, as Nimi and her husband entered the teahouse. They were followed by Kairoku and his wife.
“Our mother sends her apologies. She must tend to our father,” announced Kairoku.
When Xiao had released the Sea Dragon, he had bled profusely from ten deep scores, one for each of Xiao’s claws. Xiao flexed his now small, relatively harmless human hands now, remembering the feeling of the Sea Dragon writhing in them. Xiao wasn’t entirely sure if he had cut the other dragon deliberately – he had to hold him tightly because of the Sea Dragon’s struggles. However, Xiao had never wanted to hurt another being so much in his life, and he couldn’t say for sure if the way he had dug his claws in near the end had been necessary or not.
Xiao supposed that the fact Nanami’s family had even sent four people to speak with them was a good sign. After all, the tea house was too small to hold many more and the main hall too damaged. Not to mention, he had terrified them so thoroughly that none of them wanted to be near him.
“Your divinity, may we ask how long you plan to stay?” ventured Nimi.
Xiao looked at Nanami. “That is up to Nanami.”
He half-thought she would say they weren’t staying at all, but she seemed to seriously consider it, as hurt, hope, confusion all danced across her face.
“We will stay until we know if Ao will live or die,” she declared. She looked at Nimi. “I didn’t know that he could actually become a dragon. Did you?”
Nimi looked at Nanami with a blank face, her hands fisted on her thighs.
When no answer seemed to be forthcoming, Xiao said, “Why aren’t you answering her?”
“Father forbid speaking to her–”
Xiao slammed his fist on the table, and the tea things all clattered.
Vows of Gold and Laughter (The Immortal Beings Book 1) Page 33
