Claddings of Light : Book 12 of Painting the Mists

by Patrick Laplante

  Cha Ming’s blurry vision refocused. Weak as he was, it took time to adapt to the disappearance of Thirty-Six Heavenly Transformation and the Crown of the Starry Sky. “I’ve mastered a thousand stages of Elder Ling’s puzzle and mastered all the talisman formulas I could get my hands on. My runic web is as tight as I can make it without a fire-based particulate concept to anchor it. I… thought that by getting to the end, I could open the first stage of the puzzle box. That perhaps something there could help me. But I’ve tried for so long, and I still can’t take that step. I can’t rely on this anymore.”

  “There, there, lad,” Sun Wukong said, sitting beside him. “It wasn’t a waste. Learning talismans was important. You’re much more flexible in combat. You can summon any talisman you want as long as you have creation qi. And besides, you have a way to earn money now. Without relying on the guard.”

  “I know,” Cha Ming said. “I just wish things didn’t feel so hopeless. I might be able to go toe to toe with an initial-rune-gathering cultivator, but only a Daoist. Not even a demigod. I wouldn’t stand a chance against a Dao God or demon. I thought grasping a concept would get easier if I mastered more runes, especially fire-based ones. I thought I could make it to the next level quickly. I was mistaken.”

  In fact, he felt even further from his goal than when he’d started. The elusive particulate concept of energy he’d been seeking was nowhere to be found. He’d gained enlightenment on some concepts he’d thought would work, but none of them matched the other concepts he’d mastered. The concept of sparks was too weak, as was the concept of embers. The concepts of flame, candlelight, and sunshine were energy concepts and thus incompatible.

  “I chose concepts that were too strong to begin with,” Cha Ming said with a sigh. “Inky Rain, Sacred Sand, Radiant Construction, and Starry Sky… they’re powerful first-order concepts. But to maintain the balance, I need one that’s just as strong.”

  “True,” Sun Wukong said. “But you know I can’t help you, boy. If I even told you of the existence of a concept, it might predispose you to chasing it. Then you might never obtain it.”

  “I know,” Cha Ming said. “That being the case, I have only one real option left.” Two if you counted Elder Zhong and the Greenwind Pavilion, but he didn’t have the funds to deal with the avaricious immortal. “I’ll need to go to the Iridescent Phoenix Clan and procure phoenix blood for my body cultivation. Perhaps if I become a peak Dao God or I break through to the muscle-empowering realm, I’ll be able to close the gap.”

  “A reasonable path forward,” Sun Wukong said. “I should warn you, however: The Phoenix Clan is proud. They don’t just give away phoenix blood. Especially not to outsiders. Phoenix inheritance blood is more valuable than you could ever imagine.”

  “Then I’d better make sure I use every connection I have,” Cha Ming said. “But first, it’s time to stock up on supplies.”

  “Dragon metals?” Sun Wukong asked.

  “Dragon metals,” Cha Ming said grimly. He’d burned through a fair amount of the precious resource while training Clockwork Boots of the Golden Dragon. Now, he was almost out. It would be impossible to obtain more after leaving the Burning Lake Prefecture. “If my memory serves correctly, there’ll be another auction today.

  “Take some time off to relax while you’re at it,” Sun Wukong said. “You need to lighten up. This whole grim-mood thing really doesn’t suit you.” How Cha Ming wished it were that easy.

  “I’ll see what I can do,” Cha Ming said, knowing deep down that he would do no such thing. He was always like this when the pressure mounted. He just hoped that this time, like other times, it didn’t break him.

  Chapter 2: Undercurrents

  Cultivators and mortals alike parted as Cha Ming walked through the streets of the Burning Lake Prefecture. They avoided him much like waters would an aerodynamic ship, gently stepping aside but re-forming once he was on his way. He made good time considering he wasn’t flying but walking—just quick enough to skim surface emotions. There was a feeling in the air. A rhythm.

  Demons were very sensitive to their surroundings, and as such, they avoided walking out in the open. This was all despite Lord Burning Lake’s public declaration granting third-rank citizenship to all demon residents and refugees in the prefecture. No matter what excuses were made or what reasons were given, this human prefecture was at war with the demon lands they’d subdued and encircled tens of thousands of years ago.

  There were exceptions, of course. Cha Ming spotted the occasional demon member of the Kingfisher Guard, as well as the just-as-rare members of the military. They walked openly and without fear, though the former never forgot to wear their bronze, silver, and golden pins. The latter wore perfectly cared for uniforms, leaving nothing to chance, lest a disgruntled citizen single them out.

  No wonder Huxian and his friends chose to stay in Stargazer City, Cha Ming thought.

  It was a smart choice, Sun Wukong replied. I’m surprised you didn’t.

  He’d wanted to. People were friendly there, and near the Tree of Life, there was starlight aplenty.

  I couldn’t, Cha Ming replied. Clever Dusk needed to consolidate her power, and another king-level clansman would have interfered with that. Moreover, I had much to do at the Kingfisher Guard Station.

  Though the bulk of Cha Ming’s reward from Captain Xing for the Crimson Division mission had been in the form of Grandmist, he’d underestimated the value of what they’d done. The amount of merit points he’d received had been astronomical. Enough for him to peruse and learn nearly everything that had to do with talisman crafting in the guard house, in addition to procuring the appropriate ingredients.

  Still, there were limits to how much a mission could reward a person, and only so much he could do with time accelerated tenfold. His Dantian was full again, ready to break through, and all he lacked were the appropriate concepts for a rune carving. All the more reason to leave this wretched city.

  It didn’t take long for Cha Ming to reach the auction house. A freshly made sign marked it as the Xia Treasure House, the newest crown jewel of the Xia Clan. It had once belonged to the Li Clan, the richest of the five great clans. Since their collapse at Cha Ming’s hands, however, the lone member of the Li Clan, Patriarch Li, had been forced to liquidate everything. The auction house had been the first thing to go.

  “Pass, please,” said an attendant as Cha Ming entered. Her eyes flickered to his general appearance and the crimson pin he usually wore. She knew who he was, but the Xia Clan was known for its insistence on protocol. Cha Ming took out a small paddle he’d purchased weeks ago. “You are cleared for the twenty-first through thirtieth floors,” she said. He nodded before proceeding to the elevators, where a small crowd waited their turn.

  The magic lift brought him up smoother than any electrical device from Earth ever could have. Using his Eyes of Truth, he could see faint runic lines covering every piece of the artifice. Most of the lines were simple, but the runic instruction core was too complex for him to replicate.

  Cha Ming exited on the thirtieth floor, the highest floor he had access to. Floors were indicative of status here. Not only would you get better service at higher levels, but bidders here were afforded a certain amount of deference. There were only three higher floors in this modern glass building, the top one being reserved for Prefecture Lord Burning Lake and his guests, and the second one for the Xia Clan and whoever they invited. The third floor was filled with private booths reserved for the five great clans and five great sects. These organizations were massive, so the booths were always occupied.

  Cha Ming slipped inside an unoccupied booth and tapped a panel on the outside. It flashed with characters for “Clear Sky,” both to show that the room was occupied and to indicate he was allowing visitors.

  “Tea, sir?” a man popped in and asked as soon as he sat down.

  “Pu’er, please,” Cha Ming said. The man immediately returned with a cup. Cha Ming savored it as he sat and e
valuated the auction. This wasn’t a special auction but one of those that happened a few times a week. A continuation of the great dismantling of one of the largest asset holders in the prefecture.

  Bids were placed via bidding paddle and verbal commands. He heard it all through the amplifiers and filters in the room. Mundane assets and merchandise were being auctioned, as well as minor dwellings and properties. Large quantities of base commodities changed hands and would continue to do so for quite some time before the real treasures went up for sale.

  He heard a soft knock on the door a good fifteen minutes into the auction. Curious. He opened it to find Wei Longshen. Mi Fei wasn’t there, which meant there was no rusty dagger that would repeatedly stab at his heart. A blessing.

  “Brother Cha Ming,” Wei Longshen said. “I see that you’re alone and without company.”

  “And I see that you’ve neglected your private booth once again, Brother Longshen,” Cha Ming said, inviting him in. He brewed another cup of tea for the man, who accepted it gratefully. “One has to wonder what a phenomenal waste of money it is to keep that booth, given how seldom you use it.”

  “It’s hardly a waste, as we pay people to man it,” Wei Longshen said. “I’ve always found the expense to at least pay for itself.”

  “Regardless, I’m happy for the company,” Cha Ming said. “I haven’t had much fresh air recently.”

  “It’s been two weeks since the last time by my count,” Wei Longshen said.

  “Twenty by mine,” Cha Ming said. He’d long since told Wei Longshen about his time-accelerating treasure.

  “You do realize that half the great clans can manage maybe five times at best,” Wei Longshen said. “And that the cost for doing so is astronomical.”

  “It’s a common feature for soul-bound treasures,” Cha Ming said, waving it off. He’d researched it. “Besides, even that much isn’t enough, given what I’ll be facing in four months’ time.”

  “True,” Wei Longshen said. “How is that coming along?”

  “How’s business?” Cha Ming asked, changing the subject.

  “More of the same,” Wei Longshen said, taking the hint. “Though we’ve had to slow down of late. You know how it is.”

  Cha Ming nodded. “Can’t be too ambitious all at once, even if only half your dealings are public.” Wei Longshen was somewhat of a rising star in the prefecture. Not only was his soul nearly the same rank as Cha Ming’s—albeit death-aligned—he’d recently discovered a hidden talent of the soul-piper profession. Through his arts, he’d taken to reviving falling clans and taking them under the Wei Clan’s protective umbrella. Some had been in secret, but many of the acquisitions had been public—a show of power.

  “One second,” Wei Longshen said, holding up his hand.

  Cha Ming listened in to see what Wei Longshen had discovered. An auction was ongoing—one for a batch of goods that originated from one of the Li Clan’s old shops. It was being sold separately from the shop itself, as the Xia Clan had found this arrangement most profitable. Wei Longshen called up a function on the glass of the room, pulling up a hologram of each item in three dimensions. They were perfect renderings, with specifications and information on their crafters.

  “How would you judge this item?” he asked, waving Cha Ming closer.

  “I’m no spiritual blacksmith,” Cha Ming said. “At least, not a good one.”

  “Entertain me,” Wei Longshen said.

  Cha Ming looked over the weapon. He observed the runic lines and how they flowed, as well as the quality of the runes. He couldn’t speak to the material or how much time it had taken for the smith to make it, but he confessed himself impressed. “Good runework,” he said at last. “Late rune carving but pushing into peak rune carving.”

  “The artisan is down on his luck, or so my sources tell me,” Wei Longshen said. “Apparently, he’s shoddy at working metal. The weapons bundle is going cheap, you’ll note. Thirty percent below bulk market price instead of twenty.”

  “Like I said, I can only speak as to the runework,” Cha Ming said.

  “That’s all I needed to know,” Wei Longshen said. He retrieved his communication device and spoke into it. “Buy the bundle. Yes, I know. I don’t care. Yes, I know it’s not worth it.” He then hung up and placed another call. “Please set up a meeting with Dao God Ponderous Cut. Yes, tomorrow works.”

  “As much as you say you hate recruiting, you seem to do an awful lot of it,” Cha Ming said.

  “Ironically, I find myself less busy these days, despite my increased responsibilities,” Wei Longshen said. “Why not scout out talents others will ignore in their scramble for discounted material goods?”

  “I’m not saying it’s not smart, I’m saying you complain too much,” Cha Ming said.

  “True,” Wei Longshen said. “How are you holding yourself together?”

  This time, Cha Ming didn’t avoid the topic. “Barely,” he admitted, taking another sip of his tea. The blend was a stimulating one that countered his gloom, which didn’t at all match the auction’s rising and ebbing tides. “I’m afraid my growth has stalled, Brother Longshen. I need to leave.”

  “Not too far, I hope,” Wei Longshen said. “The farther away you are, the more likely it is you’ll encounter something that prevents you from coming back. We wouldn’t want you dying due to a technicality.” Failure to come back by the arranged time for his duels would result in immediate forfeiture of the matches. Given that it was a death match, he would instantly die via contract enforcement.

  “Stargazer City first, then Shimmerwing City,” Cha Ming said. “Any requests?”

  “At this point, it’s not a good idea to recruit too many artisans from the demon lands,” Wei Longshen said.

  Cha Ming nodded in understanding. Trade with both cities had practically stalled.

  They didn’t have time to continue the conversation, however, since at that moment, there was a knock on the door. Cha Ming opened it to find Shneraz, a silver-ranked Kingfisher Guardsman, and Serrendil, a gold-ranked Kingfisher Guardswoman.

  “We’re not interrupting anything, are we?” Shneraz asked, eyeing Wei Longshen.

  “Not at all,” Cha Ming replied. “Have a seat. Would you like some tea?” Then, remembering he had another guest, he added, “You’ve met Brother Longshen, have you not?”

  “We’ve talked a few times, but only briefly,” Serrendil said. Like Shneraz, she was a Golden Dragon. Both of them had scale signs on their necks and arms that proudly displayed their heritage. Theirs was one of the few clans in the prefecture that dared do so. Now that they were no longer starving for dragon metals, they were a legitimate powerhouse in the city.

  Most of the Golden Dragon clansmen had golden hair and golden eyes. Shneraz was a prime example of this. His human form was hulking but handsome, and his skin was tougher than armor. His demon weapon was his clan’s preferred weapon—the spear. Serrendil, on the other hand, had inky-black hair. Her scale signs and spear were also of the same color. Most people wouldn’t know the reason for this, and neither would they care.

  Everyone in the room, however, knew more than most. She was inkborn, a strange variant demon gifted with the power of ink. She didn’t have the traditional strengths of her clan, but variant abilities. In Serrendil’s case, her gift was music. Wherever she went, she carried a song or rhythm about her.

  “What garbage they sell,” Serrendil said, inspecting the latest bundle of weapons on auction. “The Li Clan—dominant in metals but so poor at smithing. I’m not sure whether to pity them or to feel insulted at our loss to them.”

  “I’d hardly call it a loss when your clan lives and theirs doesn’t,” Wei Longshen pointed out.

  “True,” Serrendil said. “With a few thousand members, but that’s orders of magnitude more than a sole living patriarch.”

  “Patriarch no longer,” Cha Ming said. “I heard that he joined the Cao Clan as an elder.”

  “Then yes, the victory is complete,�
�� Serrendil said. “Even many of their employees were caught up in that clan-destroying blast.” She was, of course, referring to their reveal of the rakshasa clan and their infiltration of the Li Clan. Rather than try to escape or submit, they’d self-destructed, eliminating an entire clan in an instant. It was this same event Prefecture Lord Burning Lake had used to justify their invasion of the demon lands.

  “I take it we’re here for the same reasons?” Cha Ming asked.

  Serrendil nodded. “Dragon metals. There are fewer and fewer batches on the market these days.” There was worry in her tone.

  “It was a high-profit item to sell in the beginning,” Wei Longshen said. “Enough to satisfy certain creditors. But as you well know, such metals aren’t easy to mine.”

  “Not without my clan, they aren’t,” Serrendil said. “It’s a pity they’re not open to selling us back our homeland.”

  “We may yet be able to strike a deal with the owners,” Shneraz said. “They won’t necessarily be unreasonable like the Li Clan.”

  “Maybe,” Serrendil said doubtfully. “I’m not keeping my hopes up.” She was a natural skeptic, and rightly so. She’d been fooled into working for the Li Clan for many years. “Well, time isn’t going to pass itself. What’s this—tea? Let’s get proper drinks.”

  So it was that they passed the time, with Cha Ming and Wei Longshen drinking tea and the dragons the foul drinks they preferred. Now that their finances were no longer stretched so thin, it was a luxury they could afford. It was a good hour before this phase of the auction ended and another began, one hour of passive recruiting from Wei Longshen and the occasional low bid from the duo of dragons.

  In the next phase of the auction, more-expensive items began selling off. Most were batches of valuable metals and pieces of property. Cha Ming had to hold himself back when a few rare ink materials surfaced. His funds were stretched thin, and he didn’t know what awaited him in Shimmerwing.