Claddings of Light : Book 12 of Painting the Mists

by Patrick Laplante

  “We’ve explored everything but the ninth floor,” Huxian agreed. “We should explore that one too. It’s only…”

  “Isn’t that where the elder lives?” Bifang asked.

  “A coincidence,” Huxian said. She looked at him with a hurt expression. “All right, fine. I’m a little bit scared. We should let her cool down before sticking it to her.”

  “You mean we’ll take revenge?” Bifang asked, her expression brightening.

  “She started it; we’ll finish it,” Huxian said. “She thinks posting thugs on the ninth floor will stop us? Not a chance. But let’s not think about that for now. Let’s get something to eat.”

  They pushed and shoved their way to a slightly less-crowded street filled with red and blue lanterns. The fifth floor wasn’t the richest of places, but people from the fourth through sixth floors frequented it. Phoenix clansmen mingled with non-Phoenix clansmen, and even the odd human. Everyone was welcome here.

  The street was famous for its strange style of eating and drinking that involved a lot of standing, walking, and talking. There weren’t any chairs, save for the occasional balcony or patio. Most restaurants or eateries instead had tall standing tables from which clients could eat and watch street performers.

  “Fish malatang! Fish malatang!” one of the hole-in-the-wall food vendors cried out. Huxian wrinkled his nose. He hated fish, but Phoenix clansmen couldn’t get enough of it.

  They passed by several shops and stopped at one that contained skewers of some type of monstrous demon mammal. An ox, maybe? Horse? Definitely not carnivorous. “Greetings, Lord Fox,” said the shopkeeper. “How many sticks will you be having today?”

  Huxian licked his lips as he eyed the juicy meat skewers. “Ten! No, twenty!”

  “A big eater, I see,” the demon said, pulling out a large bucket from the side. He handed it to Huxian, who had Bifang hold it as he loaded it up with choice skewers that had been simmering in a trough of soup. The broth took its flavor from the many skewered ingredients that were for sale. It was spicy and numbed the tongue in a pleasing way. They took a pass on the loose pepper.

  “Thanks, mister!” Bifang said as Huxian left a pile of yellow demon coins on the counter.

  “Don’t eat too quickly, little girl,” the shopkeeper said. “Those peppers burn!”

  “Little girl? Who’s a little girl?” Bifang said haughtily. She took one of the skewers and chomped on it, splintering the skewer but swallowing it down with the meat just the same.

  “Wood isn’t really tasty, you know,” Huxian said.

  “Says who?” Bifang said. “I like the taste. Would you stop eating something if I said it wasn’t tasty?” She took another bite of wood to drive the point home.

  “Fine, fine,” Huxian said. “I wonder who they’ve got on for street performers today.”

  They wandered over with the crowd, eating their skewers and purchasing fizzy, creamy drinks that would prevent them from burning a hole into their tongues as they ate. He pitied the sickly-looking humans who’d clearly never been told there was a difference between demon spicy and human spicy.

  The street eventually led to a circular stage surrounded by a circular street. It was surrounded by a packed crowd that continuously moved in a slow counterclockwise pattern. Standing here was prohibited, and anyone who did so would get pushed and shoved until they were trampled underfoot or forced out to the edges. Entertainers went on and off the stage, continuing until they were either done with their performance or they were booed off. The standards were high here, no matter how drunk the local demon populace was.

  A phoenix flame speaker came up first. It wasn’t a common profession, even around Shimmerwing. He told a story that came to life with four-colored flames. It wasn’t a long play—just ten minutes long. He was replaced by another performer within seconds.

  “Wow, a musician!” Bifang said.

  “A nice change,” Huxian agreed. “Stupid Phoenix clansmen and their flames and light shows.” His comments attracted a few angry glares. The musician in question was a Golden Dragon, and his demon weapon a golden fiddle. The crowd wept as he played.

  They ate. They drank. They walked in circles until their feet were raw. There came fighters and tumblers and singers and dancers. Painters that made art with scorching flames. A pair of phoenix acrobats even came up. They fought mock battles using exaggerated fire-based techniques that imitated the manifestations of the five main demon clans. The Star-Eye Monkey came first, and the Inkwell Turtle came second. The Clockwork Dragon came third, followed closely by the Runebound Python. The Iridescent Phoenix came last, crushing the techniques of the two fighters, then berating them for their inferior techniques.

  Phoenixes and their pride, Huxian thought after that last performance. “Are you satisfied yet? Do you want to keep watching?”

  They’d been at it for hours. Bifang yawned in reply.

  “Let’s go, then.” He began to drag her off, when suddenly, another performer appeared on stage who stopped him in his tracks. “On second thought, let’s watch this one first.”

  “Is there something special about this one?” Bifang asked.

  “Watch,” Huxian said.

  “I come bearing a performance unlike any other,” the woman said. She was plain of look and plain of garb. Her voice was slow and mysterious.

  “A show unlike any other?” someone in the audience obliged. “You’re bold to make such a claim.” The audience agreed, and the woman smiled.

  “I will do so using nothing but glass and the lights in the sky,” the woman said. “No flames will be required for my performance.” The crowd laughed. A show unlike any other, and without flames? In this city, that was unheard of.

  “This is going to be good,” Huxian said. They continued walking in their slow circle, which had almost crawled to a halt. Everyone wanted a good view of the stage and refused to be shoved any further than required.

  “She looks like a regular old lady,” Bifang said.

  “She does, doesn’t she?” Huxian said. His eyes twinkled as he saw what others did not. The woman might look plain to others, but he could see the truth: The woman didn’t exist. Only the black glass panes she summoned did. They broke into several dozen pieces and spread out in a pattern, filling the entire stage.

  “The flame performers used fire to tell this tale,” the woman said. “I will tell the same story.” She held out both hands, and two duelists appeared. They were identical in appearance to those who’d just sparred. “Don’t worry. They aren’t real. Those performers are over there!” The black glass shifted into a spotlight that reflected the main light from the ceiling, revealing the same two jesters enjoying drinks gifted by their patrons.

  “How is she doing it?” Bifang asked.

  “Lights,” Huxian said. “Just lights.” The black glass she controlled reflected not only the main light from the ceiling, but also the colored sub-lights from all around them. The illusory acrobats fought as they had before, and overhead, larger panes of black glass shifted.

  “Receive my first strike and the fury of the sea!” the first projected duelist said. A black ocean appeared overhead. A massive black turtle surfaced from the black waves and lashed out with a flipper. The duelist reacted by summoning a Golden Dragon with scales of shifting gears. She roared, and the audience was deafened.

  “How can this be a light show?” Bifang whispered. “There’s sound!”

  “This is a whole different level of illusion,” Huxian agreed. Most of the audience was taking cover, thinking the attacks were real. When the Star-Eye Monkey appeared, they panicked. Thankfully, she wasn’t aggressive like in the first performance. Instead, she hid in the lush forest and pulled on a single green string. A trap sprung, and many other strings surrounded the dragon, entangling her.

  The monkey’s victory was short-lived, however, as yet another beast appeared. The Runebound Python smashed her tail, whipping up burning sands and blasting the strings away. All four
beasts stood at a stalemate, and the duelists were exhausted. They’d used all their trump cards.

  Finally, the glass panes in the sky tripled in volume, and a massive phoenix appeared. She wasn’t four-colored, like the performers from before could summon, but near black with an iridescent sheen. The giant Iridescent Phoenix flapped her wings, and iridescent flames blasted out and caused the other four to tremble and bow their heads in respect.

  “You are the winner of this contest, dear sister!” cried the Runebound Python.

  “Your beating wings are music to my ears!” said the Clockwork Dragon.

  “Your illuminating flames reveal the most hidden of roads,” said the Star-Eye Monkey.

  “Your fires are unquenchable by even the deepest oceans,” said the Inkwell Turtle.

  “I cannot accept this honor, sisters,” said the Iridescent Phoenix. “Are we not friends? Have we not been together since the beginning?”

  “Then let us toast to our friendship!” they said. Together, they flew into the sky, forming a circle with five points. Then the circle shattered, and the sky and the land and the seas were born. The sun started shining, and the moon lit up the firmament.

  Then, it was over. The lights faded, and the glass became dark again. It stopped reflecting the light. The woman appeared once more. She bowed, and before anyone could even think of throwing coins or buying her drinks, she vanished.

  “What?” Bifang cried. “Where did she go?”

  “Follow me!” Huxian said.

  Huxian grabbed Bifang’s hand and rushed through the crowd. They had to hurry if they wanted to catch her. So preoccupied he was with tracking down that interesting demon that they ran into a man holding a bucket of spiced skewers. If that were all, Huxian wouldn’t have been worried. Then his own sensitive nose detected hints of dried peppers. His eyes narrowed, and he moved to lock a spatial shield in place before it was too late.

  Bifang sneezed, and robes began to burn. Carts and vendors shouted as seven-colored flames lit up the entire street. Not now, Huxian moaned.

  “It’s her!” cried one man. “It’s that stupid crane!”

  “That’s the fox brother of that arrogant human!” someone else yelled.

  “Run!” Huxian said, summoning a cloak of space-time and covering them both.

  They ran through the crowd, slipping through domains and dominions that snapped into place. There were too many eyes on them, so it was impossible to evade detection for more than a second at a time. They were spotted as they ran out of the crowd, and some of the stronger seekers chased. Huxian racked his brain for a solution as he and Bifang raced away, hand in hand.

  “We need to teleport somewhere,” Huxian said. But where? Judging by the shouting and the flickering flames not far away, the entire fifth floor would be looking for them. This wasn’t just a minor case of pyromantic misdemeanors. This was bordering on arson!

  “Over here!” a voice whispered. A hand reached out of the darkness, and Bifang yelped and jumped away. The hand managed to grab hold of Huxian, however, and pulled him into one of the few dark corners in the city. The moment he entered it, however, the corner lit up, though the area immediately outside this remained dark. Huxian pulled Bifang inside, bringing them face-to-face with a young girl, who put a finger to her lips and grinned. She had black hair, black eyes, and had black feathers on her arms and neck.

  “Inkborn?” Huxian exclaimed.

  Their pursuers ran past their patch of shadows, which Huxian now saw was the product of shards of black glass that reflected the light in the alley. Not far away, they saw copies of themselves running down the street to evade their pursuers.

  “It was you!” Bifang said. “You’re the performer.” She walked up to the grinning girl and poked her arm. “You’re not an old lady. You lied to us.”

  “She was never on stage,” Huxian said. “I could tell from the start.”

  “Father says I’m not allowed in public,” the girl said. “But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” She held out her hand. “My name is Graceful Twilight. Want to play?”

  “Crackling Flame!” Bifang said.

  “Eight Directions,” Huxian said. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Usually, I go around tricking people,” Graceful Twilight said. “Tricks are the best sort of fun, don’t you think?”

  “Tricks, huh?” Huxian said, rubbing his chin. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

  Chapter 18: The Five Burnings

  Sweat rolled off Cha Ming’s brow as he focused on the Clear Sky Cauldron, pushing all distractions out of his mind. Smells and sights and individuals competed for his attention, but he paid them no more heed than he would a speck of dust or a bothersome itch.

  Ingredients danced inside the runic cauldron and its shifting patterns. They shifted between nine different temperature zones in the cauldron as he peeled, crushed, separated, boiled, froze, and melted them with practiced ease.

  It was only upon completion of the last ingredient that Elder Iridescent Wonder, who was in the room with Iridescent Charity, spoke. “Lower the temperature slightly and fix the stalagmite saliva in space,” he said. “It will deteriorate if you overheat it.”

  “Make sure to normalize its properties while you’re at it,” Iridescent Charity added. “It’s a picky reagent.”

  Cha Ming made these small adjustments. They were both experienced alchemists in their own right, and he had much to learn from their insight. Moreover, failing this pill came with great financial costs, and he’d failed it far too many times already. The peak-grade version of the pill, Boon of Iridescence, would be an even greater challenge.

  “Stop being so aggressive with your flame,” Iridescent Wonder said.

  “I’m not being aggressive; I’m skipping a useless step,” Cha Ming replied. He clenched his hand, and the ingredient he was juicing writhed as the imprint of a rune caused the entire thing to collapse upon itself. He didn’t need to shrivel it with fire. Direct juicing was much more efficient.

  “That’s one way of doing it,” Iridescent Wonder muttered.

  “Quiet, you’re distracting the poor boy,” Iridescent Charity said. Banter between the two was common. It was fortunate that the other two in the room, Iridescent Virtue and Iridescent Tempest, weren’t nearly so vocal.

  Cha Ming continued his work, integrating runes into the process wherever he saw fit. Despite their lack of runic knowledge, Iridescent Wonder and Iridescent Charity had a sense for alchemy in general and could provide him with the occasional warning. Slowly but surely, the reaction progressed, leaving Cha Ming with four large blobs of powerful liquid. Their volumes reduced as his gray flames boiled away any excess.

  “Now for the hard part,” Iridescent Wonder said. “Are you going for a combination in a series, or will you try merging them all at once?”

  “I’ve noticed that mixing in the frigid mind component with the wrathful flame component directly results in instabilities,” Cha Ming said. “It’s best to fold them together progressively, though I haven’t decided what works best. Could you both give me feedback as I work?”

  “Just don’t do anything stupid,” Iridescent Wonder said.

  “Master, I don’t think that counts as advice,” Iridescent Tempest said.

  “Am I the master, or are you?” Iridescent Wonder scolded.

  Cha Ming tuned them out and began to mix iridescence, flame, stability, and mind together. He did so slowly, careful not to let any specific reaction take over. Using traditional alchemy, this was a difficult process that required days to perfectly harmonize. But Cha Ming didn’t have days to waste, and he wouldn’t want to attempt such a thing in the competition. More-aggressive attempts involved trying to blend everything together in two parts or simultaneously.

  Cha Ming chose neither approach. Instead, he formed each blob into a tangled mass of sigils as they merged. “The runic structure controls the rate at which they react,” he explained. “The main issue I’ve been experienci
ng is in the ratios. I’ve diverged so far from the original recipe that I have no idea where to begin. I don’t want to waste twenty more batches of ingredients on trial and error.”

  “What are your current estimates?” Iridescent Charity asked. When it came to alchemy, she was all business.

  “A third of the way in for stability and flame, and two-thirds in for iridescence,” Cha Ming replied. “At eighty percent, I’ll work in the frigid mind component. I figure that at that point, they’ll have stabilized enough to handle the cold temperature but will retain enough heat to keep the reaction going. My flames can’t supply everything that’s required.”

  “Not a bad guess,” Iridescent Wonder muttered. He scratched his chin and retrieved a sheet of paper. He began to doodle and draw. “I think iridescence should come after mind.”

  Cha Ming frowned. “The awakened glacier essence freezes everything in place that way.”

  “Not if you fuse it directly into the flame reagents,” Charity said. “This isn’t in the original formula, but we often do things like this to save time.”

  “But the flame reagents react violently when introduced to cold,” Cha Ming said.

  “Not when you’ve already used stability as a heat sink,” Iridescent Wonder said. “Just add it slowly and preheat the glacier essence first with your Grandmist flames.”

  “Won’t that melt the runes?” Cha Ming asked.

  “Apply the flames locally, just when they touch,” Iridescent Charity said. “Right after they lock together. Is your control sufficient?”

  Cha Ming nodded slowly and did as they said. The interlocking of the red and gray runic structures began producing a bubbling black blob. Cha Ming waited until they were one-third blended before moving to mix in the glacier essence.