Inevitably the lantern’s fuel would run out, the flame would die, and the stone around it would grow cold. “It wasn’t just you,” he said. “I recognize that. The universe had other plans for me.”
“At the end” —Tenzin turned her eyes back to the lantern— “Nima said she’d been right not to change. That fate would have judged her for clinging to life instead of accepting rebirth.”
“I guess that’s one way to see it.”
“For her it was the only way.” She lifted her chin. “I was with her when she died. I washed her and sang her burial song to send her to her ancestors.”
Ben stared at his mate, wondering how often she had performed those rituals for the mortals she had lost. Wondering if she would have sung for him had his fate been different or been too angry to give him that kind of care.
“Tenzin—”
“I know you want to know about my past.” She turned to look at him. “Modern humans… you want to know everything. You think that by unearthing ugly things, by revealing truth—whatever that means—you will rob those ugly things of their power.”
“Are you talking about the very few questions I asked you about Temur? Because I have not pushed—”
“When I am here” —she looked around the woods— “the past feels present. Close to the surface, like the water in that pond, licking against the ice.” Tenzin’s eyes came to rest on the frozen pond and the glowing flame. “Nima was the only human who ever knew the story of my life, and she took it with her when she died. She asked for it—to give me peace, she said—and I gave it to her.” She looked at him. “Do you understand?”
He did. And he didn’t. “I don’t know what you want me to say. If you’re telling me—”
“There is a part of you that wants to make me something I am not. You want me to change. You want me to evolve, just like you want the island to evolve.” She shook her head. “Don’t ask me to be something I am not, because the person I have become has been carefully built over a very long time.”
“And you want to freeze in time like these islands?” Ben shook his head. “Only dead things don’t grow, and you’re not dead.”
“But I am.” She smiled. “I died a very, very long time ago.”
He swallowed hard. “You’re the most alive person I’ve ever met in my life. And despite everything, I’m more alive when I’m with you.”
She put a hand on his cheek. “In my heart, I know there is nothing I wouldn’t give you, Benjamin. Nothing I wouldn’t steal or rob or kill to fulfill your wish. If you asked me, I would destroy the world.”
His heart was in his throat. “I don’t want that, Tenzin.”
“Don’t ask me for my story, Benjamin.” Her eyes shone. “Because eventually I would give it to you, and you would carry it for eternity, not into death and darkness as Nima did.”
Ben lifted his chin. “I want all of you.”
“You have me.” She spread her arms. “As no other has. Can you accept that without asking for more? When I tell you that the blood of Temur is part of a story you do not want and would never understand, can you accept that?”
Can you accept me?
It was far more than secrets she was asking to keep. It was the dark shadows of a life that had transformed her in infinite and frightening ways, lives she had taken, sacrifices she had made, and skin she had shed and shed again, only to become the creature—the woman—he could not live without.
Can you accept that?
“Yes.” His heart was heavy, but he wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest. “I can.”
Because turning away from her? It wasn’t an option he could face.
Chapter Fourteen
The reception for Elder Han’s mate was scheduled to begin at midnight, but with Tai’s help, Ben and Tenzin snuck away from the palace an hour after dusk to meet with Jeong, the elderly daoshi who ran the grain storage and mill works for Penglai.
She met them at the eastern gate of the monastery, wearing a black robe with a light grey woolen shirt underneath. She was wrinkled, but her posture was erect and her smile lit up her face. Her silver hair was coiled into a neat bun on top of her head, and a black cap perched atop it. She held a bright brass lantern that illuminated the path for human eyes.
“Greetings to you, Mistress Tenzin and Master Benjamin, esteemed children of Elder Zhang.” She bowed and rose to meet their eyes. “Tai has informed me that you have an interest in the grain works and how the provisions for the island are apportioned.”
“We do, Daoshi Jeong. Thank you for meeting with us.”
She showed them into the monastery grounds, and Ben saw a stretch of fields and neatly divided plots, demonstrating that the monastery garden was far more of a farm than a pleasure garden. Though there were trees and plants everywhere, nearly all of them looked to be edible in some way.
They passed a huge field of cabbage on their right bordered by a line of fruit trees that were bare from winter chill. The smell of frost and winter herbs greeted his nose, and he could scent onions somewhere in the distance.
“As you can see, we don’t grow grain here, but our vegetable garden fulfills most of the needs of the palace. It helps, of course, that many of our residents don’t eat heavy meals.” Her eyes twinkled in the lamplight.
“I confess,” Tenzin said, “we have different appetites than the devout.”
“But the food is still amazing,” Ben said. “Even though we don’t eat much. The vegetable soup here is the best in the world.”
“You’re very kind, Master Benjamin.”
“Please just call me Benjamin.”
“Of course I cannot,” Jeong said smoothly. “The stone building in the center of the monastery is the mill, and the storehouses are behind it. The current mill was built around two hundred years ago with millstones brought from the mainland. It has served us well. I believe there are two smaller mills on Set and Jogé, but they are not as large as ours. They are used mostly for local festivals.”
Ben and Tenzin followed Jeong through the garden paths, heading for a hulking building that dominated the center of the modest community. Ben could see numerous animal stables next to it, and the shadow of men and women passing each other with small lanterns as they made their way home for the evening.
“Thank you for the sacrifice of your time, Daoshi,” Tenzin said. “We know your day usually ends at dusk.”
“Our day is short this time of year,” Jeong said. “And the night is long. To accomplish our work, some nighttime activity is necessary. I am at your service, Mistress Tenzin.”
“The mills are run by horses?” Ben heard them neighing from the stables.
“Mules,” Jeong said. “They are the hardest working. There are many horses on the island, but they are mostly used for riding or horse carts.”
Ben remembered the carpenter and the broken harness. Since there were no cars on the islands, people only moved around on foot, by boat, or by horse.
“The horses and mules contribute to the garden,” Tenzin said.