“Oh yes.” Jeong smiled. “It’s all connected. The hay comes from the outer islands when they send the grain. The mules mill the grain, which we send back to the islands that grow it.”
“Why not build mills on the islands that grow the grain?” Ben asked.
“The elders must apportion the supplies to each island,” Jeong said. “Since every island might produce different crops each year, balancing the supply becomes important.”
“And there are islands that don’t grow grain at all, right?” Ben asked. “The fishing islands.”
She nodded. “You understand.”
Jeong pulled the heavy wooden door open and ushered Ben and Tenzin into the stone building. It was freezing with all the workers gone, but he could see large potbellied heaters throughout the building that would warm the mill during the day.
“The grain is bagged on the islands and sent here to the central storehouse. There are five large millstones with five teams that grind the grain throughout the winter season.” She pointed to burlap sacks in a corner. “We bag it and take it to the storage house. From there it is counted and sent back to the islands as they have need.”
They followed her from the massive mill room through a low door they ducked under, which led into another large chamber where the scent of flour, barley, and corn mixed with dust and the scent of straw.
“As you can see, we have many reserves,” Jeong said. “We must ensure that we have enough food for the winter since the vegetables are fewer during the cold season.”
Ben noticed several stacks of grain that looked like they were set on top of modern shipping pallets. They took up an entire corner of the storehouse and appeared to be covered in plastic and covered over with wax cloth tarps.
Ben frowned and asked Jeong, “What are those?” He walked over and drew up a corner of the tarp, noting that the writing on the plastic-wrapped bags was in English. There were three densely stacked pallets of grain, all packaged slightly differently.
Jeong’s face went carefully blank. “Those are supplemental shipments we have received from Master Myung. I believe he was concerned that our local grain would not be enough for the winter.” She smiled. “It was a thoughtful procurement.”
So Myung ordered grain the islands didn’t need even though—to Ben’s eyes—the storehouse looked more than full.
Tenzin was also staring at the shipment from Myung. “Is it milled?”
Ben wondered why she asked.
“Yes, Mistress Tenzin. It is milled and treated. This is not wheat for growing, just for eating.”
Tenzin nodded but said nothing else.
“Thank you, Daoshi.” Ben walked over and nodded at Jeong. “This has been so interesting. Can I ask you where most of the men and women in the order come from?”
“Those who serve in the palace and the monastery?” Jeong asked.
“Yes. Do they come from the mainland? Or do they—?”
“Rarely from the mainland,” Jeong said. “We do have some visiting scholars from libraries and monasteries sponsored by some of the elders like Elder Lu and Elder Han, but they do not work in the fields or the mill. Many of Elder Cao’s immortal children come to work here along with Elder Li’s.”
It made sense that the two earth vampires on the council would have their children working in the gardens.
“But the majority of our brothers and sisters were born right here on the islands. Most families with more than two children will offer one to be raised here at the monastery. The girls with my sisters and me, and the boys with my brothers.”
“When did you join the monastery?” he asked.
“I remember no other home than here,” Jeong said with a peaceful smile. “I have met my mother and father, but my fellow daoshi are my true family.”
“Her parents gave her to the nuns,” he muttered under his breath. “She didn’t choose it.”
Tenzin looked annoyed. “Did she look unhappy?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Isn’t it?”
They were both dressed in their most formal clothing as they stood in the great hall, and both were speaking Spanish instead of Mandarin. Ben knew his sentiments about the monastery and his growing concern with the running of the islands would not be well-received by his mate or the other vampires in the court.
“There are families all over Tibet that also give their sons to the monasteries,” Tenzin said. “Should they not be allowed? Often these are poor people who struggle to feed an additional child. At the monasteries—”
“Not the same thing at all,” he said quietly. “I’ve been told over and over again that all the humans on the islands are well provided for. They have plenty to eat and there is no crime. There are jobs for everyone and no one is left out. So why are families offering up a child to the elders like tribute when they get more than two?”
“If the children don’t want to live in the monastery when they grow up, no one would force them to stay.”
“Would they even know they had options, Tenzin?” He heard the beat of footsteps on the cobblestones outside. “If that’s the only thing you had ever known, would you leave? These are not people who were raised with a plethora of choices in life. This entire system is…”
He didn’t say it, but Tenzin raised her eyebrows. She could read what he was thinking and feeling nearly as quickly as he could.
She turned to face the back of the hall as the gates swung open.
Guarded by saffron-clad monks with gold-trimmed caps and richly adorned robes, the doors to the Hall of the Eight Immortals parted, and the vampires in the room turned as one to see the visiting immortals of the South Pacific arrive in full regalia.
Two lines of a dozen warriors with elaborately tattooed skin led the diplomatic party. They were human and pantomimed fearsome faces at the assembled crowd, beating their thighs and chests, chanting a call-and-response with their leader. Ben and Tenzin had been informed that while the presentation might appear aggressive, this was a traditional greeting from Sina’s court and was intended to honor and respect the host, not intimidate or frighten.
The halls of Penglai were transfixed as a dozen women came behind them, half of them holding traditional spears, blades, and shields and the other half bearing massive baskets of colorful flowers. Their legs were tattooed with geometric patterns, and all of them had masses of dark hair that fell to their waist or longer.
The vampires came next, two immortal warriors with similar appearance to the human warriors, guarding a tall woman Ben guessed had to be Mahina judging from the sudden brightness that came to the normally dour face of Elder Han.
He could immediately tell why Jae had been so impressed with her. She was nearly as tall as Ben, with dark eyes rimmed with thick lashes, full red lips, and tumbled curls that fell past her waist.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen one of our kind who looked more living,” Tenzin said. “She’s a stunning vampire.”
Mahina wore a traditional wrapped dress in shades of orange and brown that set off her skin, which was glowing and still appeared sun-kissed, though she was thousands of years old.
Behind Mahina were two more vampire guards who walked on either side of a small woman, and whatever Ben had imagined Sina’s appearance might be, it was not what he saw.