Returning to the packed lower floor, Chang-li searched through the crowd until he found Min. Her face lit up as he approached. They drifted together toward the edge of the crowd, where Chang-li briefly described dinner and then asked Min how she had made out.

  Min looked grim. “I can only help those who want help,” she said quietly. “Sooner or later, they’re all going to end up married.”

  He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “It was the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said softly. “I love you, Min. I might have been trapped at the beginning, but I didn’t stay in the marriage because I had to. I did it because I wanted you. I wanted us.”

  Her mask of control fell away, and Min looked up at him, suddenly vulnerable and trembling. “Me too,” she said. “I know we started out rocky, but… I’m so glad to be here with you now.”

  He squeezed her hand, since dragging her off to a private room and ripping her clothes off seemed like it probably wasn’t the right choice just now. “Then have faith in our acolytes, Min. Maybe they need this, too.”

  Together they strolled through the crowd, greeting people, trying to look unworried, while Chang-li’s mind raced. What would the second challenge be? How could he manage?

  The gong rang once. Twice. Three times. Chang-li tensed. Min leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Good luck,” she whispered.

  “Come watch?”

  She hesitated, clearly torn, then gave a quick nod. “I’m not actually accomplishing anything here anyway.” They joined the stream of senior cultivators from the other sects heading to the second floor.

  The scenery had changed again. Now blocks of white marble, six feet tall and two feet across, stood in the room. Between the blocks were copper basins filled with water, or a deep red liquid that, from the smell, was wine.

  Cloth hung from the ceiling, white shrouds, flickering in the lightest breath of air. Caged birds sat around the edges of the room, singing. Their brilliant plumage was a stark contrast to the white of the marble and cloth.

  Chang-li and Min joined Joshi and Hiroko. “What’s this?” he murmured. “Do you know?”

  “It’s an invocation,” Hiroko whispered back. “A chance for high-ranking cultivators to demonstrate their skill with the Spiritual luxes. With these ingredients, the cultivator shapes a weave which shall either invoke the senses featured here, or make use of them in order to highlight their skill.”

  “Which means what exactly?” Joshi asked.

  Chang-li was glad he had said that, since Chang-li was thinking the same thing.

  “It’s... complicated,” Hiroko said, scowling. “I’ve seen it done, but not since I became a cultivator myself.”

  “We’ll have to watch and do our best,” Chang-li said grimly as the Grandmasters of the other sects strode to the center of the circle.

  Grandmaster Ahren stepped forward, smiling in a cold, cruel way. “For the benefit of those members of Morning Mist who have not had the advantage of a classical education: this is how cultivators demonstrate their inner spark. Just as a painter can take simple pigments and brushes and create masterpieces that invoke the wonders of nature, the truth of art, or as musicians take instruments crafted of wood and sheep’s gut and compose songs that lift the soul, or dancers use their own bodies to do arts beyond what the human form seems capable of, so cultivators are also artists.

  “But we do not need to use such crude media. We have the purity of lux to invoke. This challenge is simple. Each sect will choose one representative. That cultivator will take inspiration from these objects and craft a lux weave. The three Dowagers will rank each weave on its complexity, its tightness, and its invoking of the suggested elements. Whoever scores the highest wins. For my sect: Cultivator Qi Shai.”

  A tall man with sharp features and a dark goatee stepped forward. He bowed to the Dowagers before standing straight.

  The other sects named their champions. Chang-li noted that Climbing Vines chose Young Master Jiang, whose name had come up at dinner time. He was apparently a Lux Endowment cultivator.

  “You’d best do this,” Joshi said in a low voice. “I haven’t any idea what they’re talking about.”

  “Neither do I,” Chang-li said. But he swallowed down his protests and nodded. “I agree.” This did seem more in his line of expertise than Joshi's. At least they would be permitted to wait until last.

  “Clear the circle,” Master Ahren directed. Cultivators all drew back to a line marked around the edge of the room.

  Cultivator Qi strode forward until he stood in the center. He raised his hands. Chang-li focused with his lux senses. Qi began by drawing green lux from his core. He layered it with blue, which made sense.

  Any weave to meet this challenge would necessarily make heavy use of blue lux, and now Chang-li was regretting how much he had used. As the other cultivator drew out more and more, Chang-li’s heart sank. He had a reserve of blue, it was true, but he was nearly out.

  Hiroko slipped between him and Joshi. She pressed something into his hand. “Here,” she whispered.

  Even as Chang-li watched Cultivator Qi, he glanced down. There was the lux battery Hiroko had taken from the Heart of Ice. It was brimming with blue lux. Gratefully, he withdrew until his core brimmed over, then handed it back to her.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  “I want my sect to have a good showing,” she said fiercely.

  To his surprise, Qi next layered in some yellow lux. Chang-li frowned. Elemental lux didn’t seem like an obvious choice here. The weave took shape. Chang-li felt its edges seeping into his awareness. He reinforced his will, pushing back on the weave.

  The sect leaders frowned. “Cultivator Wu, you are in danger of committing a social faux pas,” Dowager Nima said softly. “You imply, by shutting out the influence of your fellow cultivator’s weave, that he means you harm, even though this has been stated as a cultivation challenge.”

  Chang-li's own thoughts were angry. How could this be a challenge? The other sects had criticized Morning Mist at dinner for a perceived crudity, implying that they had defeated Tower Guardians by brute strength. Yet their own cultivation focused on ridiculous subtleties. If that was what it meant to be a charter sect, he would have no part of it.

  Beside him, Min was standing stiff and straight. He could feel her own will as she forced herself to open to the weave's influence. Reluctantly, Chang-li let down his defenses just as Cultivator Qi added a hint of indigo and violet lux to his creation.

  The world around them changed.

  Chang-li was standing in a deep forest glen. Hints of scent wafted from around the trees. Each of the trees was stock still, even though a breeze rustled through. Their trunks and branches were pure white, like the marble pillars had been, their leaves shining. Drops of jade and purple birdsong wove through the air.

  He felt peaceful. Part of his mind fought against the sensations, urging him to be alert, to be prepared for an attack.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  The birdsong intensified, weaving itself into a single melody. Then, from out of the trees, stepped a trio of gleaming beings. Wearing thin white robes that seemed to meld into their upper torsos, they looked human, though strangely featureless, their faces and eyes blank. They had two arms each. Their lower bodies were a blur, the robes melding into their legs and concealing what might lie beneath their waists.

  Each had light woven around their heads like long, flowing lux of hair. They sang the same melody that had pervaded everywhere, weaving in and out among the trees. Their music touched him deeply, stirring something inside him.

  The vision faded away. They stood in the chamber once more. All of the other cultivators were applauding, Min and Hiroko among them. Chang-li hurriedly put his own hands together, a polite series of claps.

  The three Dowagers nodded appreciatively.

  “Well done, Cultivator Qi,” Nima said. “You receive a score of nine for the realism and inclusion of the details we gave you. Your lux weave was a bit loose, though, so we will award you only six out of ten points for tightness, but a full ten for complexity.”

  Qi smiled, putting his hands together and bowing. He shot Chang-li a challenging glance, then stepped back.

  Next, it was the turn of a woman from Light of Stars, Young Mistress Shi, who stepped forward and began her own weave.

  It, too, used a great deal of blue lux. She wove in red rather than the yellow that Qi had featured. The structure of the weave looked entirely different when she added in her hints of violet and indigo and flung it around them.

  Chang-li found himself frozen in place. His body wouldn't move. His eyes were all he could move. He glanced down at his own hands and saw they were white marble.

  A gleaming light appeared in the center of the room, then transformed into a mirrored ball. Light shone from it, all different colors. Chang-li could see himself in it, transfigured into a marble statue. All the rest of the participants in this challenge were there too, each a statue recognizable by their features in the white marble. Min was frozen next to him, her mouth slightly open.

  Chang-li felt a swelling of horror and hatred. The room filled with jewel-toned lights. He heard the distant birdsong, but the birds sounded despondent. Chang-li fought against the illusion. Even remembering the Dowager's words didn't help.

  He felt it crack under his will.

  The world transformed again. The crowd stood transfigured, but they were flesh and blood, not marble. He took a deep, shuddering breath and caught Dowager Nima looking at him intently.

  A moment later, everyone else returned to normal, applauding Cultivator Shi.

  Nima took a deep breath.

  “You had very efficient use of lux and your vision was engrossing. But you did not make full use of the elements,” she said. “Your total score is eighteen.”

  Hiroko whispered to Chang-li, “Do you see how this is done?”

  “Maybe you could take my place,” Chang-li said back as the other sects brought forth their next candidate.

  “I'm not an official member yet,” Hiroko said. “It won't be permitted. But listen…” She bit her lip. “I think I can help with the blue weave if you'll let me.”

  “Anything you can do will help,” Chang-li said fervently.

  The final competitor was Young Master Jiang. Chang-li recalled Dowager Nabiki mentioning him at dinner as her sister's son and the favored heir of his sect. He strode confidently into the center of the room and rolled up his sleeves, pulling lux from his core and slamming it together in an arrogant, powerful way.

  Chang-li admired his weave. This one was blue and green, without any of the physical luxes at all. If Chang-li could have had a week to study what they were doing, he thought he would be able to understand it and produce at least as good a weave as any of these.

  Since the cultivators were all required to lower their wills enough to allow the weave to affect them, there didn’t need to be the kind of subtlety with the blue lux that Hiroko was so deft at.

  That gave Chang-li an idea.

  He leaned over, whispered to Hiroko. Her eyes went wide. “That would be cheating.”

  Chang-li said grimly, “Yes. But if we're good enough, we won't get caught.”

  “And if we fail?” Hiroko breathed.

  “I think it's worth a shot,” Chang-li said.

  Jiang cast his weave over the crowd. This time Chang-li was ready. He allowed the weave to do its work on his mind, while holding on with just the faintest trace of his own will. This is an illusion. Accept it, and know it is empty.

  The white pillars were transformed to thin spiring towers, curling skyward like the shell of some strange sea-creature. The flowing cloth became streamers, waving in a jasmine-scented breeze. Jeweled birds darted between the spires, fluting their notes, as each of the towers split into petal that peeled back and revealed a copper core that fountained out crystal-clear water. Chang-li felt peace wash over himself. He let it touch him, knowing it was an illusion. He let out a long slow breath.

  The room returned to normal. Chang-li applauded with the others. For the first time, he genuinely appreciated the art here. It was like painting, or verse. The formal elements transformed and transposed to create beauty. He was missing its subtleties. From the murmurs all around, the other cultivators picked up on a lot of elements that he did not. That was fine. He let some of his resentment for the charter sects slip. Yes, this had been an ambush, but they were right; this was something Morning Mist knew nothing about.

  “Well done, Cultivator,” Dowager Nima said. “You receive a score of 28.”

  Jiang bowed. He flashed a tight challgening smile to Chang-li.

  This would be a hard act to follow. He strode forward, conscious of every eye on him. Chang-li drew the reserves of blue lux Hiroko had given him. He closed his eyes and began constructing while Hiroko’s voice whispered in his ear, using a technique similar to Min's Thousand Whispers.

  “Use yellow to reinforce the blue. Make the blue into hollow tubes. Now weave together three strands of blue and one of green. I want you to lace a hint of red into that green to give it some body. There. Now those four strands, pleat together and fold them over. Create a torus. Good. We'll weave in the violet and indigo next. Give us plenty of indigo there. No, ” Hiroko sounded frustrated. “Not like that. You've got the blue all out of balance. You've got to enforce it!”

  Chang-li gritted his teeth, sweat dripping down his brow as he tried to control the weave. It was slipping out of his control. He didn't understand what he was doing here. Trying to follow Hiroko's whispered instructions wasn't working. He'd have been better off just trying to do this on his own.

  The weave was taking on new life of its own, fighting against him. He'd had that happen a handful of times when trying to use techniques described in the scrolls that he didn't yet understand. His own will worked against him.

  It was the double-edged nature of his Intent. He realized he was so focused on mastery, on taking a concept and making it truly his own, that it was hard for him to use a technique he did not properly understand.

  The misshapen weave was slipping from his grasp. It was now or never.

  Chang-li unleashed his weave. It washed over the receptive room. He held his breath. His own weave wasn't going to do anything more than perhaps invoke the sounds of the birds in the room, but Hiroko's more subtle blue influence had filled it. He was desperately hoping that the other cultivators wouldn't notice.

  With their wills lowered, Hiroko's blue lux touched their minds and settled there. Chang-li was unaffected. He watched as it took shape, the room freezing as all the spectators' eyes went vacant.

  Beside him, Min was frozen.

  Chang-li dared to hope this would work.

  Then he noted that Dowager Nima was staring right at him, a bit of a crook in her smile. "Very clever," Nima said coolly. "But did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

  Everyone else was still frozen in place.

  "No," Chang-li said boldly. "I didn't. My sect is in a competition we never asked for, arranged by our enemies. They chose challenges designed to make us look bad. All I did was change the terms of the arrangement."

  Nima nodded. "Such audacity is both expected and appreciated in a high-ranking cultivator. However, before I make my judgment, I want to know, is this what Morning Mist is all about? Trickery, flummery, concealing your true strengths?"

  "Absolutely," Chang-li said without hesitation. "The Morning Mist conceals." He had learned that from Noren, at least.

  Nima frowned. "You say that, but I feel your Intent is mismatched."

  Chang-li gawked at her. He took a moment to recover. Nima was right. This sort of illusion and cheating did go directly against his Intent. What good was it to claim to master if he had to resort to letting someone else do the work for him? His core seemed to pulse with an out-of-sequence note.

  "Well, you won't be permitted to win, but I will say that I at least admire your gumption. You might need to consider who you and your sect are when all of that mist is blown away," Dowager Nima said.

  Chang-li's core resonated. He tried to keep the shock off of his face. What she had said struck him hard. There was a meaning there, something important. He grasped for it, but Nima dismissed the weave, and the spectators returned to the present.

  "Morning Mist's total score is a fifteen," Dowager Nima announced. Chang-li's heart sank. That was the lowest of any of the sects. Well, he had tried to gamble, and he had lost.

  As Patriarch Ahren and Matriarch Shu pressed in on him, he produced the mirror as promised and handed it over. Shu's hands closed around it greedily. Ahren was merely looking smug as he announced that this was just as everyone had expected.

  Joshi had vanished. The dowagers crooked a finger and summoned Hiroko to their side. Chang-li took a deep breath. All he wanted was to get out of here. Min's hands closed around his arm. "Come," she murmured. "We still have hours more of this until dawn."

  "I don't care. I'm not staying here another moment."

  "Yes, you are.”

  "I've humiliated us," he hissed.

  "No." Min shook her head. "All of them here understand what you just did. You took their challenges and refused to lose on their terms. You've saved us a great deal of face. That matters far more than the mirror ever did. Now come down with me, and we'll get through the rest of the evening together."

  He clenched his jaw, but deferred to her wishes. Together, they descended to the ground floor.