‘You are a small, square, green creep,’ I said.
The stone was silent.
‘Still worried?’ John said.
‘Oh no, nothing to worry about. There aren’t any demons after us, you aren’t on the edge of losing your life, Leo isn’t dying, Simone is quite ready for both of you to go, and I’m absolutely nothing out of the ordinary,’ I said. ‘Everything is perfectly peachy.’
‘Come and do a slow set with me,’ he said, pulling himself up from the couch. ‘Something nice and yin.’
I ran my hands through my hair. ‘God, you hate me, Xuan Wu.’
‘You know I don’t,’ he said softly as he opened the door.
A week later I got a call from our doctor, Regina Chow. ‘Come on down to the infirmary, please, Emma. I have the results of your test.’
My stomach fell out.
‘Sit, Emma,’ Regina said when I arrived at her office. Regina was a delightful Chinese human in her mid-twenties who lived with one of the Mountain dragon staff. She closed the door behind me. ‘Before we do anything else, the result was negative. No sign of the virus at all. You’re clear.’
I sagged with relief. ‘Thanks,’ I said, and rose to leave.
‘Wait, Emma,’ she said gently.
I flopped back into my chair. I knew what she was going to say.
‘Sometimes it takes a while for the virus to appear. Up to six months. You will need to come back for another test then.’
‘I know,’ I said.
She sighed. ‘Also…’ She shuffled the papers on her desk. ‘I’m sorry, Emma, but the test was really a waste of time. I asked Leo to provide a sample too, and of course he’s clear as well.’
‘I understand,’ I said. ‘Waste of time testing me again until Xuan Wu is gone.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, not looking up from the papers.
‘Why? This isn’t your fault.’
She smiled sadly at me. ‘You have enough misery in your life without this adding to it.’
‘I’m not miserable,’ I said. ‘Right now, if I had the choice, I would not be anywhere else doing anything else. Here and now, I’m happy. The future can take care of itself.’
‘You sound like one of the Immortals,’ Regina said.
‘Yep, most of them are pretty stupid too.’
I sat in the back of my car with the door open, reading a book. The late May weather wasn’t hot but summer was just around the corner and there was a humid edge to the air. I was waiting to pick Simone up from school.
Gold appeared in the front passenger seat.
‘Yes?’
Gold’s face was rigid as he studied me.
‘What’s the matter, Gold?’
‘Lady Emma, may I hold your hand, please?’ he said, his face still rigid.
I shrugged and held my hand out. He examined me carefully, then sighed, dropped my hand, and ran his hands over his face. ‘Thank the Heavens.’
‘It’s me, Gold,’ I said.
‘When does school finish?’ he said, turning to face the front of the car.
‘In about twenty minutes.’
He concentrated, then nodded. Obviously he’d just talked to somebody.
‘My Lady, I think it’s important that we take the Princess and the young guard home immediately. There are…’ He hesitated. ‘There are people there that wish to see you.’
‘What do you mean?’ I said, bewildered.
Trust him, Emma. Take them out of class and bring them home now. You are needed here immediately.
I felt a shock of concern. ‘What the hell is going on? Is everybody okay?’
Gold smiled slightly. ‘Everybody is fine. This is not a Celestial matter.’ He shrugged. ‘The police are at the Peak and wish to see you.’
‘Gold, pass this on to Lord Xuan for me?’ Gold nodded and I continued. ‘Tell me what the hell is going on right now or you are in serious trouble.’
John’s voice was amused. They found you dead in a dumpster in Kowloon City. They want me to identify the body. They also think I killed you and they want to take me in for questioning. Come home, I think.
I flung down the book, leaped out of the car and bolted up the stairs into the school.
The police were in the living room with John. They all turned to me as we walked in.
‘Go into your room and do something, Simone,’ I said softly.
‘Okay, Emma,’ Simone said, just as softly.
Michael followed her down the hallway, his back rigid. He didn’t want to attract any police attention; they might have a file on him because of his brief connection with the gangs.
The police rose. There were two of them: a European in his mid-fifties, obviously quite senior from the amount of metal on his uniform; and a younger Chinese male with the red shoulder flash indicating that his English was good.
I nodded to both of them and they sat. I shared a glance with John and he shrugged without saying anything. I couldn’t sit down next to John—we’d be too close—so I remained standing. This body language wasn’t good but I had no choice. John was unaware of the problem; he was probably still getting over the shock of the police arriving at his front door to tell him that I was dead.
‘I’m Inspector Parry, Miss Donahoe,’ the older police officer said. He gestured to the younger man. ‘Sergeant Cheung.’
I nodded to both of them, then had an inspiration. I wandered over to John’s couch and leaned casually on the side, folding my arms over my chest. Much more acceptable body language. The stupid damn Turtle still didn’t get the message. Obviously shell-shocked. I smiled slightly.
‘I got a message to come home,’ I said. ‘Is there a problem? My visa is fine.’
‘Nothing like that,’ the inspector said. ‘We found the body of a young European woman in a dumpster in Kowloon City. Sorry to be blunt about it, but the corpse was quite badly mutilated, and when we compared the face to the ID card records it seemed to match you.’ He turned to John. ‘I don’t think you’ll need to come with us now, sir.’
‘You have my details; please feel free to call me any time,’ John said, very calm. ‘I’d be happy to help you any way I can.’
‘Both of you were hospitalised recently,’ the Chinese sergeant said. He held a thick manila folder with papers inside. Damn; there was a file on us. The policeman looked at John. ‘You were kidnapped January last year.’ He flipped through the papers and glanced at me. ‘You were attacked last October, and hospitalised with head injuries.’
John and I were both speechless. Think quickly, Emma.
‘I’m sure the police are doing their best to keep the streets of Hong Kong safe,’ I said mildly, turning the problem back to them. ‘Fortunately, neither of us was badly injured when we were attacked. John…’ I glanced quickly at him. ‘Mr Chen was kidnapped, but we paid the ransom and got him back. And the guy who attacked me last October was after my handbag. When I wouldn’t give it to him he laid into me.’
The sergeant flipped through the file. ‘At the time you said you couldn’t remember anything.’
I tried to stay calm. ‘No, that’s not correct. I said that I was attacked by a young man, thirty-ish, well-dressed, good-looking. I even sat with the identikit policeman and we did a sketch of the guy.’
And they’d never picked Simon Wong up, even though they had to know he was the head of all the underworld activity in the Territory. I wondered if it was incompetence, or they didn’t have enough on him, or it was something more sinister.
‘Maybe you should be looking for those who attacked us, instead of interrogating us,’ John said, matching my mild tone.
‘What happened to the woman in Kowloon City?’ I said, deliberately changing the subject.
‘There wasn’t enough left of her to work out exactly what happened to her,’ the inspector said. ‘But she appeared to have been poisoned.’
Demon. The essence comes up as poison. Wonder why it didn’t disintegrate? May have been a hybrid.
I tried to control my face. ‘Anything else?’
The inspector rose. The sergeant hesitated, unhappy, then rose too.
‘Nothing else. Sorry to take up your time. But the body in Kowloon City did look a lot like you. You don’t have any relatives here, by any chance?’ the inspector said.
‘No,’ I said. ‘Must just be a coincidence. That poor woman. I wonder what happened to her.’
The inspector smiled, suddenly paternal. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll track them down.’ He sobered. ‘Next time somebody tries to grab your handbag, just give it to them, okay?’
I shrugged and rose to show them out. ‘Sure. I don’t know what I was thinking, refusing to give it to him. Just overconfident, I guess.’
‘Some of these young thugs are trained in martial arts,’ the inspector said. ‘Kung fu, you know? Be careful. Some of them look small and harmless, but can kill you with their bare hands.’
‘Really?’ I said, feigning astonishment. ‘I thought that was all movie stuff.’
The inspector grinned. ‘Don’t worry, we keep a close eye on their activities. If they’re learning martial arts, then we know about it. We know the location of every school in the Territory and watch them closely.’
‘That’s reassuring,’ I said, carefully controlling my expression. ‘I’m glad you’re on top of it.’
‘Sorry to take up your time,’ the inspector said to John, who nodded.
I guided them out, closed the door behind them, and sagged.
I was so worried about you, love. I’m too weak to sense anything. I had no idea.
‘If Wong had a copy of me then why did he kill it?’ I said as I fell onto one of the sofas.
‘Maybe it died,’ John said. ‘But I don’t like the concept of him copying you at all. I’ve never seen that done before. Shapeshifters, yes. But not copies.’
‘We should get together and work out a set of identifying codewords,’ I said. ‘We need to do it right away.’
John’s eyes unfocused, and then he rose to guide me into the dining room.
‘Oh, and next time, try to remember. I can’t sit next to you on the couch,’ I said wearily, ‘it’s too close. That looked really bad, me standing over them like that. Next time move so that I can sit.’
‘I’ll send someone to buy a matching armchair for the living room,’ John said. ‘You are quite correct, I was totally unaware.’
‘Were you that upset?’ I said softly as he opened the door to the dining room.
He didn’t look at me. ‘Yes.’
‘You weren’t sure everything would be okay? I thought you would know.’
‘I don’t know everything,’ he said, sitting in one of the dining chairs and resting his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. ‘Nobody does. The future isn’t fixed, it’s moving all the time.’
‘We’ll get there,’ I whispered as Simone and Michael entered. The grim expressions on both their faces made them look much older.
John didn’t say anything.
Later I had the chilling realisation: it had probably been a toy.
CHAPTER TWENTY
On Saturday evening I was in my room when the sound of the television blasted out. It was guitar music, a sweet riff that meandered through the scales, but Simone had it awfully loud. I hesitated before I went in to ask her to turn it down; I was enjoying it, but John would want the volume lowered if he was meditating.
I opened the door to the television room and found Simone directly on the other side, about to emerge. ‘You need to turn that down, Simone,’ I said. ‘If you’re going out, don’t forget to turn the television off.’
‘It’s not on,’ Simone said. ‘That’s Daddy.’
I turned and listened. ‘That’s Daddy?’
She nodded. ‘I’ve never heard him play that before. I didn’t know it was his.’
We went to the music room together, and hesitated outside.
‘Let’s leave him,’ I said.
Come on in.
We shrugged and entered. The music stopped.
‘Don’t stop, Daddy,’ Simone said. ‘I like it.’
John returned the black electric guitar to its stand, then switched off the amp in the corner. ‘You do? I’m awfully rusty.’
‘That was rusty?’ I said. ‘That was wonderful.’
‘You both like it?’ he said. ‘Michelle…’ He stopped.
‘Mummy didn’t like it?’ Simone said.
John didn’t say anything, he just shook his head.
‘Well,’ I said, ‘we like it, so you’re going to play it for us right now.’
‘Yeah,’ Simone said, climbing on the piano stool. ‘Play for us.’
I leaned against the stand holding the guzheng, next to the wall. It was a horizontal stringed instrument, similar to a Western zither. ‘Do you play this too?’ I said, ‘I really like guzheng.’ I plucked one of the strings absently.
‘No, Emma!’ Simone shouted, but it was too late.
The force of the blast threw me across the room and I slammed side-on into the piano. The keys hit me in the ribs and I fell over.
John and Simone both rushed to me.
‘Careful you don’t touch her, Daddy,’ Simone said as she took my hand. ‘Now it’s okay.’
‘Are you badly injured?’ John said with concern, taking my other hand.
I checked myself internally. ‘Cracked ribs and a bruised liver. Give me a couple of minutes to heal it and I’ll be as good as new.’
Neither of them said anything; they just held my hands and watched me as I started to move the energy.
‘What hit me?’ I said as I moved the energy through my ribs.
‘That is the Celestial guzheng,’ John said. ‘The one that carries the Mark—’
‘—of Six Fingers? That’s Six Fingers’ guzheng?’ I said, my voice hoarse.
‘I thought you knew,’ he said.
‘That thing’s legendary.’
‘So am I,’ John said with amusement. ‘I think you’ve ruined the piano. The whole front of it is smashed in.’
‘Yay! No piano practice!’ Simone cried with glee.
‘Simone, are you okay?’ I said.
‘I’m fine,’ Simone said. ‘Somehow it went right through me and didn’t touch me.’
Leo tapped on the door and entered. He stopped when he saw us. ‘What the hell happened here?’
Simone giggled. ‘Silly Emma touched the guzheng.’
‘You were supposed to tell me what to avoid,’ I said fiercely from the floor. ‘When I first came to work here, you showed me around, but you didn’t mention that thing at all.’
‘Oh, by the way, Miss Donahoe,’ Leo said, moving further into the room to tower over me, ‘the Chinese musical instrument in the music room used to belong to a demon. It’s enchanted, and if you play it, it will destroy just about everything around it, so don’t touch it.’
‘Oh, so now you tell me.’
‘Shut up and heal yourself,’ John said. ‘It’ll take all day if you keep talking like this.’
‘Yeah, Emma, you can talk underwater,’ Simone said cheekily.
John and I shared a look.
‘Leo, take Simone out,’ John said, releasing my hand. ‘I’ll stay here and supervise Emma.’
Neither of them said a word as they left the room.
‘Concentrate, Emma, you can do this,’ John said. ‘Do you want me to put on some music?’
‘Some of your music?’ I said with derision. ‘That would make it take ten times longer.’
‘Suit yourself.’
‘I checked some of that German stuff you play. I found translations to the lyrics. Some of it’s really dark, John.’
‘I only play clean disks,’ John said. ‘Hard as they are to find. And since those ones are in German it doesn’t really matter.’
‘Some of the music you like is very dark.’
‘Dark is my first name.’ He pulled himself up, went out, and quickly return
ed with a cushion from the couch in the television room. He fell to one knee and passed it to me. ‘Put this under your head.’
I pushed the pillow under my head and made myself comfortable on the floor. I moved the energy from my ribs to my liver. A lot of the soft tissue had been crushed and it would take some time to bring it back. I worked carefully; soft tissue was much more fiddly to heal than simple cuts or breaks.
‘Good,’ John said. ‘You’re doing very well.’
‘Have you ever killed a human, John?’
He looked me in the eyes and didn’t say anything.
‘How many?’
He remained silent.
‘When was the last time?’
He flopped onto the floor to sit cross-legged next to me. ‘Nanjing. A long time ago.’
‘Tell me,’ I said softly as I moved the energy through my liver.
‘I’m very old, Emma. I’ve been around for a long time. I am the Arts of War. I am yin incarnate: cold, darkness, death. And times change.’
‘Tell me. Nanjing.’
‘They were mad.’ He looked away. ‘Berserk. Crazed. They killed everything in their path. Some of them did it in cold blood as well.’ He turned back to me. ‘Humans are astonishing sometimes.’
I didn’t say anything.
‘They were killing children,’ he said softly. ‘The children of my people; my children.’
‘How many?’
‘Them or us?’
‘Them.’
He dropped his head. ‘I have no idea.’ He raised his head and gazed at me. ‘A lot.’
‘You protected your children.’
He dropped his head and was silent again.
I concentrated on the energy in my liver. Some of the damage was very deep. I would be sore for a while.
‘They were your children as well,’ I said. ‘They are all subjects of the Eastern Centre.’
‘I know,’ he said softly, almost a moan of pain. ‘And they are all human, regardless of the Centre. They are the ones who seem to ignore that fact the most.’
‘Have you ever killed anyone in cold blood?’
He wiped his hand over his face. ‘Everything I kill, I kill in cold blood, Emma. I am cold-blooded.’