With Qian-Ling denied to him, the Khan decided he would take the rest of the world. There had been a story in the village of someone like their common ancestor Tian Dao Lin, coming from the west a long time ago and disappearing into the mountain-tomb with Tian Dao Lin. The Khan led his forces in that direction.
He conquered Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, Afghanistan, and most of Persia. He sacked the great city of Samarkand, slaughtered every single one of its inhabitants, and killed the Sultan Muhammad in 1220. He continued west, farther than any Mongol had ever been, deep into Caucasia, where he defeated a combined Russian-Turkish army. While he was doing that, the Chinese once again revolted. Realizing it was as impossible to maintain such a large empire as to enter Qian-Ling, the Khan staged his own “death” in August 1227.
A handpicked group of twelve warriors took his body to a hidden location to be buried. The night before the burial, the Khan killed all twelve and buried their bodies.
Then he mounted his horse and rode to the west, fading into history and legend.
He went to the fledgling city of Moscow, where he assumed a new identity. One of many he would have over the ages until he was finally known as Adrik.
CHAPTER 10
Nosferatu woke to familiar darkness. He was in an Airlia tube, of that there was no doubt. He had spent so much of his life in one, he could sense the dimensions of his prison. However, it wasn’t his tube, of that he was also certain. He reached up and, as he feared, the lid was secured from the outside.
He tried to recall what had happened. China. Tian Dao Lin. Qian-Ling. The large bronze doors locked, the dead Quarters. The gold spider. Then the Airlia with the spears. That was it. His last memory. They had captured him. The feeling of despair was brought up short by the next thought — why hadn’t they simply killed him? And then — was Nekhbet still alive in the deep sleep in her tube?
Nosferatu reached up and felt his neck. A shunt was in place, but he couldn’t remember having been fed. So why am I still alive? And how long have I been in here? This was the first time he could recall being awake. He reached farther up and felt the crown on his head and his panic came back. How long have I been asleep?
He heard movement, someone touching the tube, then the top swung up. Nosferatu could only make out a form leaning over him. Hands removed the crown from his head and the leads to the muscle exercisers around his body. Nosferatu blinked, trying to adjust his eyes. The lighting was very dim, but it still hurt his pupils. He could tell from the form that it appeared to be a human who had opened the tube. The man put a hand on Nosferatu’s shoulder and pulled him to an upright position.
Nosferatu looked around. He was in a room with a half dozen black tubes. A black wall made of some strange material was to his right. He turned back to his left, where the man that had awakened him was opening another tube. The man was short, less than five and a half feet in height. He wore a richly embroidered silk robe with images of fire-breathing dragons sewn into it. In one hand he held a spear, like the ones used to overpower Nosferatu and Tian Dao Lin.
Nosferatu was not surprised to see his fellow Undead sit up in the other tube. The man who had freed them turned back to Nosferatu. Though the man was short, his eyes indicated he wasn’t completely human, as they were the red-within-red cat eyes of the Airlia. A One Who Waits.
“I am Ts’ang Chieh, court official to the most noble Emperor ShiHuangdi, Commander of all the World, the Hidden Ruler whose reign goes from rising to setting sun and beyond.” He stepped closer. “ShiHuangdi was Artad’s Shadow. Do you know what a Shadow is?”
“I’ve met Aspasia’s Shadow,” Nosferatu said. “We know.”
“How long have I slept?”
Ts’ang Chieh glanced at the display at the head of the tube. “One thousand, seven hundred and thirty years.”
Nekhbet. It was all Nosferatu could think of as the impact of those numbers sank in. He was consoled by the knowledge that she was in the deep sleep and would not have been aware of the passage of time, just as he had not.
Of course, there was the danger of some natural disaster having overtaken her hiding place in the Mountains of the Moon, but Nosferatu knew he could not dwell on that or he would go insane.
“Who is this Emperor ShiHuangdi?” Tian Dao Lin was out of his tube, getting his legs back under him. “Emperor of what?”
“Who was the Emperor ShiHuangdi is the correct phrasing,” Ts’ang Chieh said.
“He combined all the lands to make the Middle Kingdom known to the outside world as China. We are now in the midst of a vast empire stretching from the Yellow Sea to the far mountains of the west.”
“Why have you woken us?” Nosferatu asked. He realized he had jumped over the more important question of why they had been taken alive.
“You are needed,” Ts’ang Chieh said. “Aspasia’s Shadow is causing trouble in the West. The truce is threatened. The new Emperor, Yongle — acting on my advice and the wishes of the God whose name must not be spoken — is mounting an expedition to maintain the truce. You both will accompany it.”
“For what purpose?” Nosferatu asked. “To kill Aspasia’s Shadow.”
"The emperor must be taking the threat quite seriously,” Nosferatu said, as he and Tian Dao Lin stood next to Ts’ang Chieh on top of the harbor watch tower and peered out over the fleet. A forest of masts crowned the flotilla, which stretched as far as they could see to the mouth of the harbor and beyond. They had traveled from Qian-Ling to Nanking in style, an imperial escort guarding them the entire way.
“Three hundred and seventeen ships,” Ts’ang Chieh said. “Crewed by 27,870 sailors and soldiers. The commander, whose ship you will be on, is named Cing Ho. He knows of your nature and your mission. He will get you as close to Aspasia’s Shadow as he can.”
“And then?”Tian Dao Lin asked.
“You kill Aspasia’s Shadow.” Ts’ang Chieh reached inside his cloak and removed two swords in sheaths engraved with High Runes. He extended them grip first to the two Undead. Nosferatu and Tian Dao Lin took the weapons. “But”—Ts’ang Chieh drew the word out—“before you kill him, you must find out where his lair is and enter. You must go there and kill the clone that is waiting to replace him. If you do not do that, after a certain amount of time the clone will automatically be reborn to replace him and your efforts will have been in vain. And I am certain the new Aspasia’s Shadow will extract vengeance on whoever slew the previous one.”
Nosferatu glanced at Tian Dao Lin. “And why should we do these things for you?”
“You are not doing them for me,” Ts’ang Chieh said. “You are doing them for Artad. He let you live so many years ago when you invaded Qian-Ling. He could just as easily have had you killed.”
“Why not have your Ones Who Wait do this task?” Nosferatu asked, remembering the creature that had tried to kill him in Athens.
“The Ones Who Wait suffered a terrible defeat a while ago,” Ts’ang Chieh said. “It will take many years for them to regain their ability to counter Aspasia’s Shadow.”
Nosferatu wondered what kind of defeat and in what form, but Ts’ang Chieh had no more patience with questions or delays. “If you do not agree to perform these tasks, you will be killed right here immediately. Admiral Cing Ho has other orders, and he will, shall we say, execute them if you stray from your mission.”