Kung toyed with his teacup. “It may interest you to know that Alice, Lady Michaels, was captured not long ago in Tehran. In a fascinating turn of events, she turned herself in and claimed the reward for herself.”
“What?”
“My sources are impeccable. Imperial troops are escorting her to Peking even now.”
Cixi realized her thumb was in her mouth and she was gnawing on the nail, a habit her mother had long ago broken in her. She put her hand down. “I think,” she said slowly, “that if Su Shun wants her so badly, we cannot afford to let him have her. I also think that whoever controls Michaels Alice controls the empire.”
“Oh?”
“Think of it. Releasing her cure would abruptly put our empire on equal footing with the West. It would destroy Su Shun’s chances of going to war. The cure destroyed the British Empire’s ability to fight us, after all. Since he is using this war on the West as a distraction from his weak hold on the throne, no war would mean we would have a better chance to unseat him.”
“I concur. And, my lady, I must say I like the way your mind runs. You think on a grand scale, and that is what we need for an empire.”
“Thank you, my prince.”
Zaichun, who hadn’t spoken a word, had finished stuffing himself and was now drooping over his plate. Cixi laid him down on the pillow as she had done many times before with the emperor. He sighed and fell more deeply asleep. Cixi drank more tea.
“So,” she concluded, “we need to divert Lady Michaels and bring her here. Can this be arranged?”
“I will see what I can do,” said Prince Kung.
Chapter Nine
The border guard was a serpentine mechanical dragon, long and segmented and at least a hundred yards in length. Smoky steam puffed from its nostrils, and a metal beard dripped from its chin. Its jaws could easily bite a man in half. Gavin couldn’t see any human controlling it, though he supposed one might be inside. Like the nightingales, it skimmed with lithe grace when it moved. The birds pulled the Lady down to the sands, and the dragon raised its huge head to peer onto the deck. Steam puffed across the ship like a locomotive’s. The whirligigs and spiders made yipping noises and scampered belowdecks. Gavin automatically backed up a step and put his hand on his cutlass, though the glass blade had as much a chance of harming the beast as did a pin of harming a turtle.
Yeh stepped fearlessly up to the dragon, bowed, and spoke to it while the birds huddled in the rigging and on the deck. Once again, Gavin caught words, the same ones as before, and this time emperor, permission, and cross.
“I think I’m learning Chinese,” he murmured to Alice. “Can the plague do that?”
“Shush,” she said.
Alice had to present herself to the dragon, which huffed warm steam over her and blew her skirts about. Gavin held his breath and kept his hand on his useless cutlass, but the dragon seemed satisfied. The dragon spoke to Yeh in a thunderous voice.
“The guardian birds will take you to Kashgar,” it said, and Gavin gasped. The dragon spoke Chinese, but Gavin understood it perfectly well. Definitely a function of the clockwork plague. Yet it hadn’t done this for him in France or Germany or Ukraine. Was it a sign of the disease’s acceleration? If he was learning languages in moments, how much time did he have left?
“Do not leave the ship,” the dragon continued. “Soldiers who are immune to the blessing of dragons will board in Kashgar and accompany you to Peking. If you leave the ship, you will die. Do you understand?”
Yeh bowed again. “Yes, my lord.”
The dragon turned toward Gavin and whuffed out more warm, damp steam. It said in English, “You are. . special.”
Surprised, Gavin said, “Am I?”
“Indeed,” the dragon growled, then dipped its head. “I will alert the proper people.”
“I don’t understand,” Gavin said.
But the dragon merely dropped out of sight. The brass birds sprang back to life and hauled the Lady back into the air while Yeh turned to the three Westerners to translate the dragon’s instructions about not leaving the ship. Gavin thought about doing it himself, then decided to keep to himself the fact that he knew Chinese. Who knew what might be said in front of him if the speakers didn’t know he understood?
Hours later, the city of Kashgar hove into view. Gavin’s nerves hummed with tension. He tried to tell himself that the Chinese wanted Alice alive, that if they wanted her dead, the dragon would have destroyed her in a moment. It didn’t help. Alice appeared cool and unflappable, but he noticed a tightness around her mouth and in her neck.
Just outside high brown city walls, the birds halted the ship and flew away in a chattering metal cloud. The ship lurched under the abrupt change, and Gavin steadied the helm just in time. A cloud of dust emerged from one of the city gates and grew closer. It was caused by a contingent of soldiers-twenty-four of them, at Gavin’s count-on horseback galloping toward the Lady. They wore scarlet coats and carried curved swords. All of them sported metaclass="underline" a brass hand with blades for fingers, iron claws, a fitted monocle like Phipps’s, a pistol mounted on a forearm. At Yeh’s word, Gavin dropped a ladder, and the men swarmed up it while below a groom strung the horses together. The Lady settled lower under the weight again. Alice moved closer to Gavin, and Phipps tensed. One man whose coat was of a different cut came forward. He glanced at Alice, who glanced coolly back. Then he and Yeh bowed to each other, and they spoke at length. Gavin’s understanding grew with every word, like a wireless radio that tuned out more and more static until the signal became clear. It was a strange sensation, and oddly exhilarating.
“This Lieutenant Hing Li,” Yeh translated when they finished. “He and his men stay on ship until we arrive in Peking. No one leaves ship. You try, you killed. You fly ship in direction Lieutenant Li say. You change course, you die. We stop for supplies when he say, and soldiers bring them. You no leave ship. All soldiers have survived blessing of dragons-you say clockwork plague-so cure from Lady Michaels not affect them.”
“They’re survivors,” Gavin said. “That’s why all the metal, isn’t it? The plague crippled them.”
“You Westerners call it a plague,” Yeh spat. “Treat it like a curse instead of honorable blessing. In China, those who survive blessing of dragons bring great honor to families, and as a reward for strength, are allowed to join army or work for empire. Those who become Dragon Men are exalted.”
“So why doesn’t everyone try to contract the plague?” Alice asked.
“Not everyone strong enough to face it,” Yeh replied. “Not everyone strong enough to face death.”
Next, Lieutenant Li handed Yeh a handful of bottle corks, and Yeh turned back to Alice. “You wear these on claws so you not spread cure. You take them off-”
“I die, yes, yes.” Alice accepted the corks and pushed them onto her clawed fingertips with little squeaking sounds. “Is that the only consequence you hand out in China?”
“Only one people listen to.”
The soldiers, meanwhile, spread out all over the ship, over the deck and down below, swarming into every space, every nook, every cranny, calling to one another in coarse Chinese. Gavin could almost feel their greasy fingers running over the Lady’s wood, hear them scraping her decks with their gritty boots, sense their prying eyes. He thought about the reward bonds and the Impossible Cube hidden in their secret compartment and resisted the impulse to check on it. That would only draw attention to the place. His glance met Phipps’s, and he knew she was thinking the same thing.
One of the men came up from below holding Click. The cat hissed and tried to swipe at the man’s arm, but his claws only raked brass. The soldier held Click up by the neck, laughing. Outrage swept over Gavin. Before he could respond, Alice stepped forward and snatched Click from the surprised man’s grasp.