Cixi slowly got to her feet. The Qilin didn’t move. She ran to Zaichun, who was still standing paralyzed by the tunnel wall. For a moment she hesitated. Then she embraced him as a mother.
“My Cricket,” she whispered.
“Mother?” he said into her robe.
She drew back. And how would she cut off his hand now? “We must see to the others.”
The soldiers were all unharmed, of course, though somewhat embarrassed by their superstitious response. Alice struggled to free herself from the wreckage of the brass dragon. Two of the soldiers hurried to help. She was limping slightly and favored one arm, but her sword seemed undamaged. The dragon was a total loss. Other soldiers were rushing over to Lieutenant Li and Lieutenant Phipps. Li was completely unharmed, but Phipps staggered about, and Li insisted she lean on him. Her brass arm trailed the broken wire. Once she recovered herself, she held it out to Alice, who cut the wire off with the sword. Throughout it all, the Qilin didn’t move. It may as well have been a statue in the imperial gardens.
“How did you convince it to do that?” Phipps asked.
Cixi threw the Qilin a glance. “Go farther down the hall.”
Everyone quickly marched past the creature. Its pink brain seemed to stare at them from within the little dome, and Cixi wondered to whom it had belonged. Once the creature was out of hearing range, Cixi said, “It seemed to me that any human brain put into a creature like that would either go mad or survive by making itself believe it truly was a Qilin. And the true Qilin punishes only sinners or doers of evil. I convinced it that we were neither one.”
“That was quite a risk,” Alice said, flexing her wounded arm. “I have to say I am impressed, Lady Orchid.”
“No more than I am impressed by the way you attacked it,” Cixi replied. “Tell me, do all Western women act like you and Lieutenant Phipps?”
Alice gave a laugh at that, the first Cixi had heard from her-or any other foreigner, for that matter. How strange to hear, and to realize that foreigners could laugh, too. “Hardly. Though I wish more of us would.”
From overhead came a thudding noise, as if a giant were stomping about. The vibrations traveled through the tunnel stones up through Cixi’s feet. She exchanged looks with Lieutenant Li and knew he was thinking the same thing-Su Shun was making the Dragon Men work long and hard into the night on the machines of war.
They encountered two more sets of eunuchs, but all of them were amenable to the bribes Cixi offered them. In the end, they arrived at a pair of wide lacquered doors guarded by eight robed eunuchs. The doors, Cixi knew, opened into a false storage building not far from the Hall of Mental Cultivation, where the emperor lived. At this time of night, the streets of the Forbidden City would be largely deserted, but anyone who saw them would assume they had a right to be there.
Before the eunuchs could raise the alarm, Cixi identified herself one more time, and each one accepted a priceless piece of jewelry.
“I thought you said no one knew about this secret passage,” Alice said as Cixi closed the Chamber again. “At my count, at least twenty-two eunuchs know of it, not to mention whoever designed it, and the people who built it. Even people who can’t speak can communicate.”
“Eunuchs hardly count,” Cixi said dismissively. “And the workers who built the passage are long dead. No one of importance knows of its existence.”
The eunuchs grabbed the handles, and the doors creaked open. Standing in the opening was a platoon of soldiers with a variety of weapons drawn. At the head, his half-brass face gleaming in the light, stood Su Shun.
Chapter Fifteen
The man carried a small book and wore a long blue tunic over loose white trousers. He laid the book on a small table set with Oriental tea things next to the door and picked up a cup. The brass nightingale fluttered down to perch on his shoulder. “I was reading when you arrived, but now I think it’s time for tea. It’s a nice night to sit outside.”
Gavin took a step forward, then another. He couldn’t stop staring. He stared so hard, his vision seemed to double, creating two men, one surrounded by water, the other reading by candlelight. The man was taller, but he and Gavin had the same white-blond hair, the same sky blue eyes. The nose and chin were different, and the man was broader in the chest and shoulders. His face was unlined, and he didn’t look more than thirty. Still, Gavin knew without a doubt this was his father.
The soft rush of the streams flowed all around them. Gavin abruptly thought of the tarot card at the circus in Kiev. The card had shown a pale-haired man surrounded by water. The man on the card wore blue robes, and in one hand he held a chalice.
“The King of Cups,” Gavin said. “You’re the King of Cups. From the card. Linda flipped you over like a paired particle, and now the pathways cross.”
The man nodded, understanding. “I can see the clockwork plague got you. So yeah, we’re connected like pairs of particles. What slaps you slaps me, yep, yep. Nice to see you, kid. I guess I should say all the father things-how you’ve grown, how much a man you’ve become, how-”
Gavin hit him. Or he tried to. His fist flicked out of its own accord, and the man moved aside just enough for the blow to miss. The little bird clung tightly to his shoulder. Fully angry now, Gavin punched again, a hammer blow to the chest, but the man blocked it with his forearm, again with just enough speed and movement. His cup shattered on the stones. Gavin followed with more blows-left, right, hook, chop. The man dodged or blocked each one. His face remained expressionless. The balanced fight went on for some time, until Gavin backed away, panting. The cloak that was his wings dragged at his back.
“Sorry,” the man said. His voice was low and serene.
“Damn you,” Gavin said, and his voice was equal parts rage and anger.
“You’re pissed at me. You should be, kid. But maybe when you understand-”
“You’re a fuck.” Gavin was spewing venom he hadn’t known he was carrying. “You abandoned me and everyone else, and why? So you could be a monk in China? I grew up missing you and hating and wondering what I did to make you leave. I don’t even know your name because Mom wouldn’t even say it. Understand? I understand. You’re lower than shit on a sewer snail.”
He nodded. “Maybe we can grab a seat. The edge of the porch here is real nice for sittin’ and drinkin’ a little tea at night.”
“What for?” He turned his back and looked out across the dark valley. Stars hard as jewels shone in a black ocean that threatened to swallow them. “Maybe I should just leave. I don’t think anything you say could make me happy.”
“I’m sorry. Really.” The man came up behind Gavin and put a hand on his shoulder. At his touch, liquid gold flowed through Gavin. Warmth bathed him in a delicate river, carrying away fear and anger like so much flotsam and leaving his soul clear as glass. The man dropped his hand, and the feeling receded. The stones came back under his feet and the darkness pressed in, carrying the breath of trees and water. Gavin faced the man again. His wings flared.
“What was that?” he asked, his voice low.
“Qin Lung,” said the man.
“I don’t understand.”
“My name here is Qin Lung. Means-”
“Azure dragon.” Here Gavin did sit down, though it was because his legs went weak. The wings clinked, hanging over the edge of the porch. “All the Dragon Men are named Lung.”
“Yep, yep. They-we-ain’t members of our own families anymore and get the family name Lung. Dragon. The people here don’t see a lot o’ blue eyes, and I came from across the water before I found my balance, so they called me Azure Dragon. My name in America”-he said the word as if he hadn’t spoken it in a long time-“was Henry Uriel Ennock. But I don’t go by Henry. Call me Uri. Or Dad. Whatever floats your airship.”