Yu Po bowed, then began issuing orders in Shou. As Hsieh’s guards scurried into action, the mandarin selected a half-dozen men to accompany him, then led the way up an immense staircase to the second story, where he astonished the palace sentries by allowing Ruha to use her wind magic to open the door to the Third Virtuous Concubine’s apartment. The minister scowled at the macabre frescoes that decorated Lady Feng’s antechamber, then followed the witch through the dressing closet into the bedchamber.
Ruha went straight to the corner and pulled Lady Feng’s writing desk from the wall. When she did not hear any scratching or whining on the other side of the secret door, she began to fear that Wei Dao had done something with Chalk Ears. The witch took a deep breath and, wondering how Hsieh would react if it turned out she could prove neither Lady Feng’s indiscretion nor her abduction, pushed open the hidden panel.
The secret chamber looked as though a whirlwind had erupted inside. The worktable in the center of the room had been swept clean of its cauldrons and balances, which now sat upon the floor amid a knee-deep jumble of books and broken glass. Heaps of severed bat wings, blackened fingernails, and silk-wrapped spider eggs were scattered everywhere, often coated by stripes of rainbow-hued dusts and powders. One of the cabinets had even been pulled over and now lay broken into two splintered pieces.
Save for a sleeping cushion, sandbox, and two silver bowls containing untouched supplies of food and water, there was no sign of Chalk Ears. Although the jagged shards of glass had been broken out of the window through which Ruha had escaped, the casement itself remained open and not repaired.
“Is this what you bring me to see?” Hsieh asked.
“No. What I brought you to see is gone.”
Ruha could almost see what had happened. After she jumped through the window, Wei Dao, or some of her guards, had tried to capture Chalk Ears. The familiar had panicked, and the ensuing struggle had destroyed Lady Feng’s laboratory. In the end, the little creature had escaped through the broken window, and the princess had elected to leave it open in the hope that the beast would return.
The witch picked her way across the room. “I had hoped to show you Lady Feng’s familiar.” She picked up the red sleeping cushion. “But I fear Chalk Ears has fled.”
“Chalk Ears? Perhaps you mean Winter Blossom?”
Ruha held her hands about a foot apart. “It was a little creature that could have been a cross between a monkey and a raccoon. I found it here when I—” The witch stopped short of admitting what she had been doing in Lady Feng’s chambers. “It looked like it had not eaten for a week.”
“He,” Hsieh corrected. The mandarin waded into the room and kneeled beside the familiar’s lair. “Winter Blossom is male lemur—though I think Eye Biter is better name.”
Ruha caught herself staring at Hsieh’s silken eye patch and looked away. “Winter Blossom is more than a pet to Lady Feng. Had she departed the Ginger Palace willingly, I doubt she would have left him behind.”
Hsieh sighed heavily. “But familiar is not here.”
The mandarin waved his guards into the room, and Ruha’s mouth went dry. She glanced out the empty window pane, already summoning to mind the same wind spell she had used to escape Wei Dao, then swallowed her fear and told herself not to panic. The guards arrived and arrayed themselves around Hsieh, at the same time blocking the witch’s path through the window.
Ruha squatted beside Winter Blossom’s silver bowls and waved her hand over the contents. “The familiar escaped after Lady Feng’s departure, or these would not be full. Wei Dao hopes to lure him back.”
Hsieh met Ruha’s gaze. “I do not doubt what you say. If Lady Feng takes Winter Blossom, she takes his bed.” He picked up the lemur’s sleeping cushion, then tossed it to a guard. “So, where is Lady Feng, and why does she not take familiar?”
“I told you—she was abducted.”
“So you do, but I think you are lying. It is so much better if she takes lover.” Hsieh shook his head in disappointment, then gave Ruha a stern glance. “Perhaps you tell me what you are doing in Ginger Palace—and no lies. Today, I grow impatient with lies.”
When Ruha paused to consider how much she should say, the mandarin rose. “Please do not refuse.” He glanced at two guards, who took Ruha by the arms and jerked her to her feet. “Truth potions are most damaging to mind, and you cannot escape.”
“It was not my intention to try to escape—and let us both hope that does not become necessary.” Ruha fixed an icy glare on Hsieh and remained silent. When he finally waved his guards off, she began, “Not long ago, a staff of some sentimental value was stolen from the Lady Yanseldara …”
The witch told Hsieh of how someone was using the staff to steal Yanseldara’s spirit, and of Vaerana’s belief that Lady Feng was responsible, and of her own effort to recover the staff from the Ginger Palace, and, finally, of her subsequent discovery of the Third Virtuous Concubine’s abduction. The mandarin listened patiently and closely. He did not interrupt, even when she told him of Tang’s involvement in the Cult of the Dragon and how the prince had attempted to conceal his mother’s kidnapping.
When Ruha finished, the mandarin contemplated her account in silence for many moments, then raised his hand and held up three splayed fingers. “I have questions. Where is Prince Tang now?”
“He seems to have decided that the only way to redeem himself is to personally rescue his mother.” Ruha did not say in whose eyes the prince wished to redeem himself. The less Hsieh knew about the prince’s attraction to her, the better. “I believe he has taken a company of guards and gone to attempt that.”
Hsieh winced, but nodded and folded down one of his fingers. “Second question. Theft of spirit takes no more than two or three days. Why has Lady Feng not finished?”
“I am not certain. But I do know Prince Tang was awaiting the fresh ylang blossoms aboard the Ginger Lady.” When the mandarin furrowed his brow, Ruha hastened to add, “The kidnapper believes he is in love with Yanseldara. Perhaps they are for a love potion?”
Hsieh shook his head. “Then why does he steal spirit? Only reason to use love potion on spirit is to bind it to another spirit, for long journey through Ten Courts of Afterlife.”
A feeling of nausea crept over Ruha. “The thief is … he is not living. He is one of the undead.”
An expression of pity passed over Hsieh’s face, and he folded down his second finger. “Final question. Who is kidnapper?”
This was the question Ruha had been dreading. She had omitted any mention of Cypress’s identity, fearing that the mandarin would decide it was safer for Lady Feng to cooperate with the dragon than to help Vaerana save Yanseldara. Nevertheless, the witch had no choice except to hope she could persuade Hsieh to ally with her, for it was growing clearer all the time that she did not understand enough about Lady Feng’s magic to save Yanseldara.
“Who take Lady Feng?” Hsieh demanded.
Ruha swallowed, then said, “The same barbarian who tried to assassinate you.”
Hsieh frowned at her. “No one tries to kill me.”
Ruha nodded. “On the Ginger Lady. The dragon.”
“You are greatly mistaken.” Hsieh’s rebuke was both confident and gentle. “Dragon is after gold and jewels—”
“And you,” Ruha replied. “His name is Cypress, and he is the leader of the Cult of the Dragon. He fears you have come to replace Tang and stop the palace’s trade in poisons, and so he tried to kill you.”
“That is most impossible.” Hsieh shook his head stubbornly. “I send messenger with word of my visit only one day before dragon attack. Because I travel with only light bodyguard, I instruct Prince and Princess to tell no one of my journey—unless they tell Lady Feng?”