Heart and Soul (21 page)

“Hong Kong,” Nigel exclaimed, feeling his knees go weak. It was not so much the result of a careful thought process as the result of a process that had gone on beneath the surface of his mind all the while, adding together many things. He looked at Jade, anxiously. “Would you be able to find the herbs you need in Hong Kong?”

“The British free-port island?” Lady Jade asked, then nodded. “Almost certainly. There are many Chinese there, and I know for a fact there are several were-clans. The Panda Clan came to my father once, with a delegation.”

“Oh, good,” Nigel said, feeling still weakened, but also that curious relief of a man who glimpses a way out of what he would have sworn was an impossible situation. “And you said you could take me somewhere? I assume you can, that is…” He hesitated, because there was, after all, no way to ask a wellborn lady if she could carry him, or if he could ride on her back.

Jade smiled a little, as though appreciating his difficulties with etiquette. “I can take you with me while I’m in dragon form, yes.”

“Oh, good,” he said again. And then encompassing Joe and his wife and Lady Jade in a look and noticing that all of them appeared equally baffled, he sighed. “You see, my father has friends in Hong Kong. Distant cousins, in fact. They…I can go to them and pretend I just found myself on the island, weakened from some fever.”

“But I thought,” Joe said, somewhat drily, “that it was important that nobody track you.”

“It is,” Nigel said, with a tremulous smile. “But because I will be traveling by dragon and putting as much distance between myself and Africa as possible, very quickly, this will allow me to stay for a little time with someone I know. By the time word gets back to England and my parents—or even to the ears of the British Secret Service—I will have changed my appearance altogether, and I will be a native amid natives.”

“What about the other dragon?” Joe said. “Zhang, Lady Jade called him? What about Zhang and the other ruby? What will you do to recover the other stone? For if I understand it right, you must have both to make sure the universe is anchored, or the magic healed, or whatever it is that the jewels are supposed to do.”

Nigel nodded. “Yes, but I have a feeling, if we do what the oracle said, things will more or less work themselves out. And besides—” He frowned at the idea that occurred to him. “I’m fairly sure Zhang will come in search of us.”

Lady Jade inclined her head. “Not right away,” she said. “He will need to heal from his injuries. I…attacked him magically as well as physically.”

“Yes,” Nigel said. “That much was obvious.”

She inclined her head again, in what seemed to be a gesture of acquiescence. “It would be to a powerful magician,” she said. “But I don’t expect he will give up the quest for this jewel. At least, not unless the British promise him the same payment for one of the jewels as they would have offered him for both.”

“And they might,” Nigel said. He had been in the Secret Service, even if only very briefly, and he was aware—no one could be better—that sometimes objectives changed, and when a goal proved unattainable, another was substituted. And of course, Her Majesty who—if what he read in the papers was true—was suffering from very ill health and possibly dying, might decide that all she needed was to repeat the feat of Charlemagne and bind the magical power of Europe to herself and her descendants. At that—as a more jaundiced observer of human nature than Charlemagne might have been and also considerably more prudish—she might very well bind all the magic of Europe to herself and her
legitimate
descendants.

It was possible, and if too much time went on, such an end would doubtless come. But until then, he must push himself and try to recover Heart of Light. If not, he would take Soul of Fire back to the shrine. But he knew that with only one jewel, the shrine couldn’t hide itself.

And how could he leave the village, the way to which the Secret Service probably knew by now, unprotected, with a jewel like Soul of Fire in it? He might as well give it over to Queen Victoria altogether and accept the destruction of the universe.

He looked at Lady Jade, a princess whose clan had waited for millennia uncounted for the restoration of their line, at Joe and at Charlotte, who had so kindly sheltered him in his need. He thought of his parents back in England, of his ex-wife, Emily, and her new husband, Kitwana, in their mountaintop African village.

If the universe were gone, then those people would go, too, and they were good people who did not deserve that sort of doom. Nigel would not allow it.

He looked at Lady Jade. “Let’s leave. As soon as may be.”

HALF THE PRIZE

Prime Minister Zhang, Prince of the High Mountain,
aspirant to the throne of All Under Heaven, did not bow.

Glaring, he stood in front of the commander of the Special Services here in Cape Town. The man was, to all appearances, a middle-aged colonel—Zhang, who craved power for himself, had long since become acquainted with the insignias of power among the English—but he’d been brought forward when Zhang had given the special words and secret signs that he’d been taught by his British contacts.

The man was rude and didn’t offer him a chair. Instead he had taken the only chair in the room, reclining on it haphazardly, with that want of care for appearance that was characteristic of his breed. He looked at Zhang with eyes full of haughty disdain, but Zhang didn’t care.

What he cared about was acquiring the other jewel. The Englishmen wanted the other jewel, too, and for the sake of it would endure much from Zhang.

And, Zhang thought, would endure much after Zhang acquired it—for although he meant to use the Englishmen to help his purpose, he had no intention of handing them the jewels. The English already had too much power, barbarians that they were. In the end, the Mandate of Heaven demanded that the power be kept with the Emperor of All Under Heaven, who would be Zhang.

“I understand,” the Englishman said, after giving Zhang an almost contemptuous once-over, “that you have only one of the rubies of power.”

Zhang’s leg hurt where the concubine’s daughter had bit him. His whole body hurt from the flares of her power. It wasn’t fair that a creature who was the daughter of a foreign devil should have the ability to defeat him. But he stood proud in the suit that the garrison commander had lent him. The ruby was in a magical belt about his waist, which would survive all the changes in form intact. “Only one,” he said. “But I know where to get the other.”

Into the commander’s ear he poured the tale of the girl who called herself a princess, and the humble home in which she’d taken refuge. “If you hurry,” he said, “you might capture her.”

But the commander only grunted. “Your kind are notoriously elusive,” he said. “I’ve had reports of a red dragon flying away from Cape Town and out to sea.” He shrugged. “It seems as though it is up to you to capture her.”

Zhang bit his lip. The problem was, of course, that he knew very well he could not capture the ruby alone. “With your help, I will.”

The man smiled nastily. “As an assurance of our help, perhaps you can give us the ruby you now hold?”

Zhang was speechless for a moment. He did not want to give the ruby to the English. For one, he suspected that once they had the ruby, they could track down the other, and he would be expendable. Nor, once they possessed it, would they be willing to give it back. But what excuse could he use?

And then he thought of the perfect reason—what he had heard referred to as the curse of the ruby: that if the jewels were touched by someone tainted with greed, they would burn that person and all around him. Zhang had intended to use his son, Grasshopper, to hold the uncloaked jewels while Zhang channeled their power to himself. He might still do that, but Grasshopper wasn’t with him, and fetching him first would delay everything. He intended to make use of some young Britisher infused with idealism and a sense of duty instead. He’d let his superiors select that sprig of virtue, and he’d let the young man get hold of the ruby. And then he’d kidnap him and steal the power. But for now, the curse would serve as an excuse. “The ruby is shielded,” he said, “and worse, by the man who held them before. Should he unshield it, it would probably incinerate me. I am taking that risk on your behalf.”

“Foolish of him, then,” the Britisher said, half-amused, “not to unshield it.”

Zhang shrugged. “He can’t know it’s in hands that crave its power. I might have given it to an innocent to hold.”

“As we intend to do,” the Englishman said, sounding yet more amused.

“Indeed, but not until the time is right. If you saw a Red Dragon leaving…”

“We did.”

“Then you need me,” Zhang said. “I know how to track her. I know what she’s likely to do. And I know how to ambush her.”

He’d dealt with the British before, and he knew what they would endure from a man who could give them what they wanted. They would even endure commerce with a were-dragon, which their own laws forbade.

He stood.

A DASHING OFFICER OF HER MAJESTY

Hettie Perigord was feeling slighted. Or perhaps she
was feeling cheated, lied to and ignored. Or perhaps all of the above.

Oh, to begin with, she’d never trusted that new friend of Papa’s, the one he’d saved from the crash of the carpetship and installed in Hettie’s own room, while forcing Hettie to make do with the guest room down the hall, which was barely larger than a closet.

That was the other thing. Papa had said that the man must be put in the larger room because he was wounded—he would need to be seen by doctors, and people would need to be in and out of his room. The bigger room allowed for greater ease to treat him.