Heart and Soul (36 page)

Jade shrugged. “But you said something about flying on a carpetship.”

“Only this,” he said, and spread his hands, palms forward, as if trying to show he was not armed. “That if you can come aboard a carpetship with me, as my…as my wife or relative—because they allow the flight magician a relative per voyage—we can fly to any of the cities in China that have a carpetport. Would flying to any of them help us? Would we find in any of them the potion that you tried to find here? I assume you didn’t find it.”

“I never got to the Fox Clan,” Jade said. She sounded suddenly tired, and wrapped her arms around herself as though she was cold. “For all I know, they might be perfectly loyal and willing to help me, but…I never got to them. The Tiger Clan stopped me.” She explained to him, quickly, what seemed to be a byzantine reasoning through which they could claim the throne by claiming her. “You see why,” she said, “it is most urgent that we use the ruby on the rivers and reclaim the throne and power of my ancestors.”

He saw. He also saw that, until then, every hand would be against them. “But if you cannot go to the Fox Clan,” he said, “how can you get the potion to disguise my appearance? I suppose I could go through China wrapped in a big cloak, or else—”

But he stopped, because she was looking at him with a speculative gaze. “There is a big drugstore in Guangzhou,” she said. “It is one of the biggest in China. And the drugs they sell are concocted by all the clans, as well as by the monks of all the temples. For Guangzhou is a city of temples.”

Nigel cocked his head. “I’m sure there is a carpetship port there,” he said. “I remember seeing the requests for carpetship flight magicians headed there at various ports throughout the world.”

She nodded. “There is a foreign section, on the little island of Shameen. There’s a carpetship port there, as well as a small city, or village, inhabited by foreigners. We can fly in and no one will know any better than that we came to transact some business. And once we’re there, you can wait for me in Shameen while I go to the mainland and get you the necessary drug. And then we can start our journey to the rivers.”

“No,” Nigel said, and to her surprised look, “Oh, not about the journey, but I don’t think I’m going to stay on some stupid island while you journey to the mainland. Something I’ve learned about these adventures,” he said, “is that it’s much easier if you have someone at your back.”

For just a moment, it looked like she was going to rebel, and it amused him, because the expression in her dark eyes was so little Chinese and so wholly willful British miss. But then she shook her head. “You might be right. If I hadn’t been able to touch your mind today…”

He nodded. Then frowned. “Would it compromise you to travel with me as man and wife?”

She looked at him, then shook her head. “No more than this entire adventure will compromise me. I should never have left the Dragon Boats without an escort, and certainly not without my brother’s explicit consent. I will have to hope that my daring actions are proven correct in retrospect, by everything coming out all right.”

“Is this the Mandate of Heaven which I hear so much about?” Nigel asked. Jade frowned at him, and unable to explain any better, he said, “I mean, that if something comes out all right, then it was meant to happen all along?”

She shook her head. “It’s not that simple,” she said. “Though that’s one way the mandate confirms itself.” She looked a little embarrassed. “We had a reading from the oracle, that told us my journey, as well as what Third Lady and my brother are doing, are the Mandate of Heaven. I wish I were equally sure.”

SEE FENG DU BY NIGHT

Third Lady waited, her nerves on edge. For a long
time, nothing happened, but at long last she heard the distinct shriek of a monkey. If it sounded ever so slightly…papery, it wasn’t to be wondered at. A rustle from the door, and a monkey dressed in an elaborate uniform pushed through the bars. She heard Wen draw breath.

She wished she could count on his strength to help her get out of this situation—or at least on a man’s strength. Wen, impaired by opium, had never been very strong, the whole time she’d known him. But here they were, immaterial even to things made of paper, and there was the fact that Wen was not whole. She must free him. And to free him, she must go to the court of Judge Bao.

The monkey scurried up to her and looked at her with eyes full of mischief. How could she trust such a creature? But then she looked at Wen, who was staring expectantly at her. Well, if Wen could trust a fox-fairy, she could trust a monkey. She leaned down and whispered, not sure what the other paper creatures could hear. “Dear monkey, would you collect the keys and open our cage, so we can escape?”

The monkey looked at her and, though its eyes were immobile, she could swear they danced with mirth. He squeaked and hopped in place. She remembered that most of the destruction the monkey had wreaked in
Journey to the West
had been random. Perhaps monkeys couldn’t be commanded. So what had possessed her to bring this one with her? She closed her eyes. But then she heard a rustle and opened them up, in time to see the monkey squeeze through the bars again, headed toward the paper men.

There was…a flurry. It was hard to tell exactly what was happening. Papery screams echoed. Suddenly, the monkey was leaping and cartwheeling back, keys in hand, and the men looked like nothing more than twists of paper on the landscape.

The monkey put the key in the lock. It opened with a metallic clang, which made no sense because both lock and key were made of paper. Perhaps in Feng Du, things just sounded like they were supposed to.

She gestured for Wen to run, and was aware—through the corner of her eye—that he was hesitating.

“Run now, Wen,” she said, putting all the force of her considerable willpower in her words. And as the monkey bowed to her, it then ran off, in another direction, jangling his ill-acquired paper key ring. Oh, no. She had a feeling bringing a monkey to hell had been a bad idea, indeed.

She ran for the door. Wen was ahead of her—just—as they ran madly through the darkness filled with mirrors.

“Get us out of this confusing place,” Wen said, sounding breathless, still running at a full clip.

Rushing beside him, she said, “I am trying.”

It wasn’t until they found themselves in a deep, dark tunnel, where they could ascertain that no one was pursuing them, that they slowed. In the dark, Wen reached his hand for hers, as though he didn’t want to be parted from her at this time.

“Where should we be going?” he asked. “You said the Office of Speedy Retribution, but there seems to be no printed map with helpful instructions.”

She flashed a smile at him, not sure he could see it in the darkness. “I have noticed this sad lack myself,” she said. “And you know, the accounts of people that have survived a voyage into Feng Du tend to be very clear on the exact details of forms and laws and registries, and—though they do not always agree—on how many courts there are, and what punishments are inflicted in each, but not so clear on the details of the physical terrain. It is possible, of course, that we are seeing an illusion, and that there is no physical terrain of Feng Du.”

Wen put his hand out and touched the rocky wall that enclosed them. “I am fairly sure,” he said, “that there is indeed a physical terrain of Feng Du. For all I know, it is even carved out of a mountain, as it’s said to be.”

Third Lady nodded. For all she knew, it was, too. But what preoccupied her more was where to go now. “They are very exact about all the levels of Feng Du, you know, and all the places where one should go when one has committed this crime or that. But they never explain the other stuff…the people that live here, like Judge Bao and Yu the Great, and other people who have settled here as though it were a winter residence. And they never tell you how to get to the halls to file paperwork, and this leaves us with a sad impression of what to do.”

“I have an idea,” Wen said. “Don’t look so surprised. I do have them sometimes.”

“I’m sorry, my lord, I—”

“You are not sorry in the least,” he said, smiling at her. And, even in the dark, it was clear that his smile was both amused and affectionate. “Nor should you be. The truth is, and you know it as well as I do, that you have had to do this to save me. You have had to come here. Your willingness to do so is, I assure you, perfectly appreciated, and you shall be if not my first wife, always my favorite one, if we return to the world of the living. But you must remember that many years ago I had excellent masters, who taught me everything about Feng Du and the organization of the universe.

“Now that opium clouds are not addling my thought, I remember those teachings, and I think, Third Lady, that the way to the courts must be through the sixth court, the Hall of Administrative Errors. If my soul is held in a place here, then it will be there.”

“Or perhaps not,” she said. “Since no one will know that your soul being held is an administrative error.”

“Perhaps not,” he said. “But the fact remains that the sixth court is presided over by Judge Bao himself, so that even if he holds the Office of Speedy Retribution in some other place, this is where we must go to find him. Of course, we will have to get through three more courts to get there.”

She felt herself flinch, and heard Wen sigh. “I realize this is not the news you wish to hear. And I wish I might have saved you from it, but I see no way to do that, just now. We might be able to correct this by going to the Hall of Records.”

“But,” Third Lady said, “it might be in the Hall of Mirrors, and we might have missed it. Indeed—”

“Indeed, it might,” Wen said. “Only this is also the first court and the place where most people arrive. We were arrested right at the entrance, and if you were looking as we walked amid the people watching scenes of their lives in mirrors, everyone was attended by paper guards and sometimes ceramic ones. This means—”

“That it is the best-guarded place in Feng Du,” Jade said. “Which must mean that there is no escape through there. I see what you imply. So we must go to the sixth court. But how?”

“This tunnel,” Wen said, “seems to be ignored by all the others. Which must mean—”

“That it can only be seen by them if it is revealed, though it is completely visible to us.”

Wen nodded. “If I am right, the next court is the Pool of Filth and the Court of Ice, for lustful souls and those who have taken liberties with the lives of others.”

“Where Zhang would be,” Third Lady said, gleefully.

“Probably, but as far as we know, Minister Zhang is not dead,” Wen said. He reached out and grasped her hand. “Let us try to get through these courts as fast as might be.” He flashed her a hesitant smile. “Only do not let go of my hand, no matter what. I do not wish to leave you behind.”

“Indeed, no, my dear Wen,” she said. “You must remember I’m a fox-spirit, and that we’re not known for our altruism.”

He grinned at her. “I’m starting to wonder if we know as much about fox-spirits as we thought we did.”

“I assure you, the basics are true,” she said. “Only,” she added as the thought struck her, “it all depends on how you use it, of course.”

He gave her a curious look, then nodded once, his fingers enveloping hers and holding so tightly that she thought if he had been more material, he would have bruised or crushed her hand. Instead, it just felt like an assured, tight grip. “I think, Third Lady, that is true of all humans. That it is all on how you use your qualities or your defects, for good or bad.”