Nine Gates (14 page)

Erick’s words had evidently hit home. Billi Rockshaper came forward with a box and slips of paper. A quick vote was taken. Judd Madden counted out the results.

“Eighteen for,” he said, “two against. Very well. For now the matter will be treated as one between segments of a single tradition and the Rock Dove Society will not interfere—and will recommend noninterference by related societies as well.”

Pearl glanced back at Shen. Their gazes locked and it was clear to her that he shared her mingled relief and dread.

We have permission to go ahead
, Pearl thought.
I hope to whatever Heaven listens to a Tiger’s prayers that we can pull this off.

“I cannot, simply cannot, believe you did something so foolish! You have endangered our treaty! You may have made it impossible for us to return home!”

Righteous Drum didn’t shout. He didn’t even raise his voice, and that made his fury all the more terrible.

Honey Dream fought not to shrink back as Righteous Drum continued his tirade. She reminded herself that she was the Snake. Although Righteous Drum was her father, in this they were equals. She was the Snake. He was the Dragon. Would he have yelled at Waking Lizard this way?

She considered and was forced to admit that probably Righteous Drum would have done so, but then the Monkey—like all Monkeys—possessed a playful streak and often did impulsive, childish things that deserved such reprimands.

Honey Dream’s confidence shrank a little. Had she behaved like a Monkey, rather than a Snake? Did she deserve her father’s—the Dragon’s—anger?

No. Honey Dream straightened her shoulders, fleetingly wishing that she was wearing the impressive robes that would have been hers back home in the Lands Born from Smoke and Sacrifice rather than these flimsy but ever so comfortable shorts and cropped top. It was difficult to be haughty and impressive when nearly naked, but then again, if one relied upon clothing…

She waited for Righteous Drum to pause for breath—or perhaps to find an appropriately cutting phrase—and slid her own words smoothly into the gap.

“You are overreacting,” she said calmly. “As doubtlessly this Cat, this Albert Yu, intended when he phoned you. He is sly and manipulative, that one, for all he is but a pretend
emperor—his blood three generations attenuated with that of this poor excuse for a land. Who is a candy merchant to criticize me?”

“Whoo!” Waking Lizard gave a laughing cheer. “Nice words! Dare you repeat them to his face? For all your sneers, Albert Yu smells of more than chocolate. He has power and has been well trained in how to use it.”

Honey Dream lifted her head and looked down her nose at Waking Lizard. “I have no desire to antagonize one for whom we have a use.”

“Then why,” Righteous Drum said, “did you risk antagonizing the entire lot of them by prowling around in their private chambers?”

Honey Dream shook her head. “I have admitted to doing no such thing. I was looking for an empty bathroom. I thought the one downstairs was in use.”

Waking Lizard gave another gusty laugh. “By all means stick to your story, dearest Snake, but you know, and we know, and most importantly of all, our associates know that you were snooping. And not snooping very effectively either, since you were caught. Would you care to tell us what was so important that you would take such a risk?”

Honey Dream glowered at him. “I tell you. There was no risk. Indeed, none at all. Brenda Morris overreacted. My question is this. Why should she be so guarded? Why should she care if someone walks through her room in order to get to a bathroom? What is it that she has to hide? If Nissa had been concerned, that might have been reasonable. Her little girl was the one who was napping, but, no, it was Brenda Morris who came hurrying out, so worried about my ‘trespassing.’ I say her actions, not mine are the suspicious ones. I say it again. What is it that Brenda Morris has to hide?”

Honey Dream tried not to hold her breath, not to show how carefully she was watching their reactions. Would they accept this explanation? Would they transfer their suspicions from her to the one they should feel suspicious about?

Righteous Drum looked thoughtful. Waking Lizard maintained
his expression of amused superiority. He really
was
annoying.

Honey Dream sneaked a glance toward Flying Claw. She still was not certain about his feelings for Brenda Morris. There were times she thought he might care for her, others when she was almost certain that indifference was his strongest emotion toward the other woman.

At this moment, Flying Claw was leaning back in his chair, his eyes half closed in the manner that meant he was considering her challenge. This was good. At least he hadn’t rejected it right off. Still Honey Dream felt a faint sour burn in her gut that he hadn’t immediately leapt to take her side.

“Tell me again,” said Waking Lizard, his expression suddenly serious, “why it is you have such a great suspicion regarding Brenda Morris. Remember, unlike you other three, my interactions with her have been completely harmonious. Your first treaty with these people was made before my arrival. The second and more detailed one soon after, while I was still recovering from my injuries. Perhaps I have missed something.”

Honey Dream did not think that Waking Lizard thought anything of the sort. That mention of the “first treaty” was enough warning. It hadn’t really been her fault that Righteous Drum had been forced to agree to terms that limited their freedom of action. It had been Brenda Morris’s fault. If Brenda had stayed asleep as she was supposed to do, everything would have been fine. Flying Claw would have been free, and no one the wiser as to the manner of his departure.

But, no, Brenda Morris had to wake up and come wandering out into the hallway, ruining all of Honey Dream’s carefully laid plans. She had to have the gall to grab those bracelets and dare defend herself when Honey Dream had tried to settle things quietly.

Honey Dream found herself struck by the coincidence. That Brenda Morris really had a thing for wandering out whenever she wasn’t wanted. Could that be coincidence or
might it be an indication of something else, something suspicious?

She voiced this new thought to the others.

“Oh,” said Waking Lizard with a dismissive wave of one of those knobby-knuckled hands, “that’s nothing. She probably had a ward up.”

“There were no wards,” Honey Dream responded promptly, “except for the household ones that warn Pearl if unauthorized magics are being done.”

“Strange,” Waking Lizard said with another annoying chuckle. “You checked for wards when you were going to the bathroom?”

Honey Dream realized she’d been caught out, but she sniffed.

“Of course. I knew those amateurs were studying. I didn’t want to risk disturbing them. Those amulet bracelets they so rely upon are ruined if the caster loses concentration while creating them.”

“How considerate of you,” said Waking Lizard dryly. “You really are an example to us all.”

“Stop this bickering!” Righteous Drum snapped. “We have a serious problem confronting us. Whether or not Honey Dream was snooping is not the issue. The issue is that the people upon whom we are relying to help us return to our homeland believe that was her intention—and for good reason. Honey Dream has not exactly built a reputation for trustworthiness among them.”

“Unfairly,” Honey Dream said, “because this time I wasn’t snooping, and the other time I was trying to effect a rescue. If anything, that first time should have shown them how very trustworthy I am. After all, we were opponents then, not allies.”

She regretted her outburst once she had begun, because, after all, the comrade she had been seeking to rescue had been Flying Claw, and no man—and especially no Tiger—would like to be reminded that he had put himself into a position
where he had needed rescue. She glanced over at Flying Claw, but he did not look angry, only thoughtful.

He sat straighter, crossing his arms loosely across his chest. “Although overall I think Honey Dream is overreacting,” he said, his words measured, “I did report that there is something odd about Brenda Morris, but whether that means she is a threat to us or whether her oddness presents us with an additional asset remains to be seen.”

Honey Dream wanted to scream, wanted to yell out at the unfairness of it all. She wanted to say, “If she wasn’t a girl and didn’t look at you with those great big adoring eyes, would you be so ‘balanced’ in your outlook?”

She didn’t say it though. She was, after all, the Snake, and had been trained in diplomacy and tact. However, the inside of her mouth tasted of blood from where she’d bit her lip in her fury. She hoped the red didn’t show against her teeth.

“So what do we do?” repeated Righteous Drum. “Do we seek to make amends or do we side with Honey Dream’s version of events? She is my daughter, and I admit that I am not the best judge where she is concerned.”

When Waking Lizard and Flying Claw turned their gazes upon her, Honey Dream did her best not to fidget. Then Flying Claw passed judgment.

“We side with Honey Dream,” he said. “We are too small a band and too much in need to be divided.”

The triumph that welled within Honey Dream’s breast was quickly quelled with his next words.

“But she’d better not do anything so stupid again.”

A horrible shrill growling roused Brenda from a sleep she hadn’t even known she’d been sleeping.

Last she remembered, she’d been sitting in Pearl’s downstairs front parlor, dutifully reading a chapter in a rather dull book on the evolution of Chinese culture. She must have nodded off.

Brenda leapt to her feet, letting the book drop to the floor, hearing it thud against the thick parlor carpet. Her fingers slipped beneath the tile bracelets on her wrist as she calculated what she needed to do.

First, Dragon’s Tail as a ward, although whether that would do any good against something that could get through Pearl’s existing wards, then…

A whirlwind of yellow and orange, striped in black, still emitting that horrible shrill growling burst through the open parlor doorway that let out into the entry hall. The whirlwind sprang upon her, wriggling and snarling.

Brenda let the Dragon’s Tail amulet bracelet snap back on its elastic threads to rest against her wrist. Then she scooped Lani up and held her at arm’s length. The little girl kept growling, but now the growls were more than half giggles.

Lani was dressed as a tiger in a black-striped orange tee shirt, slippers with tiger faces embroidered on the toes, a beanie-like hat with tiger’s ears and eyes, and, crowning glory, a black and orange tail stuffed into the back of her elastic-waisted pants.

“Down! Down! Down!” Lani shouted gleefully. “I’m a tiger, like Foster.”

Brenda put the girl down—she was really hard to hold on to when she kicked and wriggled like that. Brenda was afraid she’d drop her. Lani reciprocated the kindness by crouching down and biting Brenda on one bare calf.

“Hey!” Brenda howled, kicking out and knocking Lani back none too gently. “That hurts!”

“But I’m a tiger,” Lani explained in a very small voice, as if the insanity of excitement gone, she realized how far she’d overstepped.

“Never mind that,” Brenda replied grumpily, examining her calf where a little crescent of red marks showed quite distinctly. “Human tigers don’t bite. Have you seen Pearl bite anyone?”

“No, but I saw…”

A sound from the hallway distracted them both. Foster—
Flying Claw—was standing there, arms crossed over his chest, an expression of mingled amusement and something like apprehension on his face. His eyes met Brenda’s, then dropped to her calf. The expression on his face became a definite grin.

“Lani,” he said, the snap of reprimand in his voice, “did you bite Brenda?”

“I’m a tiger,” Lani tried one more time, although her tone said she was perfectly aware the explanation wasn’t going to work.

“That is not an excuse,” Flying Claw said. He spoke the short phrase in English. Unlike the others from the Lands, his command of the language was the result of hard study enhanced by sorcery, rather than sorcery alone. “Tigers are dangerous. They must learn to sheath their claws and bite only their enemies.”