Shadow Train (37 page)

Chapter 25

The moment he opened the box
and found the ring shards missing, the neurons in Zhai's brain started firing overtime. The shards were gone, taken from his house despite Hilltop Haven's robust security detail, despite the community's cameras, despite the state-of-the-art security system that supposedly protected the Shao house, and despite the endless array of house staff and family members who were constantly parading in and out of the place. Was it possible that the Obies or government agents had somehow been able to enter the house undetected and take the shards from Zhai's hiding place?

Maybe. But there was a simpler explanation.

Since his father had always been reliable and honest, Zhai had somehow failed to fully comprehend that he
really
belonged to the Obies. They held sway over his father's life or his death—and they could get him to do anything. Why had Zhai thought the ring shards would be safe in his house?

“My father,” he said grimly. “If he doesn't have them he may know where they are. Wait here,” he told Chin and Nass and hurried across the lawn toward the back entrance of the main house. He charged up the steps and down the hall, calling for his father, and blasting through the study door almost hard enough to knock it off its hinges.

Cheung Shao was standing by the window and he turned, surprised when Zhai ran in.

“Zhai, what is it?”

Zhai grabbed him by the front of his shirt and shook him. “The shards,” he demanded. “Where are they?”

“I don't know. What shards?” Cheung Shao asked. “What are you talking about?” He was either baffled by the question, Zhai thought, or pretending to be.

“Don't lie to me!” Zhai yelled. “You've lied about everything. Why we came to America, how we got here, where your money came from. All of it—lies! I'm warning you, Father. If you lie to me about this, I'm done with you!”

Sadness crossed Cheung's face. “You do not understand,” he said. “I have nothing to do with the shards or the treasure. I have nothing to do with any of it. I am a businessman, Zhai, not a fighter. I conducted the Order's businesses—their legitimate businesses—not their dirty work.”

“Then who took the shards?” Zhai demanded.

“I took them,” a voice behind Zhai said, and he turned around.

It was Li.

* * *

As Nass and Chin followed Zhai toward the back door of the main house, Chin warned him, “It's slipping away, Nass. We're running out of time.”

“It'll be okay,” Nass said hopefully. “We just have to get the shards back. Zhai will talk to his dad. He'll—”

Chin was still recovering from his illness and was moving a little slower than usual, but they were almost to the back door when it opened. Lotus Shao, wearing a jade-colored turtleneck sweater, black pants, and tall black riding boots stood there, blocking their path. Her hair was tied back into a sleek black ponytail that reached halfway down her back. If there was an award for hot moms of Middleburg, Nass figured, she'd win it hands down. If there was an award for scary moms, she'd win that, too.

“Let us pass,” Chin said.

Lotus shook her head slowly, and she was smiling. “Not this time, Chin,” she said. “It's over.”

They eyed each other silently, and then Nass spoke up. “Look, we don't want to make any problems,” he said quickly. “We're with Zhai. He just went inside.” He tried to slip past her, but she stopped him with one small hand pushing firmly against his chest.

“No,” she said.

“Well,” Chin said mildly. “I always wondered why the Order would send Cheung on such an important mission without a handler. That's your job, Lotus—isn't it?”

She bowed slightly, giving Chin an icy smile. “How clever of you to finally figure it out,” she said. “But I'm afraid it's a little too late for it to do you any good.”

Chin nodded. “Your husband's trust—and his heart—were misplaced,” he said.

“My husband is a fool whose mind is distorted by love.”

“I'm afraid I must disagree with you,” retorted Chin. “Love cannot distort. Even the most misguided love is more productive than a rational hatred.”

“Ever the philosopher.” Lotus's voice was low and sarcastic. “Go now. Leave—at once,” she commanded.

“Not without Zhai,” said Nass.

It all happened in a split second. Nass decided to bolt past Lotus and charge into the house to get Zhai. He even lifted his foot to take the first step. Lotus reacted in a blur of motion, and suddenly Nass was upended, his body parallel to the ground, legs in the air, hands windmilling. He hit the stone patio in a back-smacker of epic proportions, and at the moment of bone-jarring impact, his whole world went black.

* * *

As Zhai stood staring at his sister, Weston entered the room behind her—and he seemed completely befuddled. He was looking at Li as if hoping her actions would give him some clue about what was going on.

Zhai released his father and quickly stepped away from him. It was an unwritten rule in the Shao household to keep Li away from anything ugly or unpleasant, and this situation certainly qualified. But he was still having trouble processing what she'd just said.

“Li, this is a private conversation,” Cheung Shao said as he smoothed his shirt, but Li continued to walk purposefully toward Zhai.

“I'll need those ring shards you've been collecting,” she said evenly, as if she were asking to look at his homework assignment.

“What?” Zhai said.

“The shards. You still have one. Give it to me,” she said.

Zhai stared at her, confused. Behind her, Weston said, “Li, thanks—but you don't have to do this for me. It's really not necessary. I mean, unless you
want
to give it to us, Zhai?”

Zhai glanced at Weston, then back to Li. “What's he talking about?”

She merely held out her hand. Neither sibling moved.

“Okay, look, so . . . here's the deal,” Weston began with a heavy, confessional sigh. “I've been working for the federal government. I know, I don't seem like the secret-agent type, but you know what they say. You can't always judge a book by its cover, right? I mean look at you, Zhai. You look like a normal kid, and you're a martial arts master. Which I respect. Which is why I would never
demand
that you give us the shards. But we're acting on behalf of the United States government so we're requesting, respectfully, that you—”

“No, you're not,” Zhai said, still looking at his sister.

“Um . . . what?” Weston said.

“You're not working for the government,” he said. “I can't believe I've been so blind.”

Li smiled, but it was not her normal schoolgirl grin; it looked eerily like her mother's smile—tight and frigid.

“I'm sorry, Zhai, but yes we are,” Weston assured him. “Aren't we, Li? Tell him.”

Zhai and Li stood facing each other, their eyes locked. A thousand childhood scenes flashed through his mind: playing on the backyard swing set, riding bikes together in the afternoons, back and forth to music lessons, playing endless childhood games like Go Fish, War, Monopoly—and Li's favorite, Risk.

“I should have known,” Zhai said.

“Yes, you should have,” Li said simply. “But you've always been so . . . inside yourself. I bet you didn't even know that I'm an expert at Venom of the Fang, did you?” She laughed at his surprise. “You can't possibly beat me in a fight, and I don't really want to hurt you, Brother. Just hand over the shard and everything can still be okay.”

“Venom of the what?” Weston asked, and Zhai felt sorry for the kid.

He felt sorry for his father, too. He could see Cheung Shao's reflection in the mirror on the wall behind Li. He had gone completely pale, like he was about to faint. But he was telling the truth. He hadn't taken the shards. He had no idea what was happening. He really was just a lackey, a glorified accountant. It was Li—and if Li worked for the Obies, then so did her mother.

Suddenly, Weston seemed to get it. “You weren't helping me,” he said to Li. “You were working for
them
. For the Chinese agents! Oh, God, I've been such an idiot. My dad is gonna kill me.”

“Don't feel so bad, Weston,” Zhai said. “She tricked me, too. She doesn't even seem to remember that in the last few months, I saved her life—twice.”

“Oh—didn't I remember to thank you?” Li said with a sarcastic little smirk, and Zhai understood that there was nothing he could say, nothing born of logic or of love, that would change her course now. Her mother had been grooming her, brainwashing her for as long as Zhai could remember. He had always dismissed it as the love of a devoted, overbearing parent. Now he saw it for what it was: the conditioning of a soldier.

Still watching Li, Zhai reached into his pocket, took out the shard, and held it up in front of his face. Perhaps ten feet separated him and his sister now. “Okay, Li,” he said. “If you want the shard that badly you'll have to come and take it from me.”

The girlish grin that had been missing earlier rose to her face now. She sprang forward with the grace of a young puma, and attacked.

* * *

As they left the boarding house, Maggie went over the plan again in her head. It would utilize every skill they had, but it would also require a bit of luck. Dalton nudged her and nodded at the man on horseback posted on the corner.

“That's Crawford,” said Aimee's mom. “He's in charge of this street. He escorts us over to the town hall, and after the count, he brings us all back.”

When they passed him, Maggie saw his eyes following them. His hand rested on the six-shooter on his hip and his gaze shifted as one by one the townspeople—men, women, and children—came out of their shops and homes and joined the line. They all looked so tired and anxious, Maggie thought, and she knew they wouldn't be able to depend on them for much help. The stress they were under showed in their faces. She wondered how much longer they could take it. She couldn't help noticing that in their old-fashioned clothes they all looked like extras in some amazing period movie—but she had more urgent concerns at the moment. The number of men keeping guard over them had grown from a couple to about a dozen, and they were all heavily armed.

“Get in line!” one of the outlaws barked, planting a boot in the back of a man wearing dingy work clothes and shoving him into place as the last few stragglers came out to join them. By now they were in front of the town hall, lined up before a long watering trough.

The desperado who seemed to be their leader dismounted and stalked down the column of frightened people. “Which are the new arrivals?” he asked.

“Right here, boss,” said Crawford. He walked to where Emily was standing with Anne and the girls.

“I've seen pictures of him,” Anne Pembrook whispered excitedly, staring at the leader of the gang. “That's the outlaw Sam Bass!”

“Shut up,” Crawford ordered. “Step out. The boss wants to have a look at you.”

Calmly, Anne and her students did as they were told. The boss was taller, more broad-shouldered, and uglier than the rest of them, and Maggie didn't like the look he was giving them, especially the one directed at her.

“Well, ain't you a pretty little thing,” he said when he stopped in front of her. There was a lecherous gleam in his eye. “I think I could have some fun with you.”

“Not really,” she said and pointed at Dalton. “She's a lot more fun than I am.”

“Oh, yeah?” he replied and sauntered over to where Dalton was standing. “Why do you say that?”

“She's an entertainer,” said Maggie. “She sings like an angel. Really—you ought to hear her.”

He chuckled. “Been a while since we had any entertainment,” he said. “Go ahead. Show me what you can do.”

“Right now?” asked Dalton.

“Sure,” he said. “Go on—give us a song.”

“Okay, then. If you insist.” She turned to her friends. “You guys ready to hear a song?” They all assured her that they were.

Maggie felt the energy she'd learned to harness, the power that Raphael called Shen, boiling up within her. She pressed her hands tightly against her ears, like a petulant child trying to block out a reprimand. Emily, Miss Pembrook, and Kate also covered their ears as Dalton opened her mouth and the crystal clear strains of the song from
The Good Book
rang out clearly. The faces of the outlaws and the townspeople turned toward her, curious at first, then smiling, and then drowsy, and then their eyelids drifted shut. What happened next reminded Maggie of a YouTube video she'd seen of a bunch of goats that fainted whenever they got excited. One by one villagers and outlaws dropped to their knees and then slumped to the ground as they fell fast asleep. It was amazing.

When they'd been enemies, Maggie had felt jealous of Dalton's pure, perfect voice, but she was thankful for it now as Crawford wavered in his saddle and then fell off his horse, hitting the ground hard.