The Dragons of Heaven (33 page)

I lifted my hat, ran my hands along the inside to smooth out bumps, both real and imagined. It smelled a little scorched, possibly from the car crash. I'd taken more than my share of knocks these past few days. “I find myself less and less interested in learning his secrets. It is only that I wonder what he would have done in this situation.”

The clacking stopped. Song Yulan rose and took the hat from me, flicking dust from the brim. “He would have walked away. Your grandfather was Lung Huang's champion. He avoided confrontation with Lung Di at all costs.”

The more I learned about him, the more I wondered just how much of a hero Mitchell Masters had been. Perhaps he and Argent were more suited to each other than I'd thought.

I retrieved my trench coat and checked the pocket. The silk-wrapped knife was still there. I pulled it out. Looked up at Song Yulan. “I wonder if you might do me a favor.”

She set my hat atop my head and tapped the brim with one long nail to give it a rakish tilt.

“Depends upon the favor.”

A
fter sending
Song Yulan on her errand, I quizzed a few fox ladies and found my way to Skyrocket's recovery room. Jiu Wei was tending him herself, her white hair rolled up in a rat-and-snood, the back of her white nurse's uniform twitching as she bustled around his bed, plumping pillows and straightening covers.

At least somebody was amusing herself in the midst of all this.

She stopped fussing as I entered, amber eyes laughing as she sashayed out the door. “Don't tire him out.”

I watched Skyrocket watch her depart.

“Now that is one pretty little lady.”

Oh lord. Make that two people amusing themselves. I felt compelled to give him some kind of warning. After all, Sylvia had put him in my care. “Down boy. She's old enough to be your grandmother.” And far older than that.

Skyrocket sighed and tore his gaze from the empty doorway. “Always did like a lady with a little bit of mileage.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. On his own head be it.

“Speaking of. How's the
Kestrel
.” From the forced cheer, I had a feeling he already knew. Asking was pro forma.

I perched on the edge of the bed. “I think I'm required not to tell you. For your health. No sudden shocks and all that. How are you feeling, my boy?”

“Like Samson after a trip to Supercuts. Can't even say the other guy looked worse. Sorry I let you down, old man. Don't know what happened. One moment I felt fine, the next, like I was flying through molasses. Knocked out by a crash landing.” He shook his head. His color was still off – a peaked grey under the sun-kissed skin. “My rep'll be in the can after this.”

“I won't let it get about.”

“Still leaves the other fellow. Tsung.”

“He won't let it get about, either.” I'd make sure of it.

“So, what's the sit-rep?”

Always the soldier. No. Always the hero, even when he was down. Hard not to be inspired by that. “I'm heading into a sit-down with the two big power players here. One group wants David Tsung to go in and take down the New Wall. The other supports me. I'm going to listen to their pros and cons, and they've agreed to abide by my decision.”

“Seems like a no-brainer to me. I trust you a lot more than that other fellow. Even if he did haul my ass out of hell.”

“But you are not Chinese. We are the intruders here. Just because I
can
be the one to go in doesn't mean I should be. ‘The wise man prefers the left; the man of war prefers the right'.”

“Mind putting that in plain speak for me?”

“My apologies. The Tao helps me think. It means that peace favors the creative solution, and the creative solution often leads to peace.”

“The Tao. I get that. It's Johnny Cash for me.”

That surprised a laugh from me. “There's a good deal of crossover between the two, now that I think on it. What do you think Mr Cash would say about this situation?”

“Something ‘bout the guy on the right and the guy on the left and the guy in the back being a Methodist. Which means don't bring in politics when you're starting a folk band.”

I laughed and shook my head. “A very sage man is Johnny Cash.”

M
ian Zi met
me at the door to the conference room, gave me a once over, and sighed with only a minimal brow twitch – just as his father might have done.

“I might say the same thing about your costume,” I drawled. He didn't rise to my baiting – likely a good thing, since we were supposed to be on the same side. “Have your people arrived?”

“Some time ago. They're waiting inside.” He opened the door and gestured for me to precede him. Yangtze and the monk from my earlier capture rose at our entry, along with several other men and women in near-identical suits. “Where is Mei Shen?”

I paused on the threshold. “Last I knew, she was glaring daggers at you.”

Mian Zi frowned. “She went to get you when they arrived. Ten minutes ago, at least.”

That didn't sound good. Jiu Wei's temple wasn't that big, and I'd left a string of
huxian
in my wake who knew I'd gone to visit Tom.

“Bollocks,” I muttered, because I had a fair idea where she must have gone and who she must have taken with her.

As if on cue, several phones rang. The suits answered, buzzing into them. Mian Zi didn't need to know the details to figure out what was wrong.

“She lied.” He spun and charged back towards the front doors of the temple.

“Mian Zi, wait.” I hurried after him.

“For what? She promised. She said she would abide by your decision. Do you see what she has become? What her association with that man has made her?”

“This is pure Mei Shen, and you're upset because you should have guessed she'd do this. We both should have.” When hadn't Mei Shen been one to take advantage of opportunity? She was a tactician where Mian Zi was a strategist. I should have known better than to trust that docile nod. What better time to make a run on Lung Di's sanctum than when Mian Zi was away and occupied? “We still need to talk–”

“No. I have tried talking. I have been reasonable. The longer I delay, the greater the chance that she will make herself more of a tool of that man and our uncle. Now is the time to put a stop to this for good.”

He thrust open the temple doors. With a flash of green and gold, he took to the skies, leaving me with the queasy certainty that his “for good” would not be to anyone's good at all.

I turned to find the ranking agents of the People's Heroes arrayed behind me, gawking at their commander's departure.

“I don't suppose any of you have a way to get across the river quickly?”

Seven Lotus Petals Falling lowered his phone long enough to answer. “We have cars.”

Of course. And I'd already been given a firsthand demonstration of the traffic issues in Shanghai. By the time we arrived by car, the fight would be decided. And what would David Tsung be doing while Mian Zi fought Mei Shen? He wanted to get into Lung Di's sanctum, that was clear. Whatever the reason, I had to stop him. Had to get there first.

Song Yulan flowed into being in the midst of the confusion, and a moment later, Fang Shih trundled through the half-open temple doors. The suits fell back before the squat spirit with grunts of surprise. Yangtze huffed and crossed her arms, and the monk bowed to Fang Shih.

“I feel like we might have missed something,” Song Yulan said, as she took in the muttering agents.

“Mei Shen and David Tsung decided to use the delay to have a go at Lung Di's sanctum. Mian Zi left to stop them,” I said.

“That girl.” Song Yulan sighed and shook her head.

We could commiserate later. I bowed to Fang Shih, who gaped and blinked at me. Had Song Yulan neglected to explain my guise? Lovely.

“The knife?” I prodded, hoping that getting to business would distract him from giving me away.

“Oh. Yes. Yes.” He held it out to me atop its wrappings of silk. “It is as it always was. There is no new magic on it that would make it a key. And such a purpose wouldn't settle easily on it in any case. It's a tool of deception, not of warding.”

I ground my teeth to keep back all the curses I wanted to give vent to, because most of them would have been directed at myself rather than Fang Shih or the others. Deception. I should have known. I
had
known, and I'd worked with Tsung anyways.

I didn't know his game, but I knew how to stop him. I took the knife from Fang Shih, wrapped it back up in the silk, and pocketed it.

“Song Yulan, I need you to find Tsung and guide me to him. The rest of you, take the cars and head to Lung Di's tower. Except for you, Seven Lotus Petals Falling. You follow me.”

He obeyed, glancing back at his fellows as I led the way through the temple. “Where are we going?”

“To see a man about a ride,” I said, pushing open the door to Skyrocket's room.

S
kyrocket couldn't carry
the both of us. “Not even on a good day, and this ain't one of those,” he said with a shake of his head as Jiu Wei helped him on with his pack in the courtyard of the temple.

“I promise you, I'm lighter than I look–”

“Not a matter of weight. It's a matter of grip. Only got two hands. Something goes wrong, I don't want to drop you in the river.” He cocked his head, grinned a strained version of that Colgate grin. “Well, maybe you, Old Man. But not the other fellow. He seems pretty decent.”

At this rate, it might have been wiser to take the cars. “Fine. After you drop me off, come back for him.” I turned to Seven Lotus Petals Falling. “Be ready. I'll do my best to delay Tsung.”

The monk bowed. I took a deep breath to prepare myself for this new madness. “Let's go.”

“Aye, sir.” And then Tom surprised us all, save perhaps for Jiu Wei, when he bent the nine-tailed
huxian
back in a classic first-ashore kiss. She came up giggling. He tapped her nose and scooped me up beneath my arms.

“Always wanted to do that.”

“I am going to go back in time and castrate Sa- aaaahhhhh!” My scream rose in pitch and register as Skyrocket took off, before I recalled that perhaps such a howl was a tad unmanly even for myself. I clamped my lips tight and resisted the urge to jerk my legs up every time we passed over a building taller than two stories. My protests aside, I didn't particularly want to be dropped in the middle of the Huangpu.

Lung Di's tower curved into the sky with a gentle, serpentine twist, smoke-glass windows glimmering like scales in the nighttime lights of Shanghai.

“That's quite a light show.”

No mistaking what Tom was referring to. Red, gold, and green explosions burst around the serpentine twist of the tower like a localized storm, breaking my heart with every flash.

“Not our problem,” I yelled over the wind and the noise of Skyrocket's jetpack. As much as I wanted to stop the battle, I didn't want to attract Mei Shen's attention. She'd only stop me from dealing with David Tsung. I spied Song Yulan at the base of the building, next to an open service entrance. “Down there.”

I stumbled as Skyrocket released me without touching down himself. Song Yulan caught and steadied me. Tom streaked off again before I could tell him to hurry.

“Tsung?” I asked Song Yulan as she led me into fluorescent-lit hallways.

“Already at the basement ward. The PHC troops slowed him down a bit.”

“No idea what he wants?”

“Other than to beat you to Lung Di's sanctum?” She shook her head. “You should save your breath. It's a long way down.”

We slipped into an atrium. The peaked and faceted glass roof slithered up and around the building's core like a constrictor. I broke out in a sweat, my little mammalian hind-brain sending all sorts of conflicting signals –
freeze, run, hide, fight!
– as it bought into the illusion that I was trapped and immobile until the serpent could consume me. For all my bravado, I didn't feel up to facing off with Lung Di. At least the last time I'd had a plan. Now, I was just a mouse in his coils, scrabbling to get free of something too big to grasp.

Bursts of flame and smoke broke the cobalt darkness of the night sky beyond the atrium. Water rained down and spattered against the glass, breaking the light into fractals of reflection and shadow.

Maybe my death would heal the rift between my children. Bring them together against their common foe. Except I didn't think Lung Di wanted me dead. He was too complicated a villain for something so straightforward.

“I want an easier nemesis,” I muttered

“Pardon?”

“Nothing. Just wishing for horses.”

Song Yulan didn't bother to answer, didn't pause to gape at the battle above. She hurried across the empty lobby, feet silent on the marble. Only her palazzo pants made any sound, the silk swishing against itself. I pulled my hat lower and followed. We rounded a corner to the elevator lobby at the same time a contingent of four guards burst out of one of the bays. I ducked back as they raised their rifles, but I needn't have bothered. Song Yulan pulled out a prayer strip from somewhere and threw it at them. The curling ribbon of paper burst into a cloud of dandelion fluff that drifted down onto the guards. One of them had a moment to get off a yawn before all four collapsed into a snoring pile.

Song Yulan skirted the pile and avoided the elevators in favor of the stairwell.

The sounds of fighting reached us long before we reached the bottom floor. My thighs and calves burned from clattering down so many flights, and my knee was not terribly happy, but at least we were going down rather than up. Song Yulan didn't bother with the stairs. She just popped to the bottom of every flight and waited for me with nails clacking against the railing. I was starting to resent her as much as I did Johnny Cho.