The Mummy Tomb of the Dragon Emperor (19 page)

He gaped in awe. “Bloody hell . . . It’s paradise.”

The cold snowy world from which the O’Connell party had come was nowhere to be seen—this was a perfect spring day under a nearly cloudless blue sky, a heaven on earth ringed with endless silken waterfalls, a breathtaking landscape of flowers and greenery and sunshine.

When Jonathan turned around to tell everybody about this Elysium, he saw they had trooped up stairs carved out of the cavern into a similarly carved-out dwelling space. He followed and was soon at his sister’s side, tending to O’Connell.

Minutes later, Alex, Zi Yuan and Lin strode back down the stairs to speak.

Lin’s mother’s face was taut with urgency. She said to her daughter, “Did the dragon dagger pierce the Emperor’s heart?”

Lin shook her head. “No, Mother. I have failed you.”

But Zi Yuan stroked her daughter’s cheek and gazed upon her with compassion. “I should never have let my vengeance become your burden . . . but you were not to involve mortals in these affairs.”

Lin gestured toward the dwelling, and nodded toward Alex. “If not for their bravery, the Emperor would have found the pool.”

“And yet he still may, now that he has risen.”

Alex jumped in with a grin. “Excuse me, ma’am, but don’t worry about ol’ clayface. He’s at the bottom of a gorge in a million terra-cotta pieces.”

Zi Yuan shook her head. “If he was not killed by the dragon dagger, then he is not dead.”

Alex frowned. “How can you be so sure?”

Her chin raised; light winked off golden earrings. “Because I am the one who cursed him. I enchanted his own dagger and dispatched the only person who could be trusted to watch over his crypt while I stood sentry over this sacred pool.”

Frowning in curiosity, Alex asked, “If I’m not out of line . . . ? What did the Emperor do to make you hate him so much? To make him worthy of such a curse?”

Her face was placid and so was her tone, but in Zi Yuan’s eyes, fires of vengeance burned. “He murdered the only man I ever loved—Lin’s father. For that I cursed him . . . and his army, as well.”

Zi Yuan held out her hand and Lin gave her the dragon dagger. She stared at its blade, her bitterness reflecting back at her.

“I would have died, too,” Zi Yuan said, “at the monster’s hands . . . and yes, he was a monster even before I cursed him . . . but the yeti found me, and brought me to this pool.”

Though math had never been his strong suit, Alex knew something was adding up strange. He turned to Lin and asked, “So, uh. . . how long exactly were you guarding the Emperor’s tomb?”

Calmly, without expression, as matter-of-fact as answering a phone, Lin said, “Two thousand years.”

Alex drew in a breath. His eyes widened. He let out the breath.

Lin steeled herself.

Zi Yuan had more important concerns. She was moving into the cathedral of rock, heading back toward the entrance through which the O’Connell party had come.

“The Emperor must not reach the pool,” she was saying, “or he will have the power to raise his entire army . . . You two stand guard here, at the pool itself. I will take first watch at the entrance.”

Elsewhere as the sun began to set and wash the rugged snowscape in scarlet light, the Emperor Mummy and his general climbed . . .

For what seemed like a long time, and which was perhaps two minutes, Alex and Lin sat on the steps of the pavilion, guarding the pool in awkward silence.

Finally Alex said, “For the record, you don’t look a day over one thousand . . . It’s a joke. You look incredible, period.”

That made her smile. “You are very sweet, Alex.”

“Again, for the record? I just want you to know—I have nothing against dating an older woman.”

But she shook her head. “I am afraid we cannot be together.”

He blinked at her. “Why?”

“Because I am going to live forever, and you aren’t. You will grow old and you will die. And I care for you too much to watch.”

He thought about that. Then he said, “So, instead of giving the two of us a chance at maybe having something great, you’re just going to sit on the sidelines . . . for all eternity.”

She avoided his eyes. “My mother has mourned my father for many centuries. I do not know if my heart could bear such a burden.”

He leaned in, not wanting to let her off the hook. “You know what
I
think, Lin? I think, immortal or not, a man and woman in love can live an entire lifetime . . . in just one look.”

She cocked her head and finally met his eyes. “How can you say such a thing?”

“Because I’ve seen it. I watch my parents do that every day.”

From above, from a window in the carved-out dwelling, Jonathan called, “Alex! Your father’s come around!”

He was up like a shot, and took the short flight of stairs the same way.

Zi Yuan’s chambers were decorated with almost monastic simplicity, and yet also bore a feminine touch, in splashes of colored fabric. On the simple, palletlike bed, O’Connell awoke to find Evy on one side and Jonathan on the other.

Looking at his wife, O’Connell said, his voice husky but surprisingly strong, “If this is heaven, it’s looking good so far.”

She stroked his head, then tangled her fingers in his hair. “If you ever leave me like that again, Rick O’Connell, I’ll kill you myself.”

Then, at the same time, they decided to kiss each other and did so in a passionate way usually reserved for either the end of the adventure or at least until they were alone behind closed doors.

From the entryway, Alex’s voice came: “Nice to see some things never change.”

O’Connell noticed something tentative in his son’s tone, despite the jaunty words.

Evy leaned close and whispered, “Go easy with him, darling. He blames himself for what happened to you.”

O’Connell got to his feet—without much trouble, surprisingly—and his son crossed to him.

Alex said, “When I saw you on the ground, all bloody like that . . . I was never so scared in my life.”

O’Connell grinned. “Well, that makes two of us.”

The boy shook his head, his eyes moist. “You’re not supposed to die, Dad—you’re Rick O’Connell, Ricochet Rick, remember? They can beat you up, toss you around, but you’ll still be standing at the end. I can’t really picture this world without you in it.”

The father, pleased but embarrassed, shrugged. “Son, I’m just a regular guy, trying to be a good husband and a good father. But as a husband and father, I guess sometimes I make a good mummy hunter.”

Alex laughed; so did his dad.

“Son, lately I’ve been dropping the ball. I’m sorry.”

The boy twitched a half smile. “Well . . . I haven’t exactly been in line for a World’s Greatest Kid trophy myself.”

O’Connell shrugged again. “You must get that streak from your mother’s side.”

Father and son hugged; then the boy’s mother joined them. It was a sloppy, sentimental moment and it was wonderful.

Taking a few moments away from standing watch at the cave entrance, Zi Yuan—the dragon dagger tightly in her grasp—slipped back into the cavern to speak privately to her daughter, who sat within the pavilion, staring at her own reflection in the pool. Then her mother’s reflection appeared there next to hers.

Lin turned to the woman, who sat beside her and touched her hand, gently. In ancient Mandarin, Zi Yuan said,
“You look tired. You should rest.”

“I will stay here and keep watch. We both have our responsibilities.”

The mother squeezed her daughter’s hand.
“I am sorry you have spent your life paying for my sins. For centuries I have dreamed of the moment when you would return to me.”

Lin swallowed.
“So many times, Mother, I have wanted to come home . . . knowing that I could not.”

Zi Yuan nodded.
“And now fate is about to deal its final hand. And if we are to defeat the Emperor, I must ask you to make one more sacrifice.”

“Anything, Mother.”

“You must give up your immortality.”

Lin frowned in confusion.

“Let me explain . . .”

But before Zi Yuan could do that, a comet of fire streaked across the cavern from behind them, a tongue of flame that seemed to lick the dragon dagger right out of Zi Yuan’s grasp and at the same time knocked both women onto the pavilion floor.

Striding into the cathedral-like cave with Yang trailing just behind, the terra-cotta mummy extended a hand and drew the dagger back to his own grasp, then returned the blade to a sheath it had left many, many centuries before. The dead eyes flashed with surprising life upon seeing Zi Yuan.

In the cave dwelling above, summoned by disturbing sounds, the O’Connells ran to a window carved from the stone and looked out onto the pavilion and pool. O’Connell, Evy, Alex and Jonathan all watched in horror as the Emperor Mummy strode up the short steps into the pavilion and waded into the blue waters, sinking deep, the red-brown clay figure disappearing beneath its surface.

All four ran from Zi Yuan’s chamber down the steps into the cavern and seemed to hit the brakes simultaneously as before their wide eyes the pool began to course with energy, swirling with ominous force.

“My God,” Evy said. “All of his powers will be fully restored . . .
forever . . .”

Then, slowly but inexorably, the Emperor’s head began to rise above the blue, swirling surface;
but terra-cotta no more!
This was Er Shi Huangdi’s human face, breaking the surface, only . . . then it happened again . . . an identical face bobbed up . . . and again . . .
three
Er Shi Huangdi faces!

“Third time,” O’Connell said, his hand feeling for a sidearm holster that was no longer there, “definitely not a charm . . .”

Each head revealed itself to be attached to a long, scaly neck, and then as the creature rose farther from the water, the three long necks could be seen to extend from a thick, snakelike body. The Emperor had shape-shifted into the very three-headed dragon that had always been his symbol.

But there was nothing symbolic about the way the creature rose until it finally popped the canopy from the pavilion as if the wood and gold roof were papier-mâché, crashing it down onto the cave floor. Columns toppled, as the dragon moved menacingly across Zi Yuan’s cave.

“Next time,” Jonathan said, “if no one objects, I may stay home . . .”

Proving it was indeed a dragon, the creature reared back all three heads and let loose torrents of fire, driving his enemies to cover. O’Connell had to pull Zi Yuan out of the way, as streaming fire scorched the cave around them, and Jonathan led Evy behind the slumbering Buddha, for cover. General Yang, running alongside the dragon, jumped into its taloned grip. Lin was against a wall, where she’d been flung, and was coming around just in time to see six mustard-colored eyes glow at her with vengeful lust.

From a charred recess where he’d taken cover, Alex jumped out and screamed, “Get
away
from her!”

But the dragon grabbed Lin in its left taloned foot and batted the boy away with a folded wing. And as the dragon swept past, Alex made desperate eye contact with Lin, promising her silently he would save her somehow, even though right now he was helpless to.

Then the creature was gone, flying through and out of the cave. They did not see the thing, wings spread, filling the air, but the snapping sound of those wings they most certainly heard, as it flew straight up and out of their world.

The walls of the cavern were smoking as everyone reemerged from their respective cover. The smell of it was sulfurous.

With stiff dignity, Zi Yuan said, “Er Shi Huangdi is taking my daughter back to his tomb. He will raise his army.”

Evy said, “Zi Yuan, is there a fast way down from here?”

“With the yetis’ help, there is.”

Alex was shaking his head. “But that thing is flying overland—we’ll be too late.”

O’Connell smiled grimly. “My bet is Maddog Maguire can outfly a three-headed lizard any day.”

Alex looked more frightened than O’Connell had seen him look since childhood.

The father slipped an arm around his son’s shoulder and squeezed supportively. “We’ll get her back, Alex. We’ll get her back, and make that monster pay.”

 
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