Necropolis (32 page)

He crossed the room and pulled on a cord that drew back the curtain. Jamie gasped. Matt stepped forward. At first he thought he was looking at a strange ladder leading up to the balcony above, but then he realized that it was actually made up of antique swords, each one polished until it shone, lashed together in a wire frame with the edges of the blades facing upward. Theoretically, it might be possible to climb. But he doubted it. As soon as you rested your body weight on one sword, you would cut your foot in half. Even if you were light enough, the climb to the top would be agony. It was a long way to the balcony. Matt counted nineteen steps. Nineteen chances to slice yourself apart.

"In my time as Master of the Mountain, three initiates have claimed to be the Buddhist Messiah," Shantung explained. "They asked my permission to be allowed to climb the ladder, and I was glad to give it.

Watching their attempts was a fascinating experience. One of them almost made it to the top before he fainted. Sadly, he broke his neck in the fall."

"What about the other two?" Matt asked.

"One cut off the fingers of his left hand on the first step and chose not to continue. The other bled to death."

"This is insane!" Richard couldn't restrain himself anymore. "Matt isn't claiming to be your Buddhist Messiah or whatever you want to call it."

"He is claiming to be one of the Gatekeepers. If he is who he says he is, he has nothing to fear."

"And if we say no? If we refuse to perform your little party trick?"

"Then I will not help you. You will leave Macao. And the girl will die, slowly, on her own."

Richard swore under his breath. Jamie came forward and stood next to Matt. "I don't mind giving it a try," he said quietly.

"Thanks, Jamie," Matt replied. "But I brought us here. _ I think this one's down to me."

He took a step closer, but Richard held out a hand. "Forget it, Matt!" he said. "You don't need to do this.

There are plenty of ways we can get into Hong Kong without this maniac's help."

"We can't go in on our own," Matt said. "One of us has to try."

"You're going to cut yourself to pieces."

"After the first finger, I promise I'll stop."

He went over to the ladder. Any hope that it might not be as dangerous as it looked vanished at once.

The swords were fixed rigidly in place by the wires. The blades were pointing toward each other so that as he climbed up, the hilts and the points would be on alternate sides. The swords had been sharpened until they were razor-thin. He rested a finger on one and almost cut through the skin just doing that. If he had dropped an envelope onto it, he would have sliced it in two.

Could he do it? Every instinct told him that he couldn't, that it was impossible, that he was being asked to mutilate himself. He closed his eyes. Was there any way out of this? Did they really need this man's help? Hong Kong was only fifty miles away. They could get on a Jetfoil and take their chances. Why would they want to involve themselves with gangsters anyway?

But he knew he was fooling himself. Scarlett was in trouble. If he'd wanted to go into Hong Kong on his own, he could have done it a week ago. There was no other way. He opened his eyes. "All right," he said.

"Remove your shoes," Shan-tung commanded.

"Sure," he muttered. "Shame to waste good leather." Right then, he was wondering if he would ever wear shoes again. He took them off, and his socks as well, for good measure. He could feel the wooden floor, cool against the soles of his feet. He flexed his toes.

"Matt…" Richard tried one last time.

"It's okay, Richard."

Matt didn't look at him. He didn't look at any of them. He knew there was only one way this was going to work. He had to focus completely on the task ahead of him. Nineteen steps. He had once seen people walking on hot coals on television. And in India, fakirs did incredible things with their bodies. Matt remembered what he had done in the Nazca Desert. He had taken a bullet in full flight and turned it back on the person who had fired it. Mind control. That was what this was all about.

He reached out and gently took hold of one of the swords. He felt the blade cut through his skin. It hurt.

Blood welled out of the palm of his hand.

"That's enough!" Richard exclaimed. "You can't do this."

"Yes. I can."

Matt gritted his teeth. He knew the mistake he had made. He had been thinking too much about the impossibility of what he was supposed to do. When he moved things without touching them, it never occurred to him that he couldn't do it. That was how the power worked. It was part of him, and he could use it anytime. This task might seem different, but the principle was just the same. Nineteen steps. He wasn't going to hurt himself a second time. He was a Gatekeeper. He had nothing to fear.

He forgot Richard. He forgot where he was. The balcony above him — that was all that mattered. He let the swords blur in front of him. They were no longer there. He reached out with one hand. At the same time, he lifted his left foot and rested his bare sole on the first blade. There was no going back now.

Richard had seen many unforgettable things in his time with Matt, but this was the most incredible of all. He watched Matt begin to climb, one sword at a time, resting his entire weight on edges that were clearly razor sharp. He seemed to be in a self-induced trance, moving steadily upward as if he were levitating. Already he was halfway up, and he hadn't cut himself at all. Next to Richard, Jamie stared in wonderment. Even Han Shan-tung looked quietly impressed.

He reached the top. He climbed off the ladder and stood on the balcony. Nobody spoke. Shan-tung hurried to the side of the room and took a staircase that also led up. Matt waited for him. There was a single wound on his right palm, the result of his false start, but otherwise he was unharmed.

The Master of the Mountain reached him. He was holding a bandage. He bowed low, then handed it over. "I apologize for questioning you, Matthew," he said — and he sounded completely sincere. 'You are indeed one of the Five, and it is my honor to be able to help you."

Matt took the bandage and wrapped it round his hand. At the same time, he noticed an altar on the far side of the balcony, hidden from the room below. There were several gold bowls, incense sticks, two crouching Buddhas, and, between them, a jade figure of a young girl, slim with long hair falling in waves around her shoulders.

"That is Lin Mo," Han Shan-tung said. "It is the answer to the question that you asked me earlier. Lin Mo is the name of a young girl in Chinese legend. She was born in Meizhou, in the eastern Guangdong province. She had the power to forecast the weather. And she grew up to become the goddess of the sea, very important to the sailors who explored these uncharted waters. She is still worshipped in Macao."

He moved over to the altar and bowed in front of it.

"This figure is very precious to me," he continued. "It is Ming dynasty. From the seventeenth century. It is said to be a true representation of Lin Mo, copied from an earlier work."

Matt recognized the face. He remembered the picture he had seen in the newspaper. "It's Scarlett, isn't it?" he said.

"The girl that you know as Scarlett was also born in Meizhou. It was always our belief that she was the reincarnation of Lin Mo. And it is true, yes, that in appearance the two are identical."

"So you're going to help us."

Shan-tung nodded. "You must leave very soon," he said. "Come now with me to my study and we will make the final preparations."

He led Matt over to the staircase, and the two of them made their way down. Richard and Jamie were waiting for him.

"That was quite a trick," Richard muttered through clenched teeth.

Jamie said nothing. He rested a hand briefly on Matt's shoulder. He was glad that it hadn't been him.

They followed Shan-tung back down the corridor and into a study that also overlooked the garden. It was an austere room with a large desk, a few shelves of books, and little else. His whole manner had changed. He was still in command, a man who was used to being obeyed instantly, but he was being a little quieter about it. Had he really expected Matt to climb the sword ladder? He seemed shaken by what he had seen.

He took out a map and laid it on his desk. Matt glanced at his watch, wondering how long this would take. It was already ten o'clock.

"The Old Ones may control the city," Shan-tung said, "but if they have underestimated the size and extent of the Triads, then they have made a fatal mistake. I have a thousand foot soldiers that I can place at your service. If called to do so, they will not hesitate to lay down their lives for you. That is our way.

The man who commands them is called Lohan. His rank is 438, which we also call Incense Master. He will meet you when you arrive in Hong Kong."

"How do we know we can trust him?" Richard asked.

"Very simply, Mr. Cole. He is my eldest son. You will recognize him because his face is scarred." Shantung drew a line with his finger, starting on his left cheek and crossing his mouth. "A man was sent to kill me with a jian, a Chinese sword. Lohan got in his way. If it were not for him, I would be dead. This is where you will meet…"

His finger stabbed down on the map, at a point close to the waterside.

"I have a legitimate business delivering fireworks to Kowloon. There is a warehouse next to the Salisbury Road, and it is there you will be taken. Scarlett was also there before she was captured. You don't need to worry — the location is still secure.

"We are trying to discover where Scarlett is being held prisoner, but so far we've had no luck. It is possible that she is here." He pointed again, this time to a street on the other side of the water. "This is The Nail. It is on Queen Street, and it is the headquarters of the Nightrise Corporation. If the girl is there, Lohan will lead an assault on the building. You will be with him.

"The Tai Shan Temple with the door that you were seeking is also on Queen Street." He pointed to a crossroads close to a patch of green with what might be a lake in the middle. 'You would be wise not to go there, as it is almost certainly being watched. But once you have the girl, the rules will change. It is less than a quarter of a mile away, close to Hong Kong Park. Lohan will help you enter the compound.

He will kill anyone who gets in your way. You will enter the temple, and the door will take you wherever you want to go."

"But what if Scarlett isn't at The Nail?" Richard asked.

"Then you will have to search for her. Perhaps her father will be able to help you." The finger slid across the page. "Paul Adams has returned to Wisdom Court, the apartment block where he lives. It is here, on Harcourt Road. Be warned: He was with her when she was captured and may have had a hand in what took place. We can't trust him. Even so, he may know where she is."

"And you think he'll tell?" Matt asked.

"We will make him tell us." Han Shan-tung muttered the words casually, but there was something about the way he spoke that made the skin crawl.

He seemed to have finished. Matt was exhausted. He was looking forward to getting to bed. But then Han Shantung went over to the desk and took a mobile phone out of one of the drawers. He handed it to Richard. 'You can use this to contact me at any time of the day or night," he explained. "The speed dial is already set. Just press one, and it will connect you directly."

"So when are we leaving?" Jamie asked.

Shan-tung turned and looked at him. There was no expression on his face. "The boat is already waiting for you," he said. 'You must enter Hong Kong under cover of darkness. You leave tonight."

TWENTY-SIX

Into Hong Kong

The boat was tied up at Porto Exterior, the outer port of Macao. Han Shan-tung had said a brief good-bye in the hallway of his home, and now Matt, Jamie, and Richard were being driven across the city through half-empty streets. It was raining again, and the sidewalks, black and glistening, had been deserted by the crowds, many of them sheltering in the casinos, throwing their money after dice and cards in the artificial glare of the chandeliers.

They were all tired. Jamie was half asleep, his head resting on the window, his long hair falling across his face. Richard was sitting next to him. Matt could tell that he was angry — with Shan-tung for arranging the ordeal of the sword ladder and with himself for allowing it. Matt was in the front, beside the driver. The speed of events had taken him by surprise. He had only just arrived in Macao and already he was leaving. He thought about what might lie ahead of him in Hong Kong and wondered if he was doing the right thing. It was obvious now that the whole place was a trap, set up by the Old Ones. And yet, he was walking straight into it.

But they wouldn't be expecting him…not like this. That was what he told himself. And there was no other way. He couldn't leave Scarlett on her own any longer. It had already been too long. It was his responsibility to find her and bring her out. He was a Gatekeeper. It was time to take control.

The ferry terminal was ahead, but they didn't drive into it. Instead, the driver took them down a narrow road that led to the water's edge and stopped. They got out, bracing themselves against the cold night air.

For a moment, Matt and Richard found themselves standing next to each other. "Do you really think we should trust these people?" the journalist muttered, putting into words what he had been thinking all along. "They're Triads. Do you know what that means? Drugs and guns. Gambling. They'll chop up anyone who gets in their way — including you and me. Between them and the Old Ones, I wouldn't have said there was a lot to choose."

A few hours ago, Matt might have agreed. But he remembered how Han Shan-tung had looked at the statue of Scarlett, or Lin Mo, as he preferred to call her. "I think they're on our side," he said.

"Maybe." Richard reached out for Matt's injured hand and turned it over. There was a dark stain seeping through the bandage. "But he still shouldn't have done that to you."

"I did it to myself," Matt said. "I wasn't concentrating."