The Conclave of Shadow (11 page)

“Hell no. I thought you were just a pretty face to fuel fangirl moe.” Which earned me another ear flick.

“Lung Di's protections against the Voidlands weren't the only ones in San Francisco, though they were the strongest. The other wards are picking up the slack, which means they're falling out of balance more quickly and need to be realigned on occasion.”

I could feel that realignment, the shift in energy. In flow. The crowds moved more easily, without the stops and stalls from before. The door patter as we passed rose and fell like a melody brought back in tune. It baffled me how I'd missed it before.

“My balance was off. That's why you were able to take me down. Each time, you maneuvered me into some sort of roll because you knew when I came up, my balance would be off.”

Johnny chuckled. “She can be taught.”

I resisted making a face. I'd sort of deserved that. I followed him back up to his studio and grabbed my backpack. The kids for his Lil' Ninjas class had already started trickling in. Johnny went into teacher mode, accepting their bows, greeting the parents.

I caught his attention briefly on the way out. “If you happen to see Mei Shen, tell her I'm sorry. Tell her I'm ready to hear what she and Tsung have to say. That I'm ready to help.”

Johnny winked at me. “I'll make sure she knows.”

The kids waved at me as I headed out. They knew me; sometimes I stuck around to let Johnny use me as his demonstration dummy. I waved back, feeling lighter, happier than I had in days. I had something that might resemble a direction. I headed out to the main drag to enjoy the restored flow of Chinatown.

I
walked home on autopilot
, diverting through the alley behind the house because while the news vans had mostly given up, you never knew when some erstwhile paparazzo would get creative in his stalking.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I almost ran headlong into the woman lounging against our back gate.

“As – ah – ha… Hi.” Fuck. I backed up a few steps and weighed my options: bolt or play it cool?

I sucked at playing it cool, but it was too late to bolt. “Can I help you?” I asked, as though strange Indian women made a habit of hanging out at my back gate. As though I didn't know her immediately. Stupid. She knew who I was. Had to. Why else would she be here, smiling at me as though she wished I was on fire so she could refuse to spit on me?

Asha tilted her head, one perfect brow arching. “Really? You're going to cling to the pretense?”

My hands formed fists in my pockets. “Abby told you?”

“Abby wouldn't tell me if I had a piece of spinach in my teeth. What makes you think she'd share your secrets?”

“Then…” Shit, had I given myself away?

“We met before, you and I. When you were Mistra? You made quite an impression, you and your little asura. When I saw Mr Mystic at the Academy… well, it is not that difficult to put this and that together.” She waved a languid hand at me, at the house behind her. “There are only so many Shadowborn sorcerers in the world, and few so naturally gifted.”

Shadowborn? I wanted to ask, but I was already feeling doubly off-kilter. Doubly exposed. I didn't want to talk to her any longer than I had to. Certainly not out here in the open, and no way was I going to invite her into my house. I was still making things up to Shimizu for the last femme fatale intrusion.

“Look, Asha. I'm sorry. About the other night, about what we forced you into. If there is any way I can make it up to you. Any way I could undo it–”

Her laughter cut my apology short. “Oh dear, you mean Abby was right? Mr Mystic abandoned us because he felt guilty?”

Laugh she might, but I remembered her fear and fury. Just because she didn't seem to hold a grudge didn't make my actions right or righteous. I straightened my posture, pulled my hands from my pockets to let them hang loose at my sides, seeking balance in becoming a little bit more my grandfather. “I am not proud of my actions or their impact on you, and I felt it best to remove myself before I continued to act in a questionable manner.”

“My goodness, you're as uptight as that Skyrocket fellow. They should team you two up. Get you a radio show. Something… old fashioned for the whole family.” She pushed away from the fence, searching my expression for a reaction. “Does this mean you have no interest in the Conclave's agenda anymore? Not worried at all about what they took?”

“I'm concerned about their activities, but Argent's problems are not my concern. Especially when I can't agree with their solutions.”

“Hm. And if I told you I needed your help to fill the terms of my contract? The one you helped force me into?”

I studied my feet, the wide cracks in the old asphalt of the alleyway. I used to play lava monster out here, jumping from patch to patch and pretending to teeter at the edges, a moment of poor balance away from falling to my doom. “If there's something you need of me, forward the specifics to Mystic's lawyer and I will consider it.”

Asha nodded, smile fading. “Fair enough. I promise I'll be circumspect about this rather silly ruse of yours.”

The tightness in my shoulders relaxed a hair. “My thanks.”

“Oh, it's not a kindness on my part. It's just more valuable to me as a secret.” She stepped aside to let me pass, smiling at my scowl. “You know it's my own fault, getting this close to Argent. I was practically begging for Abby to come after me, all for some Ida Redbird pottery.”

I flinched at the rape culture rhetoric. I'd been guilty of it myself; I could hardly take her to task for it. And there was nothing I could say about it that wouldn't earn me more mockery. “I hope this gives you and Abby a chance to work out your differences. Good day, Asha.” I slipped through the gate and shut it on the echo of more laughter.

S
unday found
me testing my new resolution for a balanced approach as I climbed too high on a too-old wooden ladder to clean the cobwebs from the eaves of our front landing. Living in one of San Francisco's historic painted ladies was pretty awesome, but you had to take upkeep seriously or you'd start to skew a little too Addams Family. A perfectly harmless house spider had bungeed down to say hi to Shimizu the night before. I'd offered to take care of the issue as part of my ongoing penance.

A penance I might die for. The ladder rocked as I climbed another rung above the recommended safety step so that I could reach the corner furthest from the door. Forget running with scissors. My epitaph was going to read
Missy Masters: Her reach exceeded her grasp
.

The ladder steadied underneath me, which surprised me so much that I almost tumbled off it. I dropped my duster and grabbed at the top step before I followed the duster's tumble over the porch railing to the pavement far below.

Mei Shen grimaced up at me in apology, both hands on the sides of the ladder. “Sorry. It looked like you were going to fall.”

“It's okay. Heart attack's a more dignified way to go.” Keeping my grip on the top step, I carefully climbed down to terrace firma. Then I tossed caution after my duster and pulled my daughter into a rib-crunching hug.

For once, she returned it just as hard instead of trying to squirm away.

“You spoke to Johnny?” I hadn't expected to see her, not this soon, and certainly not without Tsung attached to her side.

“Yeah.” Now she squirmed. I let her go. “He can be really annoying. But I figured we had tickets, so…” She shrugged.

“Tickets?”

“Alcatraz? The ferry? Mother, we talked about it weeks ago.”

I remembered her talking about it, though nothing of any plans. Still, I wasn't going to let this chance go because of an early-onset senior moment. “Right. I just thought… with everything… let me change?”

I stored the ladder and abandoned Mei Shen as a captive audience to Luis and his ever-thickening wedding plan album while I rinsed off and layered up. I'd never been to Alcatraz. It was another one of those things you only did when family came to town, which was on my not-so-much list. But everyone talked about how cold and windy it could be, even in summer. When Shimizu's parents visited for Christmas, her father couldn't stop repeating that he'd left Oskaloosa to escape weather like that. It had been fun to watch Shimizu laid low by Dad humor.

“So, what did happen with Argent?” Mei Shen asked after I'd rescued her and we'd set off down the hill toward Fisherman's Wharf.

I dug my hands in the pockets of my coat and told her everything I'd been up to since the Academy, leaving nothing out. Not the stuff I was certain Argent would want to keep classified, not the subjugation of Asha, not even my meeting with Lung Di.

And yet, strangely, it was the Lady who seemed to catch Mei Shen's attention.

“You're sure she's not a member of the Conclave?” Mei Shen asked as we boarded the ferry. The crowds were thick enough that we had to go to the open top deck to find two empty seats together at the back of the ferry. Even at dock, the wind whipped past us hard enough to pull hair loose from my French braid. It would be even worse out on open water. I resigned myself to eating my own hair for the rest of the day.

“Who can say? I only ever hear them talked about as a nameless collective. I don't think so, though. She didn't seem fond of them, and Templeton… he serves the Conclave, but he was afraid of her. Why?”

Mei Shen rose up on one knee, watching with interest as we pushed away from the dock. “You know about uncle's fading protections. David and I are doing what we can to restore them, but I'm untrained and his blood is diluted by many generations. I've heard mention of this Lady, but it sounds like she's much more powerful than I'd been led to believe. If she doesn't like the Conclave…”

“The enemy of my enemy?”

“Exactly.” Mei Shen went to the rail as we came about, leaning over it to watch the engines churn the water. The wind blew her hair across her face as we picked up speed.

I might have joined her, but the bump of the ferry over the choppy waters was making my breakfast sit funny. I pressed my hand to my belly, grateful to the wind for drying the clammy sweat from my face and neck. It only got worse as we headed further into the bay. I gripped the edge of my seat as if that could steady me against the rocking of the boat, and bit my tongue for pride because… really? I was getting seasick on a damned bay ferry?

Pride gave way to nausea before we were halfway across to Alcatraz. “Mei Shen. I… I have to go below.” If I was going to puke, it was going to be over a porcelain god, not over the side of the ferry.

Mei Shen's excited grin died when she turned to look at me, and she helped me down to the latrine.

Given the boarding announcements' warning of rough waters, I shouldn't have been surprised that the ferry crew knew how to deal with my situation. An absolutely lovely young park ranger brought Mei Shen cool cloths for my face and bottled water for me to sip after I'd emptied my stomach. When we finally docked and the ferry stilled, he told me to take my time until the nausea passed.

“You're welcome to return on this ferry, but most folks like to rest up a bit if they have this bad a reaction. There's a cafe, and they have Dramamine at the park station. Might make for an easier trip back?”

“Thank you so much, Dylan,” Mei Shen said, giving him a shy smile that was pure theater. Great. I was dying and my daughter was flirting.

“No worries. I'll check in on you once the ferry's clear.”

Mei Shen's smile disappeared when Dylan left us. She prodded me upright and toward the gangplank.

I stopped halfway down the ramp. My nausea had returned in full measure, but the ferry was relatively still. This wasn't motion sickness. I planted my feet against Mei Shen's prodding like Old Bessie being led to the abattoir.

“Mei Shen, we have to leave.” The little dock and entry plaza looked perfectly safe. The most dangerous thing about it was the seagulls stalking tourists for whatever food they could snatch away. A knot of people clustered around the souvenir kiosk and ranger station – just arrived or waiting to leave. Most of our fellow ferry riders were already walking up the long drive to the main cell block. The wind on the eastern side of the island wasn't nearly as strong as it had been on open water. The midmorning sun shone brightly on the pale stone and crumbling concrete of the buildings.

But there was something else, a darkness only I could sense. I wondered if this was how the presence of the Shadow Realms felt to other people, this miasma of terror and despair surrounding the island, thin as a scream and thick as oil.

“It's fine, Mother. We'll get tea at the cafe and you'll feel better.” Mei Shen tugged me forward. I stumbled, then balked again. I could feel the edges of the veil like cobwebs brushing my skin.

“No, you don't understand.” I held her arm for balance and caught the brief tensing of her muscles, the guilty glance away. My daughter was good at lying – to everyone but me. I gaped at her. “You do. You do understand. You brought me here deliberately. You want me to go into that?”

How many times had Mei Shen faced off against me with that stubborn glower – times when she knew she'd done wrong and was doubling down by refusing to admit it? We inherit more than genes from our parents. “I need you to take me across it. I don't have the skill, and David won't take me. You're the only person I trust who has enough command of shadow to do it. I didn't know it would affect you like this.” She frowned down at the water bottle crinkling in my fist. “It's only a ward. You should feel better once we're across.”

“Across into what?” I hissed. The gangplank jostled under our feet, making my stomach roll dangerously. Dylan had finished whatever shore duties had taken him away and was heading up the ramp toward us. I could grit my teeth and tell him we were heading back with the ferry. I should. But Mei Shen had to have put me through this for a reason. “You're the one worried about trust? Try talking to me instead of lying to me. What's going on?”

“Nothing but a bit of recon. They won't even know we're here.”

“Who? What is this place?”

“On this side? Alcatraz. Across the veil?” Mei Shen chewed her lip for a moment, then nodded as though coming to a decision. “It's the Citadel of the Conclave of Shadows.”

D
ylan was infinitely understanding
when I told him that yes, I would be disembarking, and that I just needed another minute.

“You realize I have no fucking clue what I'm doing?” I hissed when he left Mei Shen and me alone again on the gangplank. “Your father's lessons in Shadow Realms matters basically boiled down to ‘stay away', and my grandfather wasn't much more forthcoming.”

And yet, my recent crash course in Shadow writing and summoning rituals had reinforced a few things I'd started to realize in Shanghai. Rituals and wards and other sorts of magic followed rules, which meant you could bypass them if you understood what they were meant to keep out. The wards around Alcatraz seemed to be a perfect example. Regular people could clearly pass through easily enough. Mei Shen couldn't, but neither was she affected by the nausea that had flattened me. She'd said it was because her blood was too thin – her blood on my side, inherited from my grandfather.

“So what happens if we trick the wards into thinking we're not connected to Shadow?” I mused, digging through my backpack. Somewhere in there–

“Hah!” I pulled out a Sharpie. I was tempted to do myself first and head down the ramp to protect Mei Shen, but if there was any validity to my blood theory, then she'd be more likely to get through safely than I would. “Give me your arm.”

Mei Shen pushed up her sleeve, and I scrawled the Lady's ward across her pale underarm, cutting her off from her connection to the Shadow Realms. She shivered and swayed. “That feels… weird.”

“Give it a go.” I glanced back at Dylan, standing at the top of the gangplank and watching us with a frown. I scrawled the sigils up my own arm, and my nausea quickly receded. Better than Dramamine.

Mei Shen took a cautious step down the gangplank, then another and another, picking up speed. She skipped down to the bottom and disembarked with a little hop. “It worked!”

My daughter, skipping and hopping her way into probable doom. Apparently, her brother had inherited all the good sense. I followed at a more sedate pace. Just as apparent, none of that sense had come from me.

“Now what?” I asked. The feeling of dread that had receded when I scrawled the sigils disappeared entirely the moment I stepped on land, a bit like I'd stepped out of a fogbank and into sunlight.

“Um. Tea?”

Mei Shen and I planned while I settled my stomach with some ginger tea – my own, dug out of my pack. The best the little cafe could offer was Bigelow. We agreed it would be best if I retained the sigils. They rendered me blind to the movement in the Shadow Realms, but I could sense something big and ominous looming behind my crappy Sharpie ward, and I didn't want to do anything to call its notice down on me. We reasoned that Mei Shen's thinner blood gave her some level of protection against the ward, so it might also keep her from being noticed. The fact that she was a dragon was also a big plus. Worse came to worse, I had my Sharpie on hand to renew her wards. We found a hand sanitizer station and she rubbed her skin red removing the protection.

As ready as we could be, we headed up the hill toward the cell house for our headsets and the tour.

Alcatraz deserved its reputation. It was a cold, cruel, eerie place, the sort of place that seemed to feed the Shadow Realms. The crumbling bits like the Military Chapel and the Officer's Club were the nicest parts. The gulls and cormorants had reclaimed them from human use, prisoners to nobody. Weeds and wildflowers burst free of the cracks alongside exposed, rusted rebar and window casings. Thick coyote brush grew up against the foundations, and streaks of white birdshit painted the crumbling stone walls. Yes, the most pleasant thing about Alcatraz was the birdshit-streaked walls.

Up in the main cell house, it was a different story. Grime covered both walls and windows, making everything grey and dreary even on a sunny day. Sound bounced strangely through the cell blocks, the wind a constant rise-and-fall of hollow notes.

I wasn't sure what it had been like when The Rock was a prison, but it remained an eerie example of state control even as a tourist attraction. A gaggle of pre-teen boys shuffled along ahead of Mei Shen and myself, some school group, but there was none of the roughhousing or jostling I'd expect. Everyone moved quietly from station to station under the steady instruction of the voices in their headphones. There was little conversation, no laughter. It was a well-ordered passion play of the systematic degradation of the human spirit, giving us all a taste of what might await us if we transgressed. Fear and remembered despair hung in the air, a miasma that weighed down everyone's shoulders and spirits.

The miasma here at Alcatraz was result of decades of suffering, evils large and small –gods knew we were aces at fucking ourselves over seven ways to Sunday without any supernatural support – but I was hardly surprised that the Conclave had noticed and cultivated such a place as its base of operations. Even the Lady's sigils weren't enough to completely disguise the taint of shadow in the air. I shuddered to think how it would feel if my connection to the Shadow Realms hadn't been blocked, and shot concerned glances at Mei Shen. Her smile had fled. She didn't blink enough, as though reluctant to close her eyes even for a moment, and her hand when she took mine was clammy.