The Dragon Men (24 page)

She remembered the final moments of her aunt's life, how Edwina had been forced to die in order to unleash the plague cure on the world. Alice had demanded to know why the world seemed to work on all or nothing, why there was no way to win without so much sacrifice. Aunt Edwina had promised to ask God. Alice herself intended to have a few choice words with the Almighty about the rightness of a world that endangered the lives of children in order to save everyone else.

Lady Orchid studied the stairs. They were marble inlaid with Chinese characters in jade, and they meant nothing to Alice, though the workmanship was absolutely stunning. It seemed a terrible shame to hide such lovely art in the dark on the chance that a single man might tread on it. Gavin would have thoroughly appreciated it.

Gavin. Alice climbed back onto the dragon and glanced upward. Where on earth was Gavin? She had been concentrating on the current plan so she wouldn't have to think about him haring off—flying off—and leaving her. A strange mixture of anger and worry mingled inside her. She had no idea why he had left after that brass nightingale had sung that song—their song—to him. The voice had been eerily similar to Gavin's, but it wasn't his. Perhaps it was a trap, designed to send him into a clockwork fugue and lure him away. But a trap set by whom? And if it were, why hadn't the person come after Alice as well? She carried the cure. She was the enemy to China. Who here was looking for him?

It couldn't be his
father
. Could it?

She turned the idea over in her mind. It made a certain amount of sense. Gavin's voice was similar to the one recorded in the bird, the way a son's voice might be like his father's. Gavin's father had been an airman, and airmen traveled far and wide, so there was no reason the man shouldn't be somewhere near a large city. If he were alive, he had to be somewhere, and why not Peking? More than one person had prophesied that Gavin would meet his father again, and although Alice had dismissed such things as superstition, some of them had mentioned a science that she hadn't been able to follow. Perhaps they had been right after all.

Still, all the explanations in the world didn't diminish their need for his help.

From her pocket she took the silver nightingale, the one she had thought unique in the world and only recently come to understand was only one of many. She pressed the left eye and murmured to it, “Gavin, where did you go? We need you.” That was stupid. Why was she holding back? She added, “
I
need you.”

She tossed the nightingale into the air. It sprang to life in the moonlight and fluttered away as Lady Orchid began a careful descent down the deadly stairs.

*  *  *

Still clutching the Ebony Chamber, Cixi finished the phrase to herself:
“Under the blessing of dragons.”
She reached the bottom, paused, and allowed herself a small sigh of relief. She hadn't been sure of herself. She had teased the code for the staircase out of Xianfeng more than two years ago after some pillow time together, but she hadn't been able to write it down and she hadn't been completely certain of her memory.

She checked behind her. Zaichun was coming down. She wasn't worried about him—his memory was excellent and he understood the consequences of making an error. The foreigners, on the other hand, were another matter entirely. Lieutenant Li and his soldiers, whom Cixi desperately needed on her side, were loyal only to the foreigners, so she couldn't afford for any of them to die. It grated on her to work with barbarians; yet it was also fitting, using foreigners to further the ends of the Chinese Empire. And she did have to admit they had figured out the secret of the Ebony Chamber whereas she had not. Clearly Western thought had
some
merit to it. Kung was right—when Zaichun controlled the Jade Hand, she would have to open wider relations with the West. It wouldn't mean abandoning everything Chinese for everything English—the very idea nauseated her—but there would be no harm in picking and choosing a few good concepts. This idea of encouraging girls to read, for example, had merit. Cixi's mother had fought long and hard to teach her the characters, and if she had not known them, she would never have reached her current position. Reading opened doors. Perhaps Lady Michaels would be willing to stay on as an adviser. No, it would have to be Lieutenant Phipps—she spoke a proper language. And there was another intriguing idea: women with military titles. Reading might open doors, but the army smashed them down.

Li arrived at the bottom of the steps, followed by Phipps. Cixi noticed the way Lieutenant Li hovered over Phipps the same way a windup hummingbird hovered about a steel flower. Was either of them aware of it?

With a dreadful crunching sound, the dragon spiraled around the final turn of the staircase. Spikes leaped out of the staircase to snap and ping off the dragon's feet and underbelly. Alice, her arms and legs tucked in close, sat in the precise center of the seat behind the dragon's head. It came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. Cixi backed away, holding the Ebony Chamber like a shield.

“There,”
Alice said through Lieutenant Li.
“And now we don't have to worry about one of the soldiers making a mistake.”

“Lady Michaels can be . . . direct,” Lieutenant Phipps added.

“I see.” Cixi's fingers were white around the Ebony Chamber's dark wood. “Is she aware that it will take one of the Dragon Men most of a week to repair all that? Not to mention the cost in silver?”

“I doubt she'll much care.” Phipps touched her monocle. “I imagine she would say something about taking the throne requiring a few sacrifices.”

“That was funny.” Zaichun giggled. “She's a dragon
lady
.”

“Indeed,” Cixi said as Alice moved the dragon aside for the soldiers.

“Are we going back home now, Mother?” Zaichun asked.

“We are, Little Cricket,” she told him, tearing her eyes away from the damage. “You will destroy the cruel man who has stolen your father's throne and take your rightful place upon it.”

“Does that mean I'll have to chop off my hand?”

Cixi hesitated. “You won't have to do it yourself, my lucky cricket. It will happen with such speed, you won't even feel it. And then you will wear the Jade Hand and be emperor of all China.”

“But . . . I don't want my hand to be chopped off.”

Anger flashed through Cixi, but she held herself in check. “I know you don't. But I also know you are brave and that you are willing to make this sacrifice for the good of the empire.”

Zaichun bit his lip, but he nodded once.

“And,” Cixi added, “remember that the Jade Hand will allow you to command the Dragon Men. You can make them do whatever you want.”

“Anything at all?”

“Anything at all.”

“Can I make them sing the yellow duck song and then jump into the moat?”

While they were speaking, the rest of Lieutenant Li's men came down the staircase. Nothing had gone truly wrong so far. If the Dao's lessons were at all correct, that meant something would go terribly wrong later. Cixi shuddered to think what it might be.

The tunnel was high and wide, big enough to accommodate a train. Phosphorescent lanterns glowed at regular intervals, casting a bright white and blue light that made a kind of daylight underground. The floor bricks were red and gold, and landscapes painted on the walls and ceiling changed the claustrophobic underground feel into a pleasant garden stroll. The colors looked perfectly normal despite the strangely colored lighting, and Cixi happened to know it had taken months of experimentation with pigment to figure out how to make a tree appear the proper shade of green when lit by phosphorescent blue. Under normal light, leaves would appear a sickly yellow.

The group proceeded ahead. Cixi and the dragon remained in the lead, with Phipps and Li as translators. Cixi was already resolving to learn the dreadful-sounding English language. It couldn't be hard, and it would certainly be convenient. Such thoughts were, she knew, deliberate distractions from fear of the task ahead. But that was the Chinese way—avoid, distract, delay. Confrontation was rare and difficult to deal with, and Su Shun's gift for it had given him the upper hand. Cixi had found new allies, however, who were talented with it as well.

They moved quickly down the damp tunnel. Alice still rode the dragon, though now she also brandished the wiry sword Gavin had made for her, while Li carried one of Gavin's new pistols. Cixi carried only the Ebony Chamber. A moment later, about when Cixi judged they were under the moat, four tongueless eunuchs in pale robes and wide conical hats appeared. Cixi quickly snatched four more jewels from the Chamber, one for each, and explained the situation again.

“These are my gift to you,” she finished, “and if—when—we succeed in our mission, you will be granted places of honor in the new court, and we will see if the Dragon Men can fashion new tongues of silver for you so that you may speak once again.”

That last was a lie. As long as they knew of passage, they couldn't be allowed to speak of it. Still, three of the eunuchs bowed their acceptance. The fourth began to make a bow, then changed his movements partway through and lunged for a bellpull.

Li fired his new pistol. It spat a bolt of orange energy that caught the eunuch in the chest. It flung him backward, but not before he managed to grab the rope. He flew through the air, yanking the bellpull as he went, his chest a smoky mess. A gong sounded, and the smell of cooked meat sizzled in the tunnel. The other three eunuchs sprinted off down the tunnel.

“Uh-oh,” Phipps said. “What did that alarm do?”

“I don't know,” Cixi said in a hushed voice.

A section of wall rumbled aside, and from it stepped a metal creature the size of an elephant. It had the body of a tiger, the claws of a crocodile, the tail of an ox, the antlers of a deer, the beard and teeth of a dragon, and the scales of a fish. Many different kinds of metal came together to create it—bronze, brass, copper, steel, and even gold. Atop its head was a small glass dome, and inside was a pink mass of human brain.

“Qilin!” Cixi cried.

The Qilin prowled forward, moving with agility that belied its size. It barred their way ahead of the tunnel. The soldiers fell flat on their faces in terror. Cixi herself quivered, and Zaichun huddled against her. Cixi's mother had told her a number of stories about the Qilin, a creature of power and grace that punished the wicked by roasting them in its fiery breath. The gods themselves smiled upon the Qilin, and only the dragon and the phoenix were more powerful.

“Holy God,” Phipps said. Cixi didn't know the language, but from her tone she guessed they were words of fear.

Li fired his pistol at it. The orange bolt bounced off the Qilin's metal hide and gouged a piece out of the painted tunnel wall. The Qilin turned and exhaled at him. Cixi smelled a terrible stench, then heard the
click
of a spark. Flame burst from the Qilin's mouth.

“No!”
Phipps screamed.

But Li was already moving. He dove straight toward the Qilin and slid under the flames on his belly to fetch up between the creature's forelegs. Phipps snapped out her brass hand, and a coil of wire snaked from the palm. To Cixi's amazement, it wrapped round the Qilin's mouth. Phipps yanked, and the Qilin's jaws snapped shut. Li scrambled to his feet, his movements slowed by the battery pack on his back. The Qilin reared back, and Phipps was pulled bodily into the air.

Alice barked something directly behind Cixi. She jumped aside as the dragon with Alice behind its head galloped forward. The dragon was barely half the Qilin's size, but that didn't seem to faze Alice in the slightest. The wire sword, now glowing blue, was raised high above her head, and she shouted in English. Cixi didn't know what to make of such a sight.

Phipps slammed into a wall, but she managed to twist so her brass arm took the brunt of it. Still, she was clearly dazed. The Qilin wrenched its mouth open, snapping the wire. Li scrambled around underneath it in a desperate dance to avoid being crushed by its pounding feet. The dragon reared up. Alice swung the sword, and it described an azure arc. With a
crack
it intersected the Qilin's shoulder. A chunk of metal fell out and crashed to the floor. The Qilin bellowed, the first sound Cixi had heard it make. It turned on Alice, who waved the sword and shouted again.

The Qilin lashed out with a heavy paw. Alice tried to make the dragon dodge, but the Qilin was faster. Caught by the blow, the dragon crumpled like a paper lantern. Alice gave a scream as her automaton crashed to the floor. Cixi put her hands over her mouth, frightened to death. Zaichun trembled behind her, and the soldiers remained motionless on the floor. The Qilin was overpowering. There was no way to defeat it. Lieutenant Li suddenly appeared again. He had abandoned his pistol and was climbing up the Qilin's side, using the scales as handholds. He gained a position above the glass dome that housed the creature's brain and raised both hands in a double fist. Cixi held her breath as he brought them crashing down on the glass.

They bounced aside without even a scratch to show for it. The Qilin shook itself like a dog, tossing Li off like a flea. Cixi heard the hissing sound of its breath. The Qilin would incinerate them all, as it incinerated all sinners and doers of evil.

Sinners. The Qilin—the creature from the fairy tales—punished only sinners. This one had been created by a Dragon Man and was controlled by a human brain, but—

Cixi ran forward. “Wait, holy one!” She flung herself to the ground before the Qilin and knocked her head on the floor as if she were approaching the emperor. The stench of the gas made her dizzy. She held her breath and waited for the
click
and the terrible pain of the flames.

Nothing happened. She risked a peek between the fingers that covered her face and saw the Qilin had stopped.