All the Gates of Hell (19 page)

There was an overall vaguely Eastern theme to the decor but, except for the lack of electronics the, place didn't seem much different than any other modern apartment. There was an overstuffed red sofa and chair, a small iron table and chairs by a big bay window. There were a few books, but they all seemed to be in Chinese.

"Nice apartment," Jin said as Madame Meng emerged from the kitchen.

"I must say I do prefer the current manifestation," Madame Meng said, smiling. "There was a time it was little more than one drafty room with a central hearth. Amazing how the perception of progress sometimes leads to the real thing. Please. Sit." The old woman lowered herself into the chair and Jin sat down on the couch.

"So," Madame Meng said, "what do you want to know?"

Jin thought about it for a moment. "First, I want to know if I... if the Guan Shi Yin who came to you, I mean, expected me to turn up?"

Madame Meng laughed. "Oh, child, it does get torturous, doesn't it? To be you and yet not 'you' at all." She looked thoughtful. "What do you call yourself now?"

"Jin. Jin Lee Hannigan."

"Well then, Jin Lee Hannigan, I have to tell you that the answer to that is also 'yes.' Guan Yin considered the possibility that you would find out about me and the Terrace of Oblivion."

Jin felt her hopes sink. "Damn...pardon my language, Madame Meng, but I hoped your answer would different. She forbade the Guardians to show me the way, so I thought 'maybe if I find another way..'"

"You're a clever one, incarnated or no," Madame Meng said. "And I must admit there's more than a little entertainment value watching you trying to outsmart yourself. I have so few diversions here." She apparently noticed the stricken look on Jin's face and patted her hand again. "Oh, don't look that way. Things aren't so bad as you fear. They may actually be worse."

"That's not exactly comforting," Jin said.

"Did you come to me for comfort? I thought you came here to find out the truth. While I don't claim to know it all, I believe I can give you a piece of it."

Jin frowned. "But you said -- "

"That Guan Yin had anticipated the arrival of her mortal incarnation here, and so you did. You're assuming that I promised not to reveal your own intentions to you."

"Well... didn't you?"

Madame Meng chuckled. "Oh, not at all, because you did not confide in me. Not that it would have made an ounce of difference -- you simply asked me as a friend for the gift of oblivion and I gave it to you. Do you think me such a poor sort of friend that I would turn about and take it away?"

Jin slumped back against the couch, defeated. "Then I'm wasting your time...or whatever it amounts to. I'll go now -- "

The tea kettle started whistling, and Madame Meng shook her head as she got up to attend to it. "Nonsense. Stay and have a cup of tea. We'll talk."

Jin wanted to make her excuses and go, but the sofa was comfortable and she was suddenly very tired. Getting up and going back outside seemed altogether too much bother, even for another glimpse of the wonders of the Ninth Hell.

"Do you take lemon or milk?" asked Madame Meng from the kitchen.

"Neither. Just a little sugar if you have it," Jin said absently.

"I have everything I want or need," Madame Meng said, as she emerged from the kitchen bearing a tray with a tea service and what looked like small cakes with chocolate and white icing. "Save the freedom to leave, other than for very short periods. It goes with the position. Let's take our refreshment by the window, shall we?"

Jin got up, feeling brittle and old, and trudged behind Madame Meng to the ironwork table by the window. Madame Meng set down the tray and went to pull open the curtains while Jin chose a seat and fell into it.

"You must be tired," Madame Meng said. "One of those limits of the flesh we have to deal with."

What Madame Meng said now and before on the terrace finally registered. "Are you incarnate too? Like me?" Jin asked.

"Since the day I was last born... I think you'd call it Han Dynasty China."

"But...aren't you a Bodhisattva?"

Madame Meng seemed to be having a bit of difficulty getting the curtains open. "No, just a very old woman." She glanced back at Jin. "That surprises you, doesn't it?"

"Well...yes."

Madame Meng nodded. "I wasn't the first to say this, but it's true: Never be good at something you don't want to
have
to do. The sad fact is, in order for the Ninth Hell to function, my elixir is required. I was a mortal woman but the only person with the skill to make that elixir. So..." She shrugged. "One bite of the Peach of Immortality and here I am -- immortal and in demand, but no more 'enlightened' than a tree stump. It's rather like one who maintains the path but can't walk on it. You might think of it as job security."

"I know you said you wouldn't trade," Jin said, "but I think you have a very difficult job."

Madame Meng smiled, then shrugged. "Sweet of you to say, but I'm suited for it, and that's the truth. I couldn't do what you do. But then you can't do what I do, either. Best for both of us that things worked out the way they did, yes?"

She finally got the curtains unsnarled and pulled them aside. Jin was reaching for a cake when she got her first good look at what lay beyond the window.

"Holy crap."

Madame Meng sat down and began to pour the tea. "That's a rather colorful way of describing it."

Jin had expected the window to show the same mountain view she'd seen on the way up. By her reckoning it pointed in the same direction, but the view was very, very different. Jin looked out over a blighted landscape, marred by smoking pits and lava flows. Demons were hard at work grabbing screaming, writhing people and dumping them headfirst into what looked like, and probably were, cauldrons of molten lead. Jin wondered dully if any of them were the unfortunate person that the Keeper of the Names was gathering the records for back in the First Hell. Madame Meng seemed to sense her thought.

"Hard as we both have it," she said, "I don't think either of us has anything on Emma-O. Did you know that he'd been demoted for a time?"

Jin just shook her head, staring with a mixture of horror and fascination out of Madame Meng's window, and the old woman went on. "It's true. To the Fifth Hell. Too lenient, it was said. That is his instinct, bless him. He's really a gentle sort. Yet he was not performing his function. We all serve in our fashion."

"It's horrible," Jin said.

Madame Meng shook her head. "Necessary."

Jin tore her gaze from the window. "Could you do this? Condemn a person to something this horrible?"

"No," Madame Meng said. "I could not. That's one reason I'm here and not King of the First Hell."

Jin glared. "I'm not sure I'd call that a failing."

Madame Meng smiled. "Suppose someone you loved was sick, and you knew a way to cure them. Would you do it? Whatever it was? Whatever it took? I know for a fact that you would."

Jin looked out the window. "Why doesn't this window show you the Ninth Hell?" Jin asked. "And for heaven's sake, why don't you keep those curtains shut?"

"Because I have everything I need," Madame Meng said, "Remember? And one thing I do need, and often, is a reminder that my burden, no matter how onerous, may not be so great after all. It's the sort of thing we can all do with, now and again. So. Drink your tea before it gets cold."

Jin wasn't really interested in tea now, but she stirred in a spoonful of sugar and took a sip. It tasted faintly of jasmine, and the aroma was heady. For a moment she closed her eyes and tried to forget about the horror outside Madame Meng's big bay window. She couldn't do it for long, despite the splendid tea.

"Is that the Avici Hell?"

Madame Meng just shrugged. "Possibly. The view changes now and again. I'm never really sure....ah, there it goes."

The scene did change, almost like someone had flipped a channel on an infernal remote. Now Jin and Madame Meng looked out on rolling hills that were covered in wicked looking black spikes. Men and women were impaled on those spikes but did not die. They twitched feebly but were unable to move.

"The Hell of Needles," Madame Meng said. "That one's easy to spot... Well, this has been a lovely visit and I appreciate your patience, Jin. So. Let's get down to business."

Jin blinked. "I don't understand. You said there was nothing you could tell me."

"Not a bit. I said that I didn't know your original plan, and that's true -- I don't. But I do know what you were running from."

"So do I," Jin said, "though I don't think I was supposed to. His name is Shiro. He's taken physical form in Medias and he's found me."

"Naturally," Madame Meng said.

Jin just stared at her for a moment. "What do you mean, 'naturally'?"

"I mean it was inevitable. Once Emma-O found you, it stood to reason that Shiro would, too."

"You know about Shiro? And Teacher... I mean Emma-O betraying me?"

Madame Meng had to put down her teacup, she was laughing so hard. Jin just stared at her with her brow furrowing in annoyance until the old woman regained control of herself. "Oh, child...is that what you think? That Emma-O betrayed you?"

Jin stiffened. "Of course. Shiro said that Emma-O told him where I was!"

"So first you believed he meant that literally, and then you jumped to conclusions. Did it not occur to you that he may just have meant the obvious? That he knew Emma-O was looking for you and if he'd chosen to incarnate in a particular hell, it could only mean that he'd found you?"

Jin started to argue, but stopped before she'd gotten the first word out. "Oh," she finally said. I didn't think of that."

"You haven't thought of a lot of things, Jin. You don't really know what's at stake here, do you?"

Jin nodded, looking glum. "It seems odd saying it, but I seem to have covered my tracks very carefully...at least so far as keeping the incarnate me in the dark. Every other aspect of my vaunted 'plan' seems to be a massive screw-up. If the idea was to keep me away from Shiro, then it didn't work. If there's more to it I haven't a clue as to what it might be."

"Still," Madame Meng said, and Jin reddened.

"I'm doing my best! Ok, so I'm not the brightest -- "

Madame Meng was laughing again. "Oh, Jin, you are priceless. You actually believe what you're saying... Jin, whatever you have been or will be, 'dim' is not one of them. Read your own legend sometimes."

"I have been!" Jin protested, but Madame Meng wasn't impressed.

"Well do it again, and pay attention this time. Take a good long look at your reputation: you're wise, powerful, compassionate... and I can personally swear to the truth of all of them."

Jin frowned. "But... didn't Guan Yin make a mistake? She married a mortal! And why? Did... do I, love him?"

"Of course. What do you think this has all been about? You're trying to help him."

"I mean as a woman loves a man," Jin said, and she realized she was blushing.

Madame Meng looked thoughtful for a moment. "At first glance, no. You're an Enlightened Being, remember? You've seen through the delusions of the world, including desire. That's what an Enlightened Being is."

"But I -- "

Madame Meng held up a finger for silence. "I wasn't finished, Jin Hannigan. Remember what I said above? 'Whatever it was. Whatever it took'?"

"You were talking about Emma-O."

"I was talking about you, too. If Guan Yin decided that the only way she could help Minamoto no Shiro was to fall in love with him, she would do it. I'm not saying you did; I don't know. But don't say it's not possible."

"But... even if that was the plan, it didn't work! That was thousands of years ago and he's still obsessed with me!"

"No, he's still in love with you. You really don't know what's at stake now, do you?"

Jin didn't know what to say. As infuriating as it had been to be kept in the dark, she had taken some comfort in hoping that, perhaps, the Guan Yin That Was knew what she was doing and that everything would work out. Yet after her discovery by Shiro and the little bombshell he'd dropped on her, Jin was having a harder and harder time hold on to this notion. With Madame Meng's help, that slim lifeline was unraveling completely.

"Does... does that mean you do know what's at stake?"

"Not entirely," Madame Meng admitted, "but I may have a better grasp than you do at the moment. As you may have guessed, I have a great deal of time on my hands and at my leisure I've given the situation some thought. Would you like to hear what I think?"

Jin just looked at her, and when she spoke her voice was barely above a whisper. "Please," she said.

Madame Meng nodded. "Fine, then. We'll start with Shiro, but you first. Tell me everything you think you know." She took a sip of tea and settled down to listen.

(())

Chapter 15

"It's worse than I thought," Madame Meng said, and that was all she said for a long time.

Jin didn't mind the silence; her throat was sore from talking and she was content to sip her tea and rest. She still felt tired and worn, but talking to Madame Meng came as a great relief; speaking to Teacher always felt like a confrontation regardless of whether it actually was. Jin, by contrast, felt no fight or flight stress from the Queen of the Ninth Hell. She felt almost like an old friend which, by what Madame Meng herself said, might even be true.

Still, Jin held onto her caution--it was one of the few things she still trusted. "You were right when you said that I didn't know what was at stake. I thought I did, when Shiro first appeared. He was like some great evil darkness, the way he was trapping that poor little girl in her own hell. Was I wrong about that?"

"About Shiro as a great evil darkness? I accept that his desires are so strong that they might affect others. That doesn't mean he was doing what you say on purpose."

Jin shrugged. "He must be. He seeks out those ready to pass over because he knows I must go to them too."

Madame Meng nodded. "Yes, but that doesn't explain why he would interfere. Not that the little girl wasn't trapped already, I suspect, but you're saying he was deliberately feeding her delusion."