Everything Under the Sky (50 page)

Read Everything Under the Sky Online

Authors: Matilde Asensi

Tags: #Mystery, #Oceans, #land of danger, #Shanghai, #Biao, #Green Gang, #China, #Adventure, #Kuomintang, #Shaolin

BOOK: Everything Under the Sky
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In other words, we were jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire.

“Don't waste any more time, and don't make me waste it either,” he urged. “Leave. I have much to do. We'll see one another outside in a few hours.”

It had been so long since I'd used a watch that to a certain extent I'd learned how to calculate the passing of time intuitively. I knew that if we were barely going to make it out of the mausoleum, even counting on all the good fortune possible, there was no way Lao Jiang was going to make it out unless he had some unknown and unlikely resource. I'm sure he knew it, too.

“Good-bye, Lao Jiang,” I said.

“Good-bye, Elvira,” he replied with a ceremonious bow. “Good-bye, everyone.”

Fernanda and Biao remained motionless. My niece had an indignant look on her face, and Biao's eyes were red, his head hung.

“Come on,” I ordered. The clock had started to count down, and if we knew what was good for us, we had to try to beat it. No one moved, so I grabbed the children by the arms and pulled them out of the room. “Let's go, Master Red Jade!”

Lao Jiang had kept the only torch, so our flight was going to be in darkness, at least through that outer sarcophagus. Luckily, we remembered the way and were soon in the front hall with that sea of skeletons before us. I stopped.

“Master,” I said hurriedly, “I think it would be best to leave our bags here. We'll take what's most valuable and run.”

Master Red nodded, and the children pulled out great handfuls of precious stones, gold coins, and jade figurines, stuffing them into their many big pockets.

“Fernanda, make sure you take the mirror. Put it inside your jacket.”

“The mirror?” she asked in disbelief. “That's the last thing I was going to take. It's big and awkward,” she said contemptuously. She was angry, not at me but at Lao Jiang.

Apart from filling his pockets with treasures, Master Red placed his cherished
luo p'an
inside his coat. Biao did the same with the sketchbook and box of pencils he had appropriated from me.

“Don't look at where you're putting your feet,” I warned them. “And don't stop for any reason. Run!”

I took off through the piles of bones as fast as I could, trying not to lose my balance whenever I stepped on one. I ran as if my life depended on it, because it did. I was so happy that I'd gotten in such good shape through tai chi and months of long treks in the mountains! It was a blessing.

We left the stairs of Epang and the bronze giants behind, reaching the river of mercury where we picked up the canes of bamboo we'd also left behind. All of us crossed at once, pushing with every ounce of strength in order to move more quickly through that liquid, which seemed to want to slow us down, not let us pass. Once on the other bank, we ran through the garden like greased lightning. Anxiety must heighten your senses, because we didn't get lost even once; certain animals, a few stones, and the pavilions on the little rivers led us directly to the great bronze door in the walls encircling Shanglin Park. We veered around the many statues in the path leading to the ramp up to the fifth level. I don't remember a single bridge or any of the cities except the cobbled streets of small, elegant Shang-hsien. Then we came to the enormous, bright esplanade with its thick, black-lacquered columns. The exit was somewhere at the other end, and I hoped we wouldn't get lost. We sped along without stopping, and when the ceiling got closer to our heads, we knew we were on the right track.

“There!” my niece shouted, turning a little to the left. A short while later, we were sprinting up toward the big black slab in the banquet hall. We didn't stop. We flew past the tables with their brocade cloths and gold objects, heading toward the iron rungs on the wall behind the enormous puddle thick with the bodies of dead insects. Fernanda hesitated.

“Keep going!” I shouted breathlessly. I was beginning to tire. How long had we been running nonstop? Perhaps twenty or twenty-five minutes.

Master Red took the lead, and I was thankful to him for that. As the first one to face the millions of repugnant bugs infesting that room up there, he helped us to get through it more quickly. The idea of once again having my hair, face, and clothes covered in those writhing black things was almost more than I could bear, but there was no time to waste. They didn't have long to live, and if the price I had to pay for the next fifty years of life (it's best to be optimistic with such calculations) was to pass through that little piece of hell once more, then I would do it.

Biao followed Master Red, then Fernanda, and I went last, receiving the least number of insects on my head. Master Red Jade had left the trapdoor to the chamber with the Bian Zhong open and repeatedly called out to us, guiding Biao, who in turn guided Fernanda and me as well. It didn't matter if my eyes were open or closed, because I already knew that it was cockroaches, beetles, and ants all over me, crawling on my face.

We lost more time than we should have because of those insects. Unfortunately, they'd been irresistibly drawn to the light coming in through the openings on either side of the movable wall and invaded the room with the Bian Zhong. By then they'd taken over the beautiful bells and the iron ladder that led up to the next level. Not only that: Since we hadn't closed the trapdoor the previous day (when the children had taken us by surprise), the most daring insects had decided to explore the mysterious space beyond that strange opening in the ceiling and flown up into the vast area with the ten thousand bridges.

There we were again, in that incredible place. I lifted my eyes and was overcome by fear. We wouldn't be able to run along those iron chains suspended in the air without falling.

“Please, Master Red Jade,” I begged. “Don't make a mistake. One tiny error means we'll get lost in the labyrinth.”

“I assure you, madame, that I will pay close attention and take the utmost care,” he replied as he walked onto the first footbridge.

“How much longer do we have?” my niece asked, following him.

“I estimate about an hour and forty-five minutes,” I replied.

“We're not going to make it,” she whined.

“Everyone, listen to me,” Master Red said. “I want you to concentrate and pay close attention to what I'm about to say. Forget that you're walking on an iron chain and imagine it's a wide white line painted on the floor of a large room. The chain is a secure, stable line, a line that presents no danger. All right?”

“What's he saying?” Biao turned to whisper so that only I could hear him.

“Look, Biao, I don't have the faintest idea what Master Red is trying to do,” I replied out loud, “but if he says this quivering chain is a white line painted on the floor, then you believe him, and that's that.”

“Yes,
tai-tai.

“You, too, Fernanda. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Auntie.”

“And hold on tight.”

“Repeat to yourself that you're walking on a very wide line painted on the floor of a big room,” Master Red insisted.

I, of course, tried with all my might several times during that endless walk along those horrid bridges, but I lost concentration every time an insect flew in front of me. My feet would become unsteady, and I would unwittingly shake the entire footbridge. When that happened, I was terrified that one of the children would fall and it would be my fault. Not a Taoist master in the world or even a circus magician could then convince me I was walking on a white line. It was a mistake to let myself get carried away by panic, because at a certain point I lost any concept of time. I couldn't calculate how long it was taking us to make that climb.

However, the practice acquired the day before and Master Red's mental game seemed to put wings on our feet. Once we reached the top, standing on solid ground, we each agreed that the climb had taken us only an hour. I didn't want to mention it as we ran through the tunnel toward the shaft up to the second level, but that meant we had just forty-five minutes—at most—to get out of the mausoleum.

Before starting up the ramps, I told everyone to stop.

“What's wrong?” Master Red asked in confusion.

“Take out your mirror, Fernanda, and give it to Biao.”

“What do
I
want it for?” the boy wondered.

“You see that whale-oil lamp, the one at the entrance to the tunnel?”

“Yes.”

“Stay here and use the mirror to direct the light so we can find our way up.”

Biao remained pensive. “Can I move up the ramp a little as long as I still light the way?”

“Of course,” I replied as the rest of us set off at a run.

“Auntie! You're not planning on leaving him behind, are you?” my niece reproached.

“Don't be ridiculous. Run.”

The icy air grew warmer as we sprinted up that wide shaft toward the trapdoor leading into the enormous methane-filled hall with the bronze floor. We were out of breath by the time we reached the last platform and stopped in front of the iron rungs below the door in the ceiling.

“Are you all right, Biao?” I shouted.

“Yes,
tai-tai.
” The point of light he had aimed at us shone brightly right next to Master Red.

“Master,” I said, “I want you to open the trapdoor, please, and go up.”

While he did as I asked, I took out my own mirror and asked Fernanda to climb up after Master Red.

“What are you going to do?” she inquired suspiciously.

“I'm going to light the way so you can run.”

I followed her and stood half inside and half outside the poisonous room.

“Biao!” I yelled. “Move your mirror to the right!”

The boy did as he was told.

“Now a bit toward the wall.”

As soon as he did, the gleam of light reflected off my mirror. I aimed it straight at the floor of that immense chamber, and it set off sparks of greenish light from a little trail of turquoises that some very intelligent person had left.

“Run, Master Red. Take Fernanda, and tell me once you've opened the door on the other side.”

“Very well, madame.”

I watched their feet race away following the path of light that was amplified by the polished bronze floor. It wouldn't take them more than a few minutes to reach the other side at that speed. It would have been so good to have been able to run like that the day before! We wouldn't have suffered, being poisoned by gas to the point of losing consciousness as we wandered blindly. A few moments later, I heard Master Red call out that Fernanda and he had reached the door. I asked him to get Fernanda up into the throne room in the funeral palace, and he replied that she was already on her way. I breathed a sigh of relief. Now I had to turn my attention to the boy.

“Listen to me, Biao,” I said, descending a few rungs so that my head was once again in the shaft. “Have you moved up a little already?”

“Yes,
tai-tai
.”

“Good. Now I want you to lean your back against the wall and get up here as fast as you can.”

“Okay,
tai-tai,
” he replied, suddenly leaving me in absolute darkness. My mirror had served its purpose so I put it back inside my jacket and prepared to wait for Biao, who might be a while. However, in no time I heard his labored breathing getting closer, and then something touched my foot.

“How did you get here so quickly?” I asked in disbelief.

“I couldn't run with my back up against the wall, but if I used just my elbow, I wasn't in danger of falling into the shaft.”

What a clever boy! And brave! I wouldn't have dared.

“Up we go, Biao.”

The two of us were soon at the top, and I called out to Master Red again. I asked him to keep talking so his voice would guide Biao and me toward him.

How strange it is to run in the dark! At first you're afraid of falling. Your steps are unsure, because when you lose your sight, you also lose your balance. But being aware of the danger, of how little time we had left before the whole place exploded thanks to that old madman Lao Jiang, forced us to adapt to the situation. Following Master Red Jade's voice as he bellowed some dreadful chant in Chinese, we crossed the enormous basilica like a shot and were soon at the door.

“You can stop singing now,” I begged. “We're here.”

“As you wish, madame.”

We crossed into the small cubicle with the ladder and climbed up, once again guided by a diffuse light shining in from above. Fernanda was waiting for us next to the trapdoor, behind the huge black stone slab. I was so happy to be back in the light! We passed next to the enormous stone altar where the First Emperor's ersatz coffin lay and started running toward the exit along the path where we'd had such fun setting off all of the arrows. I was worried that one of the crossbows might still be armed, but we had no trouble reaching the big stairs that led outside.

We descended the steps two at a time, three at a time, taking the chance that we might fall and crack our heads, but I suppose by this point we felt we didn't have much to lose, and we managed to stay in one piece on our suicidal descent down that great imperial staircase. I didn't want to ask how much time we had left so as not to worry the children, but I was sure it couldn't have been more than twenty or twenty-five minutes. We were still far enough from the exit that we wouldn't make it even if we had twice that much time. I quickened my pace, and, unconsciously, the others did the same. We crossed the esplanade, ran through the tunnel outside the first wall, leaped over the thick bronze bars that held the gigantic spike-studded door open, made it through the corridor in the middle, passed through the second tunnel outside the other wall as well, and finally left behind the immense door with its tiger-head knockers. We were out of the burial palace. Now all we had to do was run like mad to reach the shaft.

Unfortunately, a large group of Green Gang assassins holding torches in one hand and knives in the other didn't agree with that plan.

“Oh, no, no!” I moaned desperately. We were done. The four of us bunched together as if this would save our lives. I put an arm around my niece's shoulder and pulled her close.

The stupid assassins stared at us aggressively. The one who seemed to be in charge, a tall man with a shaved forehead and features that were more Mongolian than Chinese, said something threatening. Master Red Jade replied, and I watched the leader's expression change. Master Red continued speaking, repeating the words “
cha tan
” and “
bao cha
” over and over again. I don't know what they meant, but they seemed to have an effect because some of the thugs looked at one another uneasily. Master Red kept repeating
cha tan
and
bao cha,
getting more and more upset, as well as the full version of the antiquarian's name, Jiang Longyan, and his courtesy name, Da Teh. Several times I also heard the word “Kungchantang,” the name of the Chinese Communist Party. I gathered he was telling them that the place was going to explode in a few minutes, that the antiquarian was a Communist who'd been ordered to destroy the First Emperor's mausoleum, that we would all certainly die if we stayed there, and that there wasn't much time left. The boss seemed doubtful, but some of the others looked nervous. Master Red kept talking. Now it was if he were pleading, then explaining, then pleading again, and finally the leader brusquely waved his arm to indicate that we could go. Some of his men were visibly distressed and began shouting. We still hadn't moved. The leader yelled, screamed, and then suddenly said something emphatic and walked toward the door. The only thing that interested him was the mausoleum; thankfully, he didn't care about us at all.

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