Nine Gates (59 page)

So she shouldered her bag and turned to Dad.

“Need a hand with any of that?” she asked.

“Nope, the old man’s still up to carrying a few suitcases,” Gaheris said. “Come on. We don’t want to fall behind.”

Brenda nodded. Flying Claw had directed his little army in ahead of the rest, and now the others were filing in, each bearing some pack or bundle.

Brenda hadn’t quite decided how she felt about the new recruits. On the one hand, she was glad that their rather dubious army was so enlarged. On the other, despite the binding agreements each had signed, Brenda did worry that one of them would try something. Twentyseven-Ten in particular bothered her. She didn’t need to have two brothers to recognize the jostling for authority going on between him and Flying Claw.

Oh, Flying Claw’s technically in charge
, Brenda thought, holding the door open for Dad,
but Twentyseven-Ten would like that to be only “technically” and Flying Claw is determined it be for real. Idiots!

When they were all inside, Gaheris vanished into the big closet. When he emerged, he was clad in shining black robes. Brenda noticed that the embroidered charms leaned rather heavily in the direction of prosperity, with fewer for luck. She guessed that was in keeping with the Rat’s focus, but somehow it made her uneasy—like the Rat was supposed to be too smart to need luck or something.

When I have my robes made
, Brenda thought, feeling very strange at the thought, for when she donned those robes Gaheris would be dead,
I’ll not forget luck. It’s been with me so far, and I’d not want to forget to show I’m grateful.

In one hand, Gaheris held a flat case. Brenda’s first thought was that he had brought a small notebook computer. Then she realized the case was embroidered with various signs of protection.

She wanted to ask Dad what was in there, but Albert and
Righteous Drum were already conversing with the Men Shen. The pine door was swinging open, showing that curiously flattened, distorted version of the West spread before them.

“We’re moving out,” Nissa said. Her turquoise-blue eyes were rimmed with red. She’d managed to hold back her tears when she’d left Lani in Joanne’s care, but Brenda knew how hard that had been. When she’d awakened during the night, and stumbled into the bathroom, a faint light had peeked under the door connecting Nissa’s room. Through the old-fashioned keyhole, Brenda had seen Nissa asleep, sprawled on the bed with her clothes still on, Lani clasped in her arms.

The little girl had been awake. Brenda had shied back as if the child might see her, for those open eyes had been preternaturally thoughtful, as if Lani was aware of everything her mother had not told her, and was bravely maintaining a conspiracy of ignorance.

Certainly that morning Lani had gone off with Joanne easily enough, not even whining that she wanted to wait and say good morning to Foster.

Brenda shouldered her daypack. It was light enough, packed with a first-aid kit, high-calorie ration bars, binoculars, and similar survival gear. Most importantly, inside one of the zippered compartments were extra amulet bracelets to augment those currently hung around her wrists.

She hadn’t made all of these—not even most of them. The Orphans who had remained behind during the trip to the Yellow Springs had not been idle. The more experienced members had contributed some very powerful spells, and samples of these hung on both of Brenda’s wrists, ready for an emergency.

I hope I can get to them if I need them
, Brenda thought, mentally practicing the slightly more awkward left-hand throw.
I hope I don’t need them at all.

Without really noticing, Brenda—Nissa still close at hand—had come up to the pine door. Albert, very serious and looking
horribly inscrutable and Chinese in his formal robes, was standing to one side. He surveyed those remaining.

“Gaheris, come through next, would you? Shen and Righteous Drum have gone ahead, but I think we’re going to need your particular talents in tracking Pai Hu’s trail.”

Gaheris hefted the mysterious case. “This. Yeah. Shen and I talked about that a bit over the phone. I’m set.”

He turned and winked at Brenda. “See you on the other side, Breni.”

Nissa looked at her. “What was he talking about?”

“No idea,” Brenda admitted. “But I think we’re going to find out.”

She looked around. Of their company of seventeen, only five remained: Albert, Nissa, Waking Lizard, Deborah, and herself.

“Who’s next?” she said, trying to sound bright.

“Waking Lizard, then Deborah, Nissa, you, and I’ll come last and close the door,” Albert said. “Gaheris’s insisting on changing into his robes means we’re going to be a little delayed, but hopefully that won’t be vital.”

He doesn’t like Dad much more than Dad does him
, Brenda thought.
But I’m not sure I blame him given how Dad has been the one perpetually not available. Maybe Dad doesn’t realize how important—and dangerous—this is. If so, I’d better keep an eye on him.

Brenda gave Nissa a reassuring pat on the shoulder, accepting one from Waking Lizard as he left. Then it was her turn, and thinking back to the first time, Brenda realized she would have given a lot to be walking through the gaping tiger’s jaws because then that would mean Pai Hu was all right.

But the passage was as simple as she could wish. The grass her foot touched, although green and apparently lush, was as dry as drought beneath the sole of her sneaker.

Flying Claw had taken his four soldiers over to one side and was running them through elaborate drills. Waking Lizard
had joined them and was apparently standing in for the enemy.

Shen, Righteous Drum, and Gaheris were seated on the ground over on the side of the grove, right about where Brenda remembered Pai Hu being when they’d had that first talk with him. Dad was pulling whatever it was out of his case, and Brenda had a strong desire to go over and snoop. She was a little hurt, though, that Dad hadn’t confided in her, and so she went over to Pearl instead.

Pearl was wearing her Tiger robes, and Brenda noted that these, unlike the shenyi style worn by most of the others, were more a long tunic over pants. The hem of the tunic was well clear of the ground. A practical arrangement, suitable for a warrior, if not as impressive as Flying Claw’s armor.

“Any sign of the White Tiger of the West?” Brenda asked.

“Flying Claw—who was the first through—received a faint greeting. I received one even fainter. Since then, nothing.” Pearl nodded in the direction of the clustered Rat and Dragons. “Since that’s where we ‘saw’ Pai Hu, that’s where they’re starting their search.”

“I thought you and Flying Claw would be more involved,” Brenda said.

“We are. We will be,” Pearl said somewhat equivocally. “But for now I’m leaving this to the experts.”

Brenda had her opening.

“What’s Dad’s part of this?”

Pearl smiled at her, and Brenda knew the older woman wasn’t fooled by Brenda’s apparent nonchalance.

“Each of the original Exiles,” she said, “created a specialized magical item—a means of focusing some aspect of their Branch’s specific powers. Many were weapons, like my sword or Des’s Talons, but the Rat was rather more creative. He wanted something that would help him assess probability and so he created an abacus.”

“An abacus,” Brenda said. “You mean one of those things
that looks like a kid’s toy? Wires in a frame, each strung with beads?”

“Precisely,” Pearl said. “Many historians speak of the abacus as the first practical computer. The Rat’s abacus makes possible—among other things—a more rapid calculation of auguries.”

“Auguries, like those you do with the mah-jong tiles.”

“Auguries were considered a very serious science in ancient China,” Pearl corrected. “In fact, writings on augury were one of the sciences preserved in the original burning of the books—but of course they made their way into the Lands nonetheless.”

Brenda glanced over. Her father had settled down into a very comfortable-looking crouch, and now bent over—she moved slightly to get a clearer angle—what did indeed look like an abacus that had been placed on a rock.

As Brenda watched, Righteous Drum did something with a compass and recited the reading. Gaheris Morris’s fingers flew, the beads moving back and forth on their wires so vigorously that Brenda could hear the rattle over where she stood.

“There seem to be lots of beads,” Brenda said after a moment. “And am I right that some of the wires run vertically as well as horizontally?”

“You are,” Pearl said. “Exile Rat designed a very elaborate machine—but one that could also function as a perfectly normal abacus. The extra beads and wires are stored in a drawer at the bottom, where they look like nothing so much as replacement parts.”

“I don’t ever remember seeing it,” Brenda said, “not around the house, I mean.”

“You father kept it in a safe,” Pearl said. “It is, after all, not something small children should be permitted to play with and possibly break. It can only be repaired with great effort.”

Brenda caught the whisper of a story there, but she didn’t get a chance to ask. Gaheris had surged to his feet, triumph in every line of his body.

“Flying Claw! Auntie Pearl! We think we’ve found our trail. Will you come and sniff it out?”

The two Tigers immediately hurried over. Brenda trailed after, and listened to the nearly incomprehensible discussion of ch’i flows, personal auras, and the difficulty of distinguishing Pai Hu from his own “background noise.” One thing was clear, however. Pearl and Flying Claw both agreed they now could trace Pai Hu.

“Then we’re going?” Nissa said, a trace nervously. “Where?”

“Beneath and toward the center,” Flying Claw replied. “Along a way that appears to lead into the Void.”

To Pearl, Pai Hu’s trail appeared as a long streak, fuzzy, opaque white adorned with irregular lines in less blurred black. She concentrated, seeking to resolve the blurring into something more solid. She felt her nostrils flare, and her ears seeking to cup and tilt as they would when she was a tiger, but she did not transform, for as useful as the tiger’s augmented senses could be, she needed hands to use her sword and shape her spells.

After a long moment of such sensing, she realized that the path was not blurred through any lack of concentration on her part, but because the White Tiger himself was stretched out over space and time.

“He’s all there,” she said aloud, “but elongated by something that is pulling him over a vast area. Eventually, the strain will be too much, and he will lose his hold here. By then it may be too late for us to help.”

“Pulled,” Albert repeated thoughtfully. “Then we must stop whatever or whoever is doing the pulling. Can we get to the other end?”

Pearl glanced at Flying Claw. In his nod she saw agreement with her own conclusions.

“Yes,” she said, speaking for them both. “We can.”

“I suggest,” Flying Claw added, “that everyone take precautions in advance, some form of protective spell at least.”

“Also,” Pearl said, “consider invoking the wind of your sign. I sense that maneuvering where we are going may not be easy. Having a wind at your back may help.”

Shen cut in. “Pick a protection that does not rely too heavily on winds, then, because if our enemies take steps to banish winds, you could find yourself both motionless and unprotected.”

Righteous Drum had been thoughtfully studying the place where, to Pearl, the trail clearly began.

“I believe,” he said, “a spell to augment sight would be useful. In this place, the eyes of the soul are what will guide us, not those of the body.”

Preparations were concluded quickly, the apprentices taking care of themselves, and the more senior members supplying protections for the soldiers who had no magical skills of their own. Twentyseven-Ten insisted on working his own spells, and other than inspecting to make certain they were suitable, no one interfered.

Nor was there much argument regarding the order of their descent. Flying Claw and his soldiers were to go first, followed by the masters, then by the apprentices.

“We can’t plan further,” Pearl said, when Riprap protested his placement, “because we don’t know what we’re up against. Consider yourself rear guard if that makes you more comfortable.”

Riprap nodded crisply, and shifted to the very end of the loose line, herding Brenda and Nissa in front of him.

And so the descent began. As soon as Flying Claw and his front line stepped onto the trail, it became evident that just as it did not seem to have precise length, it did not have precise breadth. Still, the footing seemed best in a central band of about ten feet in width.

Flying Claw arranged his men in a sort of wedge: himself in the center, flanked by Twentyseven-Ten and Thorn. Chain and Shackles took their positions slightly out from Twentyseven-Ten and Thorn. This left a gap in the center of the second line. Waking Lizard stepped forward to fill it.

In answer to Pearl’s glare—she’d been moving into the space herself—he said, “We need to spread out our Tigers. I am not as sensitive to arcane forces as either of the Dragons—and I understand the tactics Flying Claw will use.”