The Pirate Empress (67 page)

It reminded him of the Tiger’s Eye that He Zhu had left in his safekeeping. He had failed to preserve it, had failed to help his uncle and Alai. The realization struck him now. They were dead. He widened his eyes against the tears, willed them not to spill.
I must show no fear; I’ve been alone before, been a prisoner before. This strange lady is no worse than Esen, the Mongol.

“The world is broken, Master Wu, just like your gemstone. My name is Dahlia, and I am the one who has broken it.”

Wu gulped, crushed the thick lump that swelled in his throat. The nine silver-tipped sails of his dream were not sails at all, but the tails of a fox faerie. “Where is Peng?” he asked, suddenly concerned for his cousin.

“Why do you care about her?”

“I like her.”

Dahlia laughed. “That’s nice, Wu. But to love your enemy is not much of a virtue. How Jasmine could think you were ever a threat, I do not know. But something goes on that I am not yet aware. What is your role in all of this my brave little warrior? Tell me, how does your existence matter?”

“It doesn’t,” he said.

“Peng thrives among my enemies, now,” Dahlia said. “She is my eyes, my ears, my tongue. With this gemstone I can see the world through her sight.” Wu’s own eyes grew very round in amazement as he listened. “Would you like to know how? You are just a young boy, not a man. You won’t understand a thing I tell you, and yet I feel compelled to tell you. This is all too easy. You are direct kin to Master Yun and yet you seem to have inherited none of his powers. But do you know who
has
inherited his powers?”

“Yes,” Wu interrupted. “Peng. Peng can see things that others can’t and she doesn’t need a gemstone like yours or mine.”

Dahlia glanced down at her gemstone. “Ah, so you are smarter than I thought. This ring is called the Bloodstone and it will guide the Sight of Wuji through my little Peng’s vision into its heart. There I will see what my enemy plots.”

“But that’s cheating,” Wu said.

“Yes, it is,” a voice answered, which wasn’t Dahlia’s. Another beautiful woman entered the room. For the first time since he woke up, Wu wondered where he was. But he didn’t have time to ponder the issue for long. The woman gazed at him, her whole being lovely and ugly at the same time. Things stirred in his young body that until this moment he was not aware existed. He clamped his lips together, blushing. Her nearness disturbed him in a way that was unfamiliar. No introduction was necessary. This lady he recognized. She was Jasmine, Peng’s mother. Wu’s fists curled into tight balls. He looked sharply at her. He should be afraid of her, but he wasn’t. He hated her. And there was nothing she could do to him, not even those embarrassing things she was doing to his body. He would not submit; she would have to kill him. And he wasn’t afraid to die.

Jasmine slipped up to him and dropped to one knee, her white skirt tumbling like sea foam around her ankles. “So, my little man, you are finally awake.”

Wu swatted the finger that moved to his cheek. “My mother says you are evil.”

Jasmine gripped him by the jaw and kissed him on the lips. He spat at her. She laughed. “How old are you little man?”

“Old enough to know that you are evil.”

“I heard you the first time,” she said before turning to Dahlia. “Well, Grandmother, what have you learned from my Peng?”

“Shall we look?” Dahlia asked.

She raised her hand and they both gazed into the Bloodstone.

%%%

Li realized she had very little time before Mo Kuan-fu would be back to claim his prize. He had double-crossed her. The traitorous sea hound!

It didn’t take long to figure out where she was and to whom that preposterous voice belonged. This was Fong’s warship and she was a captive of the White Tiger. Change of plans then. It was clear that no amount of talking would reach Fong’s sense of right or duty. She could pull an evil, seven-headed Jian out of a hat and it would not move him. His outrage at her desertion had blinded him to all but revenge. Well, if revenge was what he wanted, then she would make him come after it.

But first, how to get out of here? If she called upon Xiang Gong, would he rise to her aid? He had said he would only act if her life were in danger. Her life was not endangered at the moment. Furthermore, until she knew what price she had paid for his past help, she was wary. She was not drowning, not wounded. She was a prisoner, a captured animal in a cage. Did this man have no sense of morality? Or was his morality so perverted that this seemed like justice? Twice she had deserted him. He would not forgive. So she would have to get out of this fix by herself. Like her grandfather, she possessed the powers of the geomancer, but her gifts were not his gifts. So far she controlled the Ghostfire. That was all. At least, that was all she knew of. She had not tried to do much else; she had not been motivated to try. This was motivation if anything was. She had no idea how long she had been inside this box. Her back and legs cramped painfully. Soon she would soil herself. She had underestimated her ex-husband. Admiral Fong was a master of cruelty and punishment. He thought she behaved like an animal, and so he was treating her as such. Next to the whip, humiliation was his favourite tool.

Li curled into a ball, and poked her eyes and nose outside the slit. Her mouth was very dry. Did he intend to thirst her to death? Then she saw what she had hoped she would not see—a pair of booted feet with the stamp of the Imperial Navy upon them.

“Welcome home, Lotus Lily.” The voice came to her from above.

“Fong,” she said. “Let me out of here. I must talk to you.”

“We have nothing to talk about.”

“I am your wife, you owe me a hearing.”

“You forfeited that position when you abandoned your son.”

“I thought he’d be safer with you.”

“So you could return to the arms of your lover? I saw how you escaped together.”

“Forget about him. He doesn’t matter. Nothing matters but this. The world is in grave peril. All of the Middle Kingdom is threatened, including the seas. The fox faeries have reunited. Dahlia, the ancient one, stirs once more, and she plots to enslave us all.”

“I told you once before. I don’t believe in faery-tales.”

“These are no longer stories. The legends have come to life. Dahlia has released a host of mythical beasts from their time. They walk among us again. We can only defeat them if all men are united. Our petty jealousies and rivalries, our small lives, matter nothing in this context. Dahlia aims to destroy our armies and make us her slaves. Haven’t you seen evidence of this new order? Haven’t you seen Mo Kuan-fu’s consort
Bai Gu Jing
? She’s a White Bone Spirit, not of this world!”

“I’ve seen no such thing. Perhaps you should stop drinking the gunpowder wine of the pirates.”

“I have never drunken that concoction. Fong, please, let me out of here. If not for the sake of the Middle Kingdom, then for the sake of our son Lao.”

“I have my orders, and my orders are to rid the seas of you parasitic vermin.”

“When was the last time you received orders? When was the last time you heard from His Majesty? Don’t you know what’s happened? A Mongol is on the throne, and that fool of a Mongol thinks his alliance with the Fox Queen holds. Her plan is to take the throne from him, but we still have a chance. Master Yun, the Emperor’s warlock has retrieved His Highness, my father, from the hellfires of Feng Du. When the people see him, they will rally and we will fight. You must do the same. You must free me so that I can do my part! We must buy him time.”

Li’s neck was aching from craning it at an awkward angle in order to speak through the slit. She couldn’t see Fong’s face, but she could hear his heavy breathing, and the shifting of his feet.

“Time for what? For what purpose do we need to buy the warlock time?” Li’s lips clamped shut while Fong waited. “You do not answer.” A loud roar of laughter echoed outside her box. “Did you hear what you said? Do you expect me to believe any of it? The gods leave us to our own fate. Yan Luo would as soon speak to a goat as speak to a man.”

“Master Yun is not a man; he is a warlock.”

The booted feet began to pace back and forth in front of her peephole. The shadows flitted as he moved. “Just assume that I believe you. Exactly what role do you intend to play in this battle for supremacy?”

“All right, mock me, Fong. I deserve that. But you forget what I told you when we first married, the reason why I married you—the need to rescue Wu. He plays a part in this battle. Without him we cannot win.” Li shut her eyes, struggling with her mind. How much should she tell him? Master Yun had pledged her to silence. If the fox faeries got wind of the kingdom’s secret weapon, they could thwart it. “He is the Black Tortoise,” she said.

Fong’s footsteps ceased. Quiet prevailed. “How do you know?”

“I know because it was prophesied by the fox faerie, Jasmine, herself.”

“She specifically named the boy?”

Li hesitated. Well, did she or didn’t she? Li did not know.

Fong’s footsteps turned to leave. “I am sorry, Lotus Lily. That just won’t do. None of what you have said is credible to me.”

“Then ask the people in the coastal villages. Go back to the capital and find out for yourself! Don’t take my word for it! Only set me free to lead the water people against our enemy.”

“No,” Fong said, his footsteps pounding away.

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

The Dashing Prince

“Tell the Dashing Prince that we wish an audience with him.”

The sentinel at Anding Gate scowled at Master Yun. “How did you get inside the walls?”

“The Forbidden City is not forbidden to me. I am His Majesty’s warlock.”

“His Majesty has no warlock. And as I told you before, he’s engaged. He is in conference discussing military tactics with Generalissimo Zheng Min. He doesn’t want to be disturbed.”

“Go and ask him anyway. Tell him I have a surprise for him. Tell him I have Altan’s daughter.”

Master Yun exchanged a quick glance with Quan as the sentinel left.
Generalissimo Zheng Min
? Master Yun ignored the absurdity of the new title—
Master of all armies and naval forces
? Ha. He was not surprised. Nor was he concerned.

Master Yun and his small convoy stood at the gate, looking innocuous. Behind him were four figures cloaked in shadow. One was very tall, the other two of medium height and the last very small.

“The palace is heavily guarded. It will be difficult to fight our way inside,” Quan said.

“We won’t need to clash blades. I think he will see reason,” Master Yun replied.

The sentinel returned. With a slight tone of surprise in his voice, he said, “All right, the Dashing Prince will see you. But you have to leave your weapons at the door.”

All of their weaponry was deposited outside the gate in the safekeeping of the guard. Quan and Master Yun entered, followed by the four shadows. The guards did not notice that the two men cast six shades. Their boots clattered down the marble halls and they entered the throne room between the stone lion dog statues. Esen looked absurd on the throne of the Emperor, and appeared no more regal than the filthy barbarian he was. Beside him stood His Majesty’s former military governor, now the Dashing Prince’s generalissimo.

“Well, well, well,” Esen said, slouched on the royal yellow cushions, slurping at a porcelain cup of wine. The red liquor slopped over the edge of the cup and trickled down like blood. A drop pinched off the base of the cup and stained a corner of the yellow cushion. One of the shadows shuffled indignantly. Master Yun hissed under his breath and the shadow stilled.

“You laughed at me when I swore vengeance on Lotus Lily, Master Warlock. You diminished me in front of my warriors. Look who’s laughing now.”

“Mongol,” Master Yun said. “I have come to bargain with you.”

“I’m not afraid of you. I run things now. This palace is mine. All of these men obey me. They won’t listen to you. And all your magic can’t change that.” Esen threw a look at his generalissimo, His Majesty’s former Military Governor, Zheng Min.

Master Yun ignored Zheng Min’s twitchy glances. He knew the man favoured whoever was in power. The minute the Emperor was restored to the throne, Zheng Min would switch loyalties. Esen, however, was another matter. The fox faeries had no intention of allowing him to rule. He was a puppet and served their purpose for now. Their real intent was to destroy Master Yun and Quan, Li and Wu—all the pieces to the game that thwarted their goal. In fact, he was certain it was only a matter of time before the foxes discovered the Middle Kingdom’s secret weapon—and before that time, all of the pieces must be in place.

Master Yun raised his arms and the shadows over his companions vanished. The tall, white-furred Yeren appeared first. Beside him stood the Emperor in red and blue. Below him was little Peng. But the thing that had Esen gagging on his own spittle was the sight of the blue dragon that filled the entire room. “Fucanlong,” Master Yun said. “Perhaps you might be so good as to assume a more reasonable shape for this space.”

The dragon let loose a hot chuckle and transformed into a handsome Imperial soldier, complete with topknot and military chest plate. The only thing different between him and any other Imperial soldier was the colour of his skin. It was blue.

“I did not come unarmed,” Master Yun said. “I want to return the true emperor to his throne.”

“But
I am
the emperor,” Esen wailed. “Jasmine promised me.”

Master Yun tossed a glance in the direction of the blue soldier. “He breathes fire, you know. Do you want him to turn you into barbecued duck?”

The Mongol usurper was ignorant of the fact that Fucanlong could not breathe fire. “No,” he gulped.

“Do you see how powerful we are, Mongol?” Master Yun asked. “These are only a sample of the folk who follow the Son of Heaven. Don’t you think, perhaps, you’ve chosen the wrong side?”

“What will you do to me?” Esen snivelled.

“Fight for us. Fight for the freedom of all mortal men,” Quan said.

The Mongol stared at the dragon soldier and the Yeren. “What about them? How can you trust them? Their kind fight for the fox faeries.”

“They do not,” Master Yun interrupted. “The Yeren are our ancestors and the dragon folk have served emperors from the beginning of time.”

“Will you make me a general? Will you give me an army?”

Master Yun glanced at Quan and Quan conceded.

Esen rose from the throne and passed the cup of wine to the Emperor, who to his credit had remained completely silent. But now his indignation reached the spilling point, and he snatched the cup and threw its blood-red contents into the Mongol’s face.

%%%

If she escaped from this box and confronted Fong now, she would kill him. She would not have the discipline to crush her rage. She couldn’t risk it. He was needed alive to take his place on the Crosshairs of the Four Winds.

Li shut her eyes and let the image of the Crosshairs fill her mind: North, South, East and West. Water, fire, wood and metal: these elements of the earth were represented by the Black Tortoise, the Vermilion Bird, the Azure Dragon and the White Tiger. Why was it then, that none of these people knew how important they were to the balance of the universe? They were scattered across the Middle Kingdom. Correction—Some, like the White Tiger, weren’t even in its domain. And Wu. The gods knew where he was—in the Mongolian desert with Peng? The Emperor himself had spent the last little while not even on this earth, but in the Courts of Hell. Li drew on her memories of Chao and the Taijitu, the Emblem of Balance. It seemed to her she was once given a choice. What had happened to that power of choice? What did Master Yun mean when he said that the Emblem was broken? What choice did she have now?
The choice not to stay boxed like a crate of tealeaves!

Li angled her head until she could peer through the slit and across the deck to a patch of sky on the horizon. Thunderheads gathered in a low frothing blackness, but too far away to bring the storm to aid her. She did not need the storm. She only needed a single bolt of lightning. She called on her will and summoned a jagged silver flash. The powers of earth and sky heard her, and responded with an ear-splitting clap that shook the warship from stem to stern. Clouds rolled across the sky and disappeared, blocked out by the wooden ceiling of her prison. A fork of light dived straight at her and she braced herself for the impact. The wood sizzled, burst into flame and ate the fuel surrounding her body. Heat and smoke bit at her skin and lungs, and she waited until the heat was intolerable, threatening to bake her like a suckling pig.  She thrust with her feet, heard the wood strain and crack, break through where the fire had weakened it, and shoved herself feet first into a blazing inferno. She shook herself like a wet dog, trying to rid herself of the flames as she rolled onto her knees, but the fire had caught her hair and her clothes, and she raced like a burning torch to the rail and catapulted, headfirst, into the sea.

Her face shot up, broke water, and she gasped for air. If she was burned, she never felt it because of the cold of the seawater. She couldn’t swim to shore, not knowing where it was, and she dared not call upon Xiang Gong once more.

She looked up into the peculiar eyes of the phoenix. The bird waited. Silent. There was no point in going to Fong; a different tactic was in order. She stroked toward the hull of the warship, grabbed the rope ladder that hung down its side and climbed back to the deck. It had started to rain and the box that had been her prison smouldered like a doused campfire. No one was on deck as night had fallen. Orange lanterns came on one by one, but no men stayed to hazard the storm. Lightning flashed.

If memory served correctly, Fong’s quarters were nearby. She made her way to the porthole where she knew Lao slept. A single lamp glowed inside. She ventured a peek and saw him roll over in his bed and sigh. She sidled to the next porthole, rain dripping off her brow. Fong and Lin were partaking of the evening meal. A whole fish sat in a plate of ginger and bubbling oil. Bowls of noodles, rice and dumplings steamed. Her stomach grumbled and saliva filled her mouth, the clicks of their chopsticks obscured by the roar of the storm. They ate, oblivious to her peeping, until Lin stopped and smiled, and watched the Admiral finish his meal. Li could not risk leaving her stepsister a message. What she must do, she must accomplish tonight.

She returned to the first porthole and climbed inside, landing on her former cot. She drew the blanket from the mattress and towelled her eyes dry. No point in looking for dry clothes. Where she was going, it would be wet. She went to Lao’s bed and knelt beside him. She gently lifted him in her arms, half-expecting him to awaken. He did—with a wailing shriek.

“Quiet, Lao,” she ordered in a harsh whisper. “It’s me, your mother. We’re going on an adventure!” The boy continued to bawl and Li called upon the Ghostfire to mask her escape. Fong and Lin came rushing into Lao’s quarters only to find it enshrouded by a bloom of mystical lights. Could she trust Lin to keep her mouth shut? Li caught her stepsister’s stunned expression as she and Lao disappeared through the porthole.

Standing in front of
Fenghuang
with the squalling Lao, squirming in her arms, she gripped him tight, warned him to silence, but to no avail. She had no key to open the door to the phoenix’s cage—the one failure in her plan. How were they to escape without the bird to fly them to freedom? The hue and cry was up, and men spilled onto the slick decks waving swords and muskets. Li was ready to toss herself and Lao over the rail and take their chances with Xiang Gong and the open sea, when the iron door of the cage swung open and the bird stepped out.

The phoenix obviously had powers beyond her own. Li slung Lao onto its back, threw a leg over, and ordered it to fly. Strangely, the phoenix obeyed her. They plunged into the night, slicing broken cloud, the last drops of rain squeezing out as though from a giant’s sponge. She smirked to think what they must look like to those below, a pair of riders, one taller, one shorter, perched on a behemoth of a bird, their shadow cast against the radiance of the moon.

Below, the warship creamed the ocean in pursuit, ten dozen lighted lanterns illuminating the boat like a floating city. Nothing else was visible in the inky sea—no sign of the Pirate King. Alas, she was wrong. Something else watched from the deep. Two pairs of red lights cut through the water aft of the warship. No lanterns these, they darted to and fro like eyes. Li shuddered, drew her vision skyward. By morning they would sight land. She held the shivering Lao against her breast. His skin felt cold, his wailing had ebbed to muffled sobs, and only now did she realize how frightened he was. To him she was a stranger who had abducted him from everything that was warm and comforting, exactly as Wu had been taken and how he must have felt when he was kidnapped. She hugged the boy and kissed him atop his head. “It’s all right my brave sailor. Your father is following us, as is your Auntie Lin. I am taking you to meet your grandfather and your great grandfather, and your big brother Wu.”

“I have a brother?” he asked sniffing, his voice barely audible in the wind.

“You do. And I know he longs to meet you.”

“Where are we going?”

“To the Forbidden City.”

He gasped. “The palace? I have heard stories of the wonders of the palace. Is it true that it is made of gold and that you were once a princess who lived there?”

Li laughed. “Who told you that?”

“My Auntie Lin.”

“Well, you will get to find out if the tales are true. Sleep now. Rest your head against my chest and close your eyes. When the sun rises, we will be there.”

%%%

Bright sunlight stabbed her eyes and she awoke with a start. Lao snuggled against her and she was careful not to disturb him. She ventured a glance below and saw that the White Tiger had kept up the pace, and behind the warship Mo Kuan-fu’s
Lady White Snake
had joined the chase.

Good. One wanted revenge and the return of his son; the other wanted his prize for the capture of a fugitive. They would both get their rewards, but they must follow her to the Forbidden City. After that she must obtain their fealty, their unconditional loyalty, but to convince them of the Empire’s peril, she must show them its fate. How to do this?

Their flying mount carried them over the mangrove swamps of the lower kingdom and up toward Beijing where the curved roofs of the palace shone pink in the dawn light. Movement caught her eye in the white plain, beyond the boundaries of the city—marching soldiers, great armies, thousands upon thousands practised maneuvers on the outskirts of the capital. Sickened by the sight, she was determined that Fong and Mo Kuan-fu see this. Urging the bird to wheel about in a sharp dive, they turned back toward the sea. Neither pirate nor admiral would listen to reason so they must witness with their own eyes what she had seen. Li nudged the bird to descend toward the warship. Fong was on the bridge shaking his fists. They dropped down and Li willed her thoughts to the phoenix; it understood and lunged with its crane’s claw at the admiral. He shrieked as sharp talons seized his uniform. Then it darted into the wake of the warship to meet the pursuing pirate junk. Again Li willed the phoenix to perform its latest trick, and the other claw snatched the pirate captain.