Thirteen Orphans (37 page)
A Chinese man, probably in his fifties, stood on the doorstep. He was square-bodied and round-faced, dressed in an old-fashioned Chinese scholar’s robe, complete to a cap with wing flaps on the sides. He was clean-shaven, his black hair cut in a modern style. His posture managed to be both erect and formal, and yet to suggest that he spent a great amount of time stoop-shouldered, peering at closely written texts. Brenda did not need to look at the ornate dragons embroidered on his robes to know that this was the third of their enemies: the Dragon.
“I am Righteous Drum, and I have come for my daughter,” the Dragon said with a bow. “I believe she is here.”
“She is,” Brenda said, not bothering to bow, as she figured the motion would look really silly with her wearing a sleep shirt and shorts—and an acid-burned sleep shirt at that. Well, he probably couldn’t see more of her than her face peering around the edge of the door.
“Please permit my daughter to come out to me,” the Dragon said. “Otherwise, given that breaking the very interesting and quite intricate wards about this house would be an unwarranted expenditure of energy, and doubtless attract unwanted attention, I would need to find ways to convince you that my daughter does not belong in your custody.”
Brenda listened to the flow of words with mild astonishment. The Dragon’s tone was courtly and so polite she felt embarrassed about keeping him outside.
“Uh, just a moment.” Brenda closed the door as Pearl had instructed and called up the stairs. “It’s the Dragon, at least, I think it has to be, even though he introduced himself as Righteous Drum, since he’s asking for us to return his daughter.”
“That is all he wants?”
“That’s all he has said so far,” Brenda said.
“Ask him what assurances I have that he won’t attempt to breach my defenses if I open the door to let his daughter out.”
Brenda opened the door the amount the chain permitted and repeated Pearl’s words.
“My daughter is a pride and joy to me,” the Dragon said, “but if an old man’s desire to see his child free is not sufficient, then tell your Tiger that I have inspected the wards and am not certain I would care to attempt to break them without more preparation.”
Brenda closed the door again. Feeling a swell of pride for the work Nissa had done with her help, she repeated what the Dragon had said word for word.
“Interesting. Tell Righteous Drum I have a mind to trade his daughter for something else … . He has stolen the memories from several of my friends and allies. Ask him how many of those he is willing to return to have the Snake returned safely.”
Brenda heard a cry of indignation from above, and swallowed a smile as she opened the door and relayed Pearl’s message.
The Dragon did not look surprised.
“None,” he said, and the very stiffness of his reply showed his agitation. “There can be other Snakes, but what I have reclaimed from those this Tiger calls her friends and allies is irreplaceable. Tell the Tiger that if she does not release my daughter, I will go forth and do physical damage to those from whom thus far I have held my hand. Moreover, not a one of your friends or kin will be safe from my rage. If my daughter is returned to me, then I will withhold my hand from all of them.”
Brenda felt certain the Dragon meant exactly what he was saying, but tried to keep her voice level as she relayed the words. Her thoughts were far from calm, though, imagining Mom or the boys killed by some weird assassin.
“Interesting,” Pearl said in almost conversational tones. “Ask the Dragon if he would swear to withhold his hand from my friends and kin on my blade, which is called Treaty, and grows impossibly ferocious if oaths are broken. Ask him, too, if he would make the Snake swear to this as well, and if he would stand bond in life and afterlife for any of his allies who might be tempted to violate the spirit as well as the word of his vow.”
Brenda repeated this, and watched Righteous Drum’s face anxiously as he listened.
“I will so swear,” he said, “but only when my daughter is at my side, free of constraints against her leaving.”
“Tell him,” Pearl said, “we’ll be right down, just as soon as I put on some slippers.”
Pearl didn’t really need her slippers, but rather liked that parting line, so, herding the Snake in front of her with the dual prods of Treaty’s edge and a quickly etched ideogram of coercion, she made her way first to her bedroom, then down the stairs into the front foyer.
Brenda stood there, holding the door open to the width of the chain, alternating fascinated glances out at the waiting Dragon with checking on Pearl’s decorous progress. Her expression stiffened whenever she glanced toward the Snake.
Pearl didn’t need to ask why. Certainly the Snake had attacked Brenda, but Brenda had held her own quite well, especially for a complete novice. No, what rankled was the claim that Foster was the Snake’s “beloved”—a claim that forced Brenda, once again, to confront how very little about that young man she really knew.
But it was quite likely that Foster would soon no longer be a problem for them. Certainly, the Dragon would want the Tiger returned along with his daughter.
However, when they entered into their negotiations, Foster was not mentioned. The Dragon wanted his daughter returned, and made quite clear that if Pearl did not return her, then those members of the Twelve who were not already under Pearl’s protection would suffer, as would friends and family of the protected four. Pearl noted that when negotiating for the young woman’s life and freedom, he referred to her not by her title, but simply as “my daughter.” She knew from this that she negotiated not with the Dragon, as such, but with a father.
Pearl didn’t know whether she felt sad or envious that here was a father who could value a mere girl child.
Pearl knew she would need to return the Snake to her father, but she wanted assurance that once the Dragon had his daughter returned to him, he would not break his word and start taking hostages or otherwise attacking the friends, families, or allies of the remaining Twelve.
After all, the very fact that Pearl was willing to return the Snake to assure those people’s safety proved their value.
Refining the wording of their complex agreement was torturous, but Pearl noted with approval that Brenda did not fidget. The young woman took notes of the discussion as Pearl requested, but never forgot to keep a watchful eye on the Snake.
Brenda’s notes were written in English, but whether through magic or learning, both Dragon and Snake could read that language. A written text permitted no deviations, no “Oh, did I say that?” afterthoughts, and Pearl thought the Dragon approved of her care rather than otherwise—but then while dragons were known for their pedantry, tigers were not. However, Pearl was a Tiger who had been a Hollywood movie star, and she fully understood the importance of reading the fine print.
The person who grew increasingly restless as the negotiations went on was the Snake. Her father consulted her as to various points, but as captive her ability to influence the terms was limited. Still, Pearl was lenient and let the Dragon address his daughter through the chain-guarded opening of the door. After all, the Snake was going to need to swear to this agreement before Pearl let her go, and better the Snake did so with no reservations.
At last a text was arrived at that Pearl felt protected their friends and allies as thoroughly as she could manage. The Dragon reviewed it, politely asking Brenda to clarify a word or two, for the young woman’s handwriting showed that she was more accustomed to composing on a computer than by hand. Then he glanced at his daughter.
“Do the provisions of this document suit you, Honey Dream?” Righteous Drum’s tone made quite clear that he thought they should.
“But, Father,” the Snake exclaimed. For once there was no trace of a hiss in her voice. “You have negotiated no provision for the Tiger’s freedom!”
“There can be other Tigers,” the Dragon said sternly. “Indeed, there will be those who will think there could have been other Snakes as well, especially after learning of your behavior this night. However, you are my daughter, and I permit myself a father’s indulgence.”
Pearl had a sudden insight as to the Dragon’s willingness to make terms.
I bet he didn’t want to involve any “civilians” from the start. His tactics show great care to avoid injury to anything but his victims’ memories. I wonder if the other members of his Twelve made this a constraint before he was permitted to come here and attempt whatever it is he is attempting.
I bet he didn’t want to involve any “civilians” from the start. His tactics show great care to avoid injury to anything but his victims’ memories. I wonder if the other members of his Twelve made this a constraint before he was permitted to come here and attempt whatever it is he is attempting.
The Snake was furious at her father’s cavalier attitude toward Foster—and quite possibly toward herself as a member of the Twelve. “But, Father, our Tiger. Surely we owe him …”
The Dragon cut her protests off without apology. “The Tiger failed. He let a woman many times his age turn his own magic against him. He is not a Tiger we need to preserve. There were other candidates for the post, and if the auguries had been different …”
He stopped, perhaps recalling that what he was saying should not be heard by those who, despite the very civilized manner in which they had been negotiating, were his enemies.
Pearl decided to save face for him. The Japanese were not the only ones who valued that insubstantial quality.
“I will send out tea to you,” she said, “while I brush copies of our agreement. Will you bide?”
“As long as my daughter is safe, I will treat our agreement as if already sworn to.”
Pearl let the door remain open, but left the chain in place. She looked at the Snake.
“If you want to be out of here quickly, then do not distract me. I will let you have a chair, and you can converse with your father through the opening. Violate my hospitality and find out whether a Snake is strong enough to resist the wrath of a Tiger in her den.”
The Snake looked distinctly unhappy, but when Brenda brought a straight-backed chair from the front parlor, she slid into it with sulky grace. Perhaps she hoped that she could convince her father that it was not too late to make an amendment to the treaty.
Brenda glanced over at Pearl. “Want me to make tea? Des has been teaching me how to make it right, and I know where the good oolong is. That seems rather appropriate.”
Pearl nodded. Oolong was black dragon tea, and indeed, very appropriate.
“Thank you,” she said. “That would be extremely helpful. While the water boils, take a moment to treat those acid burns. There’s a first-aid kit in the kitchen.”
Brenda nodded, winced as she touched a sore spot with a fingertip.
“I think I left some clean shirts in the laundry room. I’ll change, too.”
“Good.”
Pearl went to her office, leaving the door open so she could see into the foyer. Pulling out inkstone, brushes, and appropriate paper, she quickly translated the treaty from English to Chinese, but for good measure included the English text beneath, just in case there should be any questions as to her choice of terms in Chinese.
As she was working, Pearl smelled a whiff of fragrant tea and looked up to see that Brenda had left Pearl her own small pot of oolong, along with a few almond wafers. Pearl smiled slightly, but her hand did not slow until she had finished the character she was writing. Blotting ink at this point would be a waste of good paper and time, especially since she wanted the two copies to be as close to identical as possible.
Pearl noticed with approval that Brenda had not asked why Pearl was going to all this trouble when she had both a computer that could produce texts in Chinese fonts, and a copier. By now, Des had drummed into his three students that for the Chinese the written word held its own magic, especially when lovingly created by hand.
Thus Pearl brushed elaborate patterns in ink, while Brenda played the contradictory roles of hostess and guard. When Pearl was done, she made photocopies of the treaty, and handed one of these, rather than an original, over the chain. The Dragon reviewed it.
“I see no reason for changes. This is as we discussed. Will you sign?”
Pearl nodded and handed ink and brush through the door.
“I have made two identical originals. I suggest that the Snake sign both first, since she is sitting here, then I will sign one copy while you sign the other. Then we will trade.”
“I agree,” the Dragon said, and there was that in his voice that dared his daughter to disagree.
The Snake didn’t, and was graceful with brush and ink in signing both copies. The other signatures were exchanged without prevarication or evasion, and as she brushed the final “Ming” on the page, Pearl felt a little click in her mind that meant she was bound by the agreement, and a fainter echo that told her when the Dragon was bound as well.
“Hold these, Brenda,” she said, “and I will release the Snake to her father.”
Pearl had thought about referring to the young woman by her personal name, but decided this would be gratuitously rude. Although she could not imagine such a situation, there might be a time when she would need the Snake’s goodwill.
Brenda spoke as she moved to obey. “Pearl, what about Dad? What about the others? Will Dad come back to the present? Will the others wake up?”
Pearl looked at the Snake who was rising to her feet, smoothing out her elegantly embroidered gown, clearly seeking to regain some portion of her dignity.
“Can you answer Brenda’s question?” she said. “The spells were yours.”
Pearl managed to inflect this last to imply that she thought the spells had been cast by the Snake, but perhaps she had relied on someone else to create them. The Snake responded much as Pearl had expected.
“I created them,” she said. “They will lose their hold shortly before dawn, and all will be as before. Gaheris Morris will be disoriented. He will have no memory of how he arrived here. I planned to return him to his hotel before my spell broke.”
Brenda looked confused, and Pearl thought she knew why. The Snake’s words implied that Gaheris was staying in the area. If he was, why hadn’t he told his daughter?
“Where is Gaheris’s hotel?” Pearl asked. “Perhaps we can return him and so avoid confusion.”
The Snake told them, the routine designations and directions sounding very strange coming from someone as exotic as she.
“Thank you,” Pearl said politely. “And, good night.”
The last was a dismissal, and the Dragon took it as such. Gripping his daughter firmly above her elbow, he half marched, half escorted her down the stairs and off into the night. Pearl wondered if they had a car, but didn’t leave the door open to listen. She had other things to do.
As Pearl turned from locking the door, Brenda was waiting, every line in her body showing her readiness to take orders, a certain tightness around her lips showing that she was bursting with questions, but knew this wasn’t the time to ask them.
“Your father is safer than we are,” Pearl said without pausing for preamble or praise. “The treaty we just made protects him as it does not protect us. I will go up and look to him. Go into my office and check the Rolodex for the number of Star Reliables. They’re a chauffeuring service I use when my car is unavailable. Tell them I have someone I wish driven to his hotel and escorted to his room. Imply that he is a bit inebriated, and they will understand that they are not to ask questions.”
“And Dad,” Brenda said, “are you sure he’s really going to be all right?”
“The Snake would not have dared lie, not after signing that treaty.”
Pearl spoke with more certainty than she felt. Technically, the Snake had not been bound by the treaty when she first ensorcelled Gaheris, but Pearl had a feeling in her gut that the Snake would not have lied to her. Or rather, that she would not have dared evade, not with her father already unhappy with her.
We always make the mistake of thinking of “the enemy” as some sort of monolith, but over and over again we see how many different goals and opinions may govern their actions.
While Brenda made the call, Pearl went upstairs and checked on Gaheris. He had moved to a seat by the stairway to the third floor. His body language was very similar to someone who was so drunk that he could no longer think clearly. He met Pearl’s gaze with his own dull eyes, but said nothing, not even when she checked through his pockets and wallet, finally locating the key to his hotel room. The folder that held the key also had the room number lightly penciled on it, so that was fine.
Pearl guided Gaheris downstairs, finding him willing but disoriented. The driver from Star Reliables was well-paid to do his job and notice nothing. Pearl knew Gaheris would be in his room well before dawn.
“Now,” Pearl said to Brenda when the limo had pulled away, “if you and I were sensible, we would get some sleep. The others will wake at the usual hour and we will have a great deal to tell them. Do you think you could manage to drop off?”
Brenda shook her head. “But if you want to try, I could go do e-mail or read or something.”
“I don’t think I could sleep either,” Pearl admitted. “Let’s make more tea—or coffee if you’d prefer—and go into my office. We might as well note down everything that happened while it’s fresh. Who knows what little detail might be important later?”
Brenda nodded. “Okay.” She started down the hall to the kitchen, then stopped in midstride. “Pearl, you don’t think I’m an idiot for suddenly feeling really scared, do you? I mean, we won, but it’s going to be a long time before I can forget what it was like to wake up from a nightmare and find it real just on the other side of the wall.”
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