Then there remained the small matter of Zhudai being in possession of her ruby-studded Life-dagger. She wasn’t entirely sure what the implications of being separated from the dagger were but she had a feeling they wouldn’t be good.
As if reflecting her thoughts, the first thing she saw on entering Zhudai’s apartments, was her dagger. It lay, in plain view, on a desk in one corner of the room. Otherwise, the room was empty. Unlike her own ornate rooms, Zhudai’s were plain to the point of being austere. It came as a shock after the over-lush silk-and-gold style of the rest of the palace. Jade decided he probably did it on purpose to make people uncomfortable. He’d succeeded. She felt decidedly ill-at-ease.
Without another word, Li Lei and the guards bowed and left her alone in the den of her worst enemy in this world.
Keeping an eye on the door, Jade edged toward the desk. As she drew nearer, her heart raced, thumping against her chest. Gingerly, she picked up the dagger, examining the handle with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. There were only two whole rubies left. Somehow, probably during her capture or captivity, one more of her lives had been taken. She now had only one spare ‘death’ left.
There was a slight noise behind her. She whirled, hiding the dagger behind her back.
Zhudai entered the room.
On silent feet, Jade backed up until her shoulders hit a wall and she had nowhere to go. She held her breath, waiting for him to challenge her; to demand her dagger back. Instead, he turned away, seeming not to even see her in this darkened corner. Bemused, Jade stared at the arch-nemesis of her game. Something was wrong.
It was Zhudai, and yet, somehow, different from last time she’d seen him, in Egypt. Here, he looked…younger, almost…handsome. Gone were the long, black fingernails; gone the severe, black silk robe; gone the sneering look of arrogance. Now, he wore a loose-fitting robe of dark blue, embroidered with a red, long-feathered bird similar to that on her own robe. His dark hair was tied back at the nape of his neck. On his head sat a red and black hat – round and with bits sticking out over his ears. Three rows of rubies dangled from each side. He looked…pensive, worried – but not angry or evil. She had to look closely to be sure it really was him.
Apparently still oblivious to her presence, he took off the odd hat and smoothed his hair with long, strong fingers. Laying the hat on a narrow table, he clasped both hands behind his back and paced away to stare out the window.
Jade withdrew the dagger from behind her back and looked at it in the palm of her hand. What if he just hadn’t seen her? Could it be this easy? Could she possibly end this whole game here and now? She had, many weeks ago, made a pact with Phoenix that if either of them got an unmissable chance to kill Zhudai, they would do so. This seemed to qualify as an unmissable chance. If only she’d learned from Cadoc how to throw knives.
Folding her fingers tightly around the hilt of her knife, Jade decided she had to try.
She slipped around the desk, circling until she stood directly behind the warlock and he could not possibly see her. Her heart pounded so loudly she feared he would hear it. Drawing a long, slow breath, she stalked nearer, trying to steady her hand and heart. Palms slick with sweat, Jade held the dagger horizontal, aiming to slide it neatly between the second and third ribs on the left side. It would take just one sure stroke to kill this man; to end this Quest once and for all; to send herself and Phoenix home to England. Just one, well-placed strike to the heart.
She swallowed. She’d never killed anyone like this: one on one. Phoenix and Marcus had killed many in battle and in self-defence; even Brynn had; but Jade had only ever struck to incapacitate. Certainly people had died in this game as result of her actions – an exploding cauldron, an overheated furnace. They had been more by accident than intent. Something in her avatar’s Spellweaver upbringing stayed her hand from a killing stroke, whenever possible, each time she actually did battle with an enemy. That same hand trembled, now, when faced with the prospect of cold-blooded murder.
“Why do you hesitate?” Zhudai swung to face her, his expression curious and calm.
Jade gasped, shocked. The knife fell from nerveless fingers, clattering on the polished wood floor. Swiftly, Zhudai retrieved and examined it. He caught her wary gaze with his fathomless black one.
“You had an opportunity to kill me and end your Quest,” he raised arched brows at her and tilted his head to one side. “Why didn’t you?”
When she didn’t answer, he smiled faintly. “I don’t think you lack the courage – I’ve seen what you are capable of, many times. Perhaps you just lack experience. Would you like to try again?” Flipping the knife over, he held it by the blade and offered it back.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jade stared at the knife as though it would bite and slowly shook her head.
Zhudai grimaced, glancing down at the bronze blade. “Perhaps you are right not to gain this particular experience. It gets much easier after the first one, though – as your friend, Phoenix, has discovered.”
She rediscovered her voice, harsh though it sounded. “You don’t know anything about Phoenix.”
The sorcerer’s mouth twisted. He gestured toward a pair of low-backed divan seats nearby. “You’d be surprised how much I do know about all of you. Remember that I watched you through much of your travels in Albion and again in Egypt. Please, sit.”
Not knowing what else to do, Jade sat on the very edge, poised to flee. He placed the dagger between them on a low, glossy-black table. Several plates of fingerfoods were spread out there but her stomach rejected the thought of eating. She sent the sorcerer a quick look from beneath her lashes, wondering what to do; what he was going to do.
Zhudai tilted his head again, eyeing her with undisguised curiosity. He leaned back, folding his hands over his stomach in the most casual manner imaginable.
“Brynn is the youngest; a thief and mischief-maker; not terribly constrained by the morals that seem to prevent you from taking action. He admires you and Phoenix immensely but sometimes resents your mothering and enjoys provoking Phoenix. He has secretly stolen many more things than you realise.”
Jade blinked at him in astonishment. He had hit Brynn’s character exactly and only confirmed other things that she’d already suspected anyway. It was unnerving.
He continued, seemingly oblivious to her reactions. “Marcus,” he raised a finger, “now Marcus is a different beast altogether. Strong, quick to think but slow to speak. Impressive swordsman and archer, brilliant tactician. He admires you too,” the sorcerer threw Jade a swift, amused glance, “but in a completely different way.”
She flushed and looked away, raising her chin and shutting her mouth firmly.
“Marcus has, however, one flaw,” Zhudai continued.
Almost against her will, Jade’s curiosity stirred. She stilled, awaiting the rest.
“He is a Roman, raised by a Roman general to think as a Roman soldier does. In his heart, he believes the rest of the world to be barbaric and inferior.” Zhudai shrugged. “Marcus is more like his father than he realises. He enjoyed leading the vast armies of India into battle; and one day will do the same for Rome. He finds it difficult to follow Phoenix, whom he considers inexperienced and sometimes rash.”
Jade fought to prevent herself from returning a hot denial. Her fingernails bit into the palms of her hands and she allowed the flare of pain to distract her until she could control her anger.
“Very good,” Zhudai admired. “You have much better self-control than Phoenix. Poor boy,” he sighed and shook his head. “He really was not well prepared for the realities of this realm, was he?”
This time, Jade had to bite back the urge to agree with him. It was true. By treating it as a great, fun game, Phoenix had coped well with the world of 80AD to begin with but he struggled as it got harder. He had improved, though – they both had. She pressed her lips together.
“So angry,” Zhudai murmured, seemingly to himself. “Phoenix, I mean,” he clarified.
“He carries such deep anger and it spills out so often. Did you know that he almost killed Marcus again, in India, after you came here? He let his anger at your capture overcome him and Blódbál took control.”
Startled, Jade glanced up. Zhudai’s gaze was sympathetic, almost kind. He nodded gently. Picking up a slice of fruit, he examined it before nibbling on the end.
“Luckily, Marcus was the better swordsman, it seems. He killed him.”
“Marcus killed Phoenix?” Sheer, disbelieving astonishment forced the words from her lips. She ran a thumb across the palm of her left hand.
“Oh,” he assured her, “it was all in a good cause, apparently. Phoenix had broken his arm and without you there to heal him, Marcus felt it was the simplest way. At least, that’s what my spies tell me.”
Jade looked at him for a long time, trying to read whether he told the truth. His face gave nothing away. It did sound horribly plausible. That explosion when Yajat captured her. Phoenix could well have been injured and he definitely would have been angry at her for being dumb enough to get kidnapped. A rush of guilt made her bite her lip. If she had been more careful; if she had fought off Yajat; if she hadn’t trusted Cadoc, who had betrayed them…
“Tell me,” Zhudai interrupted her tumultuous thoughts, “would you like to go home?”
“What?” The change of subject left her confused. “You mean back to my room?”
“No, home. To your world; your time; your family. Home.”
His words triggered an overwhelming longing. Jade’s mind filled with images: her real father; her plants and books; even her sisters and mother. To be free and home again; back in her thirteen year old body; back in her house; back with her father; back with no overwhelming worries and responsibilities. It was what she’d been working toward for the last four weeks. She was tired of the hardship and bloodletting; tired of the fear and worry; tired of being a kid in an adult world and adult body; tired of being tired.
Slowly, she nodded. “Yes.”
He leaned further back on the divan, holding his head up with one hand and curling his legs beneath him; casual and relaxed. Not at all the evil, villainous warlock she’d been expecting.
“Then we have that in common, for I would like you to leave this realm. I can do it, you know,” he inspected the back of one hand. “I can send you home.”
Jade sprang to her feet, hope, anger, resentment and hurt all warring in her chest until she was surprised she could speak at all. Fists clenched at her sides, she forced the words out through gritted teeth. “You’re lying. You can’t. We have to win to get home. It’s the only way. And anyway, what about Phoenix and the others?”
Sitting up again, Zhudai leaned forward, a slight smile on his lips. “I can send all of them home. Think about it. You don’t know that defeating me is the only way to get home. You’re only guessing, aren’t you?”
“No!” She shot back. Somewhere, however, a tiny seed of doubt began to grow. What if he was right? Only the mystery woman in the gray limbo world had ever actually told them the only way to go home was to win the game. What if she had lied? They didn’t even know who she was. What if it weren’t true at all? What if all this fighting and dying had been for nothing?
“No,” she repeated, appalled at the possibility. What if the person they thought was the badguy, was actually the source of their escape from this realm? What if they had guessed wrong?
Zhudai remained silent, watching her with eyes full of sympathy.
Jade shook her head, trying to rediscover the determination; the wary anger at her supposed enemy. “No. You can’t be telling the truth. Otherwise, why would you have tried so hard to stop us? Why did you have me killed and kidnapped? No. Our task is to defeat you. If we do that, we’ll go home. It’s that simple.”
He shrugged. “If you say so. But, just so you know: I was only trying to stop you because I thought you wanted to kill me. Once I found out you just wanted to go home, I kidnapped you instead. You’re a bright girl. I thought you, more than Phoenix, might be open to reason.” He stood and bowed. “I can see I made a mistake but I’ll give you time to think about it anyway. Li Lei will escort you back to your room now.”
Turning on his heel, he strode from the room, his blue robes fluttering. Jade stared after him, more confused than ever.
She glanced down. Her knife still lay on the table.
*****
“Good morning. Feeling better now?”
Phoenix pried his sleep clogged eyes open. “Gaark!” He flung up a hand, startled by the wrinkled apparition just inches from his face.
Zhi Hui chuckled and stood up, nodding her greying head amicably. Her sparkling eyes vanished in a mass of wrinkles. Still chortling, the old woman hobbled out of the room and disappeared into another.
He sat up, scraping his long hair back and rubbing gritty eyes. It was morning but only just. He glanced around the dwelling. After a long trek through muddy farmland, they’d arrived late and in the dark, so they hadn’t had much of a look at where Zhi Hui lived. He remembered tripping over a ridiculously high doorstep and sprawling ignominiously into a paved courtyard. After that, it had just been a blur of sliding doors, rooms and a bed on the floor. He hadn’t cared much past the bed.
By dawn-daylight, he could see the house wasn’t grand but it wasn’t a mud hut, either. Zhi Hui had left the door open and he could see out onto the courtyard. There were three wings to the house, all facing into the courtyard. What would have been the open, fourth side, was not. Instead, it was a high wall, pierced only by a large, round wooden double-door set in a round, brick frame. Across the red doors danced an ornately carved dragon, painted white with gold eyes and talons. More dragons, ceramic this time, perched on top of the sweeping, sharply peaked, tiled roofs of the house. Phoenix smiled to himself. It was exactly the sort of building he’d expected to see in China. Very cool.
Somewhere, close by, a gong sounded. Breakfast? Phoenix’s stomach rumbled at the thought. He struggled off the floor-mat, shivering. It was cooler here than in India. He grabbed his cloak and threw it over his shoulders, pausing only long enough to strap Blódbál back onto his hip. A quick glance around showed two more sleeping mats – empty. Presumably Brynn and Marcus were already up.
Following his nose, Phoenix found his way to the kitchen area. Marcus and Brynn were there, seated crosslegged around a low, black table. They glanced up and nodded in greeting without stopping their steady inhalation of food. Zhi Hui smiled again and waved him toward a seat. Phoenix sat cautiously, kneeling in seiza, still not sure whether or not to trust this strange old woman. She placed a steaming bowl of something in front of him.
“Eat. Eat. You are safe here for awhile.” She bowed and turned back to her cooking.
“S’good,” Brynn said thickly, wiping his mouth with a sleeve. “No idea what it is but it tastes good.” He’d given up trying to use chopsticks and used his fingers instead.
Phoenix looked at Marcus, who nodded and shrugged as if to say he didn’t think it was dangerous, anyway. Phoenix ate. It was good and he was hungry.
After they were finished, Zhi Hui lead them into a spartan lounge area where they sat in conference around another low table. The old woman’s face was now serious.
“There is much for you to know and do before your quest will be complete,” she said, “and little time for it. The ri shi is now just three days away.”
“What?” Phoenix demanded. “What do we need to know? Who are you, anyway? Why do I feel like I know you?”
“Of course you know me. I came to you when you first arrived in Albion and told you of your task.” Zhi Hui matter-of-factly poured herself a cup of tea.
“That was you in the gray limbo place!” Phoenix pointed an accusing finger at her. “You’re the one who told us we had to complete these quests to be able to get home. “
The old woman nodded serenely.
“But why? What does Zhudai have to do with you? Why do you care if we defeat him
?” Phoenix couldn’t see the connection and it irritated him to think he’d been manipulated by this meddling old lady.
“I am Long Baiyu’s mother,” she said simply. “And it is your task to free my son from his imprisonment.”
“Oh no. No way,” He shook his head emphatically. “You’ve already had your go at telling us what to do and I’m doing that and nothing more. Our job is to free Jade so we can master the Yu Dragon, defeat Zhudai and end this insanity once and for all. There was no mention of breaking anyone else out of jail.”
Zhi Hui’s solemn gaze didn’t change. “There are many paths to the top of the mountain but the view is the same in the end.”
Phoenix met her look with a cynical one of his own. “I’m happy to listen to you when you start making sense again.”
She looked mildly affronted but only folded her hands in her lap. “Only by freeing my son will you have a chance to prevent Zhudai from succeeding. Without Baiyu’s help, your quest will fail,” she explained.
“Oh come on,” He groaned. “It was going to be hard enough without this as well.” He sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Alright, alright. Why do we need him? We’ve done pretty well up to now.”
“Baiyu and Zhudai were once friends,” Zhi Hui’s face sagged with remembered sadness. “Almost brothers. They grew up together, trained together, learned together from the greatest of our wizards and wise men. Then, seven years ago, something broke between them; divided the harmony of their friendship and they went their separate ways. Zhudai vanished. Baiyu remained here as tutor to the young Prince Zhang.”
Phoenix jumped at her use of the word ‘harmony’. It cropped up too many times during this adventure to be just a coincidence. In every level, their task involved restoring balance and harmony, somehow. He decided the old lady was worth listening to.
“Five years ago, young Zhang became the Emperor Han Zhangdi. At that time, Baiyu refused the role of Grand Vizier and, instead, went into the western mountains for a time, studying and meditating with the Buddhist monks there.”
The Yu Dragon Page 6