‘What are those?’ Nathan asked, half hiding behind his handkerchief.
‘Fried beetles,’ Yoyo replied, crunching into one with relish. ‘High in protein and iron.’
‘Why don’t you try one?’ Topaz suggested, mischievously passing them over.
Nathan pushed it away gingerly. ‘I have a solemn rule: no bugs after sundown.’
Jake noticed that the waiter had a false leg – a piece of roughly shaped wood attached to his knee. His other, real leg looked frail, with black feet and curling toes. Wanting to help him out, Jake also threw a coin into the tray and took a skewer – though he didn’t fancy insects either.
‘What’s the worst that could happen?’ He grimaced as he bit into one. ‘Quite tasty, actually – like a burned shrimp.’
‘Jake is the only truly brave one amongst you,’ Yoyo declared.
Nathan bristled. ‘Excuse me, my good man’ – he clicked his fingers – ‘another portion here please.’ He too paid up and bit into the beetle with a determined smile. ‘Delicious! Heavenly! Never tasted the like!’
Looking around, Topaz suddenly noticed something odd. ‘They don’t look like they belong here,’ she said under her breath, nodding towards some new arrivals: four older men wearing silk robes and clutching pieces of paper. They seemed far more well-to-do than anyone else in the room; a few locals stared at them over the brims of their teacups as they conferred and took the next-door table.
A man with a long, thin moustache came out from behind the counter – the manager, Jake guessed – and approached them. The oldest of the customers perused the menu before placing his order, speaking very deliberately. The manager nodded, turned and went back to the counter.
Yoyo whispered to the others, ‘He just ordered Jun Shan, but Jun Shan is not on the menu . . .’
‘What is it?’ Jake whispered back.
‘Golden Needles, the rarest tea in China,’ she replied.
The manager returned with a tray, poured out four cups of tea, bowed and took his leave. The four men had a hushed conversation before the eldest reached inside the pot, retrieved something and nodded at the others. They all stood up, filed across the room, round the back of the stage and out through a low door. Their cups of tea were left steaming on the table.
‘What was in that teapot?’ Jake wondered. There were shrugs all round.
‘There’s only one thing for it . . .’ Topaz beckoned the manager over. ‘Jun Shan. For four,’ she said. He narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing each of them in turn – but returned with a teapot, filling four cups and leaving them to it. Topaz peered into the pot and saw something glistening at the bottom. Turning the vessel on its side so as not to scald her fingers, she reached in and pulled out a small jade disc. It was the size of a coin, with a rectangular hole in its centre and a motif of waves inscribed on it.
‘Let’s go,’ she said. They all left the table and followed the route the other men had taken. The manager watched them suspiciously.
They emerged into an empty storeroom, lit by a single flickering lantern. The four men had disappeared; all they could see was just some old pieces of scenery leaning against the side walls.
‘This building seems to just swallow everyone up,’ Nathan commented wryly.
Jake’s attention was drawn to a pair of painted backdrops – one of conical mountains rising through clouds, the other of a crumbling palace under the sea.
‘Look at the back wall,’ Topaz said. Jake did a double take. The mural was almost identical to the giant seascape they had seen in Xi Xiang’s house in London – though this one was faded and hard to make out.
‘The Lazuli Serpent?’ He pointed to a stone crystal in the centre that was engraved with strange markings.
They examined it more carefully and discovered a narrow slot in the wall just below the crystal. ‘Is everyone thinking what I’m thinking?’ Topaz asked, holding up the jade disc.
‘Fire away, by all means!’ Nathan suggested.
Topaz posted the coin into the slot and let it drop. For a moment there was silence, then the whirring of machinery: the central section of the mural clicked open to reveal a long stone passageway leading to what appeared to be a garden at the far end. They exchanged looks, then Topaz gave a signal. As they stepped cautiously along the corridor, the scent of flowers wafted through, along with the tinkling of fountains and the distant cries of peacocks.
At last they emerged from the clammy darkness. The transformation was astonishing – somehow they had come from a scruffy tea house in a rough part of town into the grounds of what appeared to be a palace. They were in a square cloister, bordered on all sides by a stone loggia covered with flowers. It was a relief to be away from the pungent odours of the city, but the air was stiller and the heat more intense than ever.
A gravel path crossed the centre of the square between two rectangular ponds full of huge white lily flowers. In the middle stood a bronze statue on a pedestal – a man with his arms held out as if to welcome them. Beyond him, an archway led to a larger courtyard. Above the cloister walls they could see the curved roofs of more buildings.
Jake wondered how such a place could lie hidden from the rest of the city. He looked back at the sheer wall – the other side of the stone ridge into which the Ocean Door had been built. It divided the gardens from the rest of the town, and they had just burrowed straight through it.
A sound of splashing came from one of the ponds and Jake peered down. Something was moving under the canopy of lily leaves. A glistening shape broke the surface, roiling and curling back in again.
‘Eels!’ Topaz recoiled at the sight. ‘Is there a viler creature on this planet?’
‘Well,’ Nathan said in a quiet voice, ‘do we investigate?’
Cautiously they headed along the path, stopping to examine the statue – a slim, elderly man dressed in traditional Chinese robes; his head was bent forward, half smiling. In the upturned palm of one hand he held a globe; in the other, a pair of scales.
‘Look,’ Topaz said, drawing their attention to an inscription in Chinese characters on the base of the pedestal.
‘Shen Pei-Pei,’ Yoyo translated. ‘So this is certainly his place.’
‘In which case,’ Nathan pondered, ‘are we to assume that’s he’s printing money for himself?’
‘What about this treasure house of his . . . the golden pagoda?’ Jake asked. ‘Do you think it’s here?’
Suddenly there was a rumble of thunder, much closer now, and the sky lit up like a flashbulb. For a moment they were all blinded. When their sight returned, they saw a man in a simple smock, short ragged trousers and a wide rice hat coming through the arch towards them, his bare feet crunching on the gravel. All four History Keepers reached for their sword hilts, but they soon realized that the man presented no threat: he was painfully thin and stooped and had a bad limp.
With a trembling hand he scooped something out of a basket under his arm and tossed it into the ponds. The water bubbled as the eels came to feed, and he mumbled softly to them as they ate. Lost in his own world, he paid no attention to Jake and the others. Nathan threw Jake a quizzical look.
The man turned towards them, looking up from under his hat. Jake noticed a flash of something around his neck – a stone pendant. He spoke to them in Chinese, and Yoyo translated.
‘He asked if we are here for the congress . . .’ The stranger went on without waiting for a reply. ‘He says we should proceed through the arch to the hall on the right – it has already begun.’
‘Ask him if Pei-Pei is here?’ Nathan said.
‘Pei-Pei?’ the man suddenly said, nodding his head and letting out a little cackle, before disappearing into the darkness again.
‘He’s madder than a wet hen in a sack,’ Nathan murmured.
Jake looked up fearfully as another pulse of lightning split the sky.
‘Come on.’ Topaz led the way into the next, larger courtyard. On either side stood a grand building, dark red in colou
r and topped with curving roofs clad in millions of golden tiles. ‘Let’s see what’s going on in here.’ She nodded towards the building on the right: the double doors were open, casting a soft pool of light across the courtyard, and they heard a rumble of chatter inside.
They tiptoed to the side of the building and, making sure their faces were in shadow, peered in.
It was a large room, lit by dozens of chandeliers, its cylindrical pillars painted red and gold with motifs of fire and water. Gathered along one side of a table was a group of forty or so people, all Chinese, mostly men, expensively dressed in embroidered silk gowns. Amongst them, Jake spotted the four they had seen in the tea house.
On the counter before them were models of ships: maquettes of junks and galleons, rendered in intricate detail. Some of the men were kneeling down to get a closer look at them, inside and out.
Then a gong sounded and everyone turned as a woman glided into the room. The chatter stopped. Jake recognized her immediately.
‘Madame Fang . . .’
15 THE GOLDEN PAGODA
‘THAT’S HER?’ TOPAZ asked.
‘No doubt about it.’
‘I’ll give her this,’ Nathan said. ‘Style-wise, she’s audacious. Few people could get away with that assemblage.’
In London, Madame Fang had been in Jacobean costume – black gown and white ruff; now she looked like an empress. Despite the heat, she wore a court robe, embroidered with swirling flames and dragons, that hung down to her red lotus slippers (red shoes were obviously her trademark). Around her tiny neck was a necklace of jade and rubies; her tall headdress of peacock feathers and pearl droplets gently shook as she turned her head. Her face, though old, had a brittle beauty and her black eyes were utterly magnetic.
She welcomed her guests with a bow and started talking in a slow, measured tone. Jake hadn’t yet heard her speak, and was surprised by how deep and smoky her voice was.
The girls craned their necks to hear and Yoyo started translating, in a whisper: ‘I am here to talk to you about our enemies in the western world. They have come to our lands – the British, the Portuguese, the Dutch – set up their colonies here, appeared to be our allies, our partners.’ The old woman paused for dramatic effect. ‘It is a trick – so they may take over our kingdoms.’
‘Enemies? Take over their kingdoms?’ Nathan repeated indignantly. ‘What’s she talking about?’
‘Sssh!’ Yoyo put her finger to her lips to silence him and carried on: ‘In two days’ time, the west will declare war on us. In the weeks and months that follow, they will send their fleets to invade us, to enslave us—’
‘Enslave us? This is nonsense!’ Nathan interrupted again, and this time Topaz put her hand over his mouth.
Yoyo continued paraphrasing Fang’s speech, which was becoming more and more animated. ‘We must defend ourselves! My master, the great Shen Pei-Pei, wishes to help you, to help his country.’ She clapped her hands and a stream of servants filed into the room and distributed small golden caskets to all the guests. Inside each they found a thick wodge of banknotes tied with a ribbon. There were amazed murmurs at the sight. ‘For each of you, we provide a fortune. Use it wisely. Build your ships of war. As for your ships that are already built, convert them for battle.’ Fang glanced at every face in the room in turn as she slowly raised her arms high. Her voice boomed like a drum. ‘The war is coming! Be ready for your country!’
Her speech finished, she bowed, stepped over towards the model ships and circulated imperiously amongst her guests.
‘The war is coming . . . be ready for your country?’ Topaz repeated. ‘China has never had an interest in moving against the west; now less than ever. Yet Fang said war would be declared in two days’ time. We need to find out why, and quickly.’
They went down an alley behind the building into the garden. They all saw the pagoda at once: six octagonal tiers rising up between tall Chinese pines.
‘That’s the treasure house?’ Nathan asked.
It had perhaps once been splendid – it was, after all, described as the golden pagoda – but it was now past its best. It was slightly lopsided, and the gilding had all but flaked off, leaving dark grey wood underneath. There were no lights on inside, adding to the ghostly feel. Only one window at the very top was open – wide open.
Looking carefully about them, they crossed the garden towards it, slipping in and out of the shadows.
As they drew close to the pagoda, they saw a moat around it, about ten feet across, the surface covered in lily pads. There was one tall door that evidently lowered like a drawbridge over the moat; two posts jutted out of the water to secure it when it was down. The door, covered with ivy and cobwebs, had clearly not been accessed in a while.
Jake wasn’t convinced. ‘Are we sure there isn’t another golden pagoda?’
‘There’s only one way to find out,’ Yoyo said. She took a few steps back and flew across the water, using one of the posts as a stepping stone to leap to the other side.
Topaz tutted in irritation. ‘Qu’est-ce qu’elle a, cette fille?’
‘That was a great jump, if you don’t mind me saying,’ Nathan called over to Yoyo.
‘Please don’t encourage her,’ his sister sighed.
Yoyo turned back to them. ‘Well, as I am here, shall I look inside?’
‘Be my guest,’ Topaz said, tight-lipped.
Yoyo went over to a porthole window, which was secured with iron bars. She pulled herself up and peered inside. ‘This must be it,’ she said. ‘There are lots of display cabinets, but I can’t see inside them. Shall I try and get in?’ She strained at the bars.
‘Don’t do anything!’ Topaz hissed back, taking a dagger from her belt and peeling back the surface of lily leaves from the moat. Eels, a little fatter than the previous ones, seethed under the water. Topaz’s heart sank, but she put on a brave face. ‘Can everyone get across all right?’
‘No problem,’ Nathan said, taking a few steps back and leaping over.
‘Jake?’
‘Of course . . .’ He shrugged, hiding his fear, then took a run-up and launched himself into the air. As he vaulted off the post, his foot skimmed the water; the eels surfaced and snapped at it – but he reached the other side unharmed, into the arms of Yoyo. He nodded back at Topaz.
She braced herself, and gave a grunt as she jumped. But her foot slipped on the post and she tumbled into the moat; the water erupted in a frenzy around her.
Terror stamped on her face, Topaz dragged herself up onto the bank. Three eels were still attached to her legs, letting out a curious whistle as they hung there, tails thrashing. Jake flew to her aid, expertly slicing his sword through all three creatures at once.
Worried that Fang and her guests would hear the commotion, the others helped him pull Topaz into the shadows. The three eel heads were still attached to her leg. As Jake picked them off, forcing their jaws open, she lay there panting, her trembling hands covering her mouth in horror. Jake had seen her look truly frightened only once before: the night on board the Lindwurm when he had tried to save her from Prince Zeldt, her own diabolical uncle, who had kidnapped her on his sister’s orders.
‘All right?’ he asked.
Topaz got her breathing under control and gave him a smile. ‘Petites créatures méchantes,’ she panted, pulling herself to her feet.
They took turns to peer through the round window. Inside, the whole ground floor was laid out like a museum. The gilt-edged cabinets, like the pagoda itself, looked dusty and shabby. A spiral staircase led up to the next level.
‘Jake, do you have Dr Chatterju’s quill and ink?’ Topaz asked.
‘Of course.’ He had been entrusted with them before leaving Point Zero, and handed them over.
She unscrewed the ink bottle, dipped in the quill and set it down next to the window bars. They took cover as it produced a cloud of smoke, making the metal burn and blister, before exploding with a flash of white.
Topaz gave one of
the bars a forceful tug. It didn’t budge, and she yanked it again, twice; finally it popped out of its casing. She removed the two adjacent rods, then hauled herself up through the opening and carefully let herself down on the other side. The floorboards creaked under her weight. Checking that it was safe, she motioned for the others to follow.
They went through one by one and set about examining the displays.
Topaz wiped the dust off a cabinet containing pieces of fine Chinese porcelain. The adjacent one was the same. ‘It seems we’re in the right place,’ she said. ‘Pei-Pei’s collection. Let’s not get distracted, though. We’re after the Lazuli Serpent – and we all know what it looks like.’
‘I have to ask . . .’ Jake said. ‘If this stone is so important, would it be kept here? No one’s been in this place for ages.’
‘I agree with Jake,’ Yoyo said. ‘It doesn’t make sense.’
‘And I agree with Yoyo; she’s usually right,’ Nathan added unhelpfully.
Topaz was beginning to lose patience. ‘Well, now we’re here, could we just look?’ she asked testily.
The four agents carefully checked the cabinets, examining all the displays, but they uncovered nothing but more pieces of old porcelain.
Topaz turned to Yoyo. ‘Am I right in saying that in these types of treasure houses the higher you go, the more valuable things become?’
‘It’s not a rule, but possibly,’ she conceded.
Topaz nodded, then led the way up the spiral staircase to the next floor. Here there were more dusty cabinets; these held ancient robes, garments and headpieces. The next level housed some larger works of art, mostly soapstone sculptures, as well as a collection of bronzes of oriental deities and some lacquer ornaments, as did the third floor.
There were no crystals to be found, so they crept up to the last storey but one. ‘This looks more promising,’ Topaz said: the cabinets here were finely crafted – almost like works of art in themselves. A quick inspection of their contents showed they contained real treasure.
Jake had never seen such riches before. There were carved ivory figures and jade animals; ebony phoenixes and garnet dragons. There were golden artefacts – orbs, sceptres and crowns – encrusted with sapphires, emeralds, opals and tourmalines. His eye was drawn to one object in particular: an immense blue quartz engraved with a tableau of the ocean: a man had fallen out of his boat into the sea, his arms outstretched and his mouth wide open in a silent scream as a jellyfish curled round his limbs, dragging him down to the depths.
History Keepers: Nightship to China Page 14