by Kylie Chan
‘Do you really want it that badly?’
Simone gestured towards his chest. ‘I want to stop them doing that to you.’
‘I may consider returning it to you when you no longer want it for revenge.’
She sighed loudly. ‘Yeah, I know the drill.’ She bent and kissed him on the cheek and he rubbed her back affectionately.
‘I have study to do,’ she said. ‘We only have a few more weeks until the final exams.’
‘You’ll be just fine,’ he said.
As she went out, he sighed. ‘I have enough to worry about without dealing with the pair of you wanting to go off and throw yourselves at a demon that has been working for years to make itself more powerful.’
‘I won’t let her,’ I said.
‘I’m very glad. I’m also glad that she won’t let you.’
After John was asleep, I went back to my reference books. Hickory was loudly complaining to Simone in the room next-door to me, and Simone was trying to placate her.
‘I opened it, and it was a black one!’ Hickory said. ‘I cannot believe this — he got me a black one. I told him I wanted a white one six weeks ago, and he goes and buys me a black one. My life is completely over.’
‘But there’s no difference,’ Simone said. ‘Look at this one — everything’s the same.’
‘Oh my god, see?’ Hickory said. ‘You have a white one. Honestly, how could any father get something so completely wrong?’
‘This is actually a black one. Michael changed it to white a while ago to annoy me,’ Simone said.
‘Michael?’ Hickory’s voice grew sly. ‘Michael who? There’s no Michael in our grade.’
‘Michael MacLaren.’
Hickory gasped. ‘The Tiger’s Number One?’
‘Didn’t you know he used to live in the House of the North?’
‘No?’ Hickory was breathless. ‘He lived here?’
‘Beside the point now, he’s the Tiger’s Number One,’ Simone said. ‘He made this phone white to piss me off. His father had to have a white one, so Michael stole mine and practised on it before he did his father’s.’
‘That is so cool,’ Hickory said. ‘You are so lucky. Look at me, my dad is so useless he goes out and buys me a black one. He did this deliberately to hurt me, I’m sure of it. If he loved me, he’d get me a white one when I asked for it.’ She thumped the desk. ‘I get next to no allowance and they make me help running the household. I have to work. I might as well be a slave. I just wish they’d die.’
‘Hickory,’ Simone said, her voice taut with restraint, ‘your father is a dragon and he’s mortal. He won’t be around forever. How can you talk like that about him? God, my dad’s freaking Immortal and I treasure every minute with him. I missed him so much when I was growing up —’
Hickory cut her off. ‘It’s all right for you, you have a white phone.’
‘I’d swap a million stupid white phones for the ten years I lost with him,’ Simone said. ‘Now can we go back to the major phyla? If we don’t get these memorised, we’ll fail our finals and never be able to buy ourselves anything, black or white.’
‘I wonder if I can take it back to the shop and get them to change it,’ Hickory said.
‘I can ask Michael to change the colour for you, if you like.’
‘Let me get my hair done before I talk to him!’
‘He’s engaged to be married, Hickory.’
‘So?’
‘And his fiancée was tortured by demons. They deserve all the happiness they can find together.’
‘God, Simone, sometimes you sound like my mother.’
‘Sometimes I feel old enough to be your mother.’
6
The next morning, a large group of students gathered at the main forecourt where John was giving Michael a one-on-one lesson with the Tiger looking on. John and Michael were both in ordinary human form, but the Tiger was in full Celestial Form. His face was a cross between a man’s and a tiger’s and he was three metres tall, covered in short white fur and wearing a robe of white and gold. His mane of white hair fell all the way down his back and was loosely tied with a gold ribbon at his waist. He had his arms crossed as he watched, one furry clawed hand resting on his other forearm.
John carried Dark Heavens, his preferred weapon in human form. Michael was using the White Tiger. They had passed the kata stage and John was attacking Michael with swift random strikes. Michael was deflecting them easily.
‘A click faster,’ John said, and attacked again.
Michael didn’t say anything; his face was full of concentration.
‘Click,’ John said, and ramped up the speed again. Michael’s expression hardened, but he continued to parry.
‘Click,’ John said, and his attacks became almost too fast to see. Michael’s parries were similarly fast, but on the eighth strike they both stopped at the same time. John’s sword was millimetres from Michael’s throat.
John swung the blade away from the side of Michael’s neck and stepped back. ‘That’s really the best you can do?’
Michael nodded.
John grew and stretched and darkened, taking Celestial Form. He was half a metre taller than the Tiger, with a square, dark, ugly face. Some of the students gasped with shock and took a few steps back, nearly treading on me behind them.
John towered over Michael. ‘Let’s try it full-on.’
Michael changed to Celestial Form as well, with white and gold armour and his snow-white hair in a short ponytail. He was the same height as his father and his golden skin glowed from within. He took up a guard position, and John dismissed the sword and attacked him barehanded. Michael used his sword to parry and John deflected every stroke to the bracers on his forearms. Michael didn’t touch him.
John moved faster, and Michael began to shift on the spot, moving more vigorously as he deflected the attacks with his sword, and unbalancing with the effort. Sparks flew from John’s bracers as Michael struck as hard as he could to deflect the blows.
They stopped mid-move. The blade of John’s hand was a centimetre from Michael’s larynx.
The Tiger dropped his arms and turned away. ‘Shit.’
John shrank to human size and stepped back. He crossed his arms and glowered at Michael. ‘Who has been training you?’
Michael drooped with misery. ‘The best in the West.’ He nodded to the Tiger. ‘The Emperor himself, when he has time. But nobody in the West is as good as you, my Lord.’
The Tiger turned back to face them and raised one arm towards John. ‘Nobody anywhere is as good as him. Don’t blame it on the West.’
‘Can you spare him twice a week?’ John said.
‘No, but do whatever it takes. It’s either send him over here twice a week or put up with him being continuously at the mercy of Pao Qing Tian in Court Ten.’
‘How often are they calling him out?’ John said.
‘Dad …’ Michael gestured towards the group of students watching them.
‘What?’
Michael sighed. ‘Having the Horsemen going after me is enough. I’d prefer not to have senior Wudang Disciples calling me out as well. I’d be spending so much time dead I’d never get anything done.’
‘Good point. Let’s either lose the tourists or go somewhere a bit more private,’ the Tiger said. ‘Got a training room big enough to work in Celestial Form?’
‘No, that’s why we’re out here,’ John said. He nodded to the students. ‘Dismissed.’
The students turned to go and I moved to join them.
‘Please stay, Emma, I have something to ask you,’ Michael said, and I waved one hand and waited.
John turned back to Michael. ‘I’ll order my Disciples not to call you out. They’re more obedient than the Horsemen; you won’t receive any trouble.’
‘Well, fuck you too, Turtle,’ the Tiger said.
John turned to the Tiger, summoned Dark Heavens and attacked him at neck height in one fluid movement.
Th
e Tiger performed a handspring backwards, more cat than human, and summoned a short curved sword in each hand. ‘Shit, Turtle, I apologise! I apologise!’
John swung Dark Heavens at the Tiger’s head faster than was visible. The Tiger was hard put to block the blade with both of his paws crossed in front of his face. He swept the blades down, feinted with his right towards John’s eyes and tried to get around his guard with the left into his side, but John moved faster, blocking both one after the other and locking the Tiger’s hands together. He pushed the Tiger away and stepped back, readying himself to attack again.
‘Seriously, Turtle, please, man,’ the Tiger said, panting. ‘I only just got the wife schedule under control from last time you executed me. I swear, it was a slip of the tongue —’
He didn’t finish because John lopped his head off. It bounced a couple of times and landed near Michael.
‘Well, thanks a lot,’ it said. ‘I haven’t seen my favourites in weeks, they miss out again, and now I have to redo the schedule. Thanks a bunch.’
John dismissed his sword and prodded the Tiger’s head with his foot. ‘Keep a more respectful tongue in your head and you may keep both of them more often.’
‘You know what to do, Number One,’ the Tiger’s head said.
‘Sure thing, Dad, have fun with Judge Pao,’ Michael said.
‘Erk,’ the head said, and it and the body disappeared.
‘Speak to Zara about arranging biweekly training sessions,’ John said to Michael. ‘Two hours each session. Let’s start again from the beginning.’
‘By your leave, my Lord,’ Michael said, and turned to call to me. ‘Miss Donahoe, may I have an interview after this training? I have something I need to ask you.’
‘Of course, Michael, I’ll be in the Residence, in the room you vacated.’
‘Thank you.’ He turned back to John. ‘Show me how to use the energy to speed it up again.’
Michael came into the spare room I’d set up as an office and smiled wryly. ‘I can’t even salute or anything. This feels really wrong.’
I pulled a chair over for him. ‘You’ve always been family, Michael, no need anyway.’
He spun the chair so that it was backwards and sat on it. ‘You offered to donate a kidney for Clarissa. I want to thank you personally for that.’
‘I’m compatible?’
‘No, you aren’t. But we’ve found a generous wife who is, and Clarissa will be getting a new kidney this week.’
‘That’s great news.’
‘When she’s recovered, I wonder if you could do me a favour?’
‘Sure, anything. Do you want me to speak to her for you?’
‘Yes, I do.’ He crossed his arms over the back of the chair. ‘She won’t see anybody. Her parents think she’s in a hospital in China, and they’re prepared to visit, but she won’t see them. She might see you, however; she has a lot of respect for you.’
‘I’m honoured.’
‘So are we. Will you?’
‘If she’s willing to see me, of course I am.’
He rose and spun the chair back into its place. ‘Thanks, Emma.’
Simone appeared in the doorway. ‘Emma, there’s a message for you from the Archivist —’ She saw Michael. ‘Oh, hi, Mike.’
He nodded to her. ‘Princess.’
She leaned on the doorway. ‘Cut it out.’
‘I’ll be going then,’ Michael said to me. ‘When Clarissa’s ready to see you, I’ll email and we can arrange something.’
‘How is Clarissa?’ Simone said.
‘She’s getting a new kidney, she’ll be fine,’ Michael said.
Simone went to him and patted him on the arm. ‘I’m really glad, Michael. That’s wonderful.’
He smiled down at her. ‘We’ll get there.’
She released his arm. ‘I know you will. She’s like a sister to me.’
‘I have to go. I’ll see you later.’ He ruffled her hair and she winced.
‘I hope you have gel all over your fingers,’ she said. ‘I just fixed it up.’
He leaned down to speak conspiratorially to her. ‘I already have gel on my fingers; how else do you think I spike the front of mine up?’ He turned and waved one hand at me. ‘Later, Emma.’
Simone looked longingly after him for a moment, then snapped out of it. ‘The Archivist wants to talk to you about your research on the West. He says give him a call so you can make an appointment.’
‘I’m free just about all the time. The only arrangement I need to make is for someone to carry me.’
‘I’m going to the library tomorrow morning to meet my study group,’ she said. ‘Are you free then?’
‘Sure.’
‘Let me see.’ Her eyes unfocused. ‘God, he’s rude. He says 9 am.’
The Archivist had changed the appearance of the Archives again. It was no longer floating islands; instead it appeared as a concrete bunker surrounded by barbed wire on steep snow-covered slopes.
‘This is unimpressive,’ I said.
‘Covert Ops,’ Simone said. ‘Boring. He spends way too much time playing it.’
She pointed to the edge of the compound where a group of snow-camouflaged soldiers were attempting an incursion, shooting at the guards in front of the bunker. The entrance to the bunker opened and the bullets whizzed around and sometimes through us. As we approached the Archivist’s office, we could hear him shouting.
‘Don’t give me that shit, try-hard, we lost because of you. I am so kicking you off the clan.’ He was silent for a moment, then his voice went up in pitch. ‘Twelve years old? Twelve years old? I’ll tell you who sounds twelve years old, mother—’ He was interrupted, but shouted them down. ‘I may sound fucking twelve years old but I got a few good solid centuries on you, asshole, and don’t you forget it.’
We entered his office to find him in the form of a twelve-year-old boy, sitting on a couch in front of a first-person shooter on a large-screen television.
‘So next time we’re out and it’s for ladder,’ he shouted into his headset, ‘you keep your fucking position when told.’ He saw us. ‘Never mind, I have to go. Work and shit. See you later, eh?’
He flipped off the headset and threw the controller to one side. ‘Ladies.’ He rose and gestured for us to sit across his desk, and took his seat behind it. ‘So glad you could come.’ He took out a wet wipe and wiped his hands, then tossed it into the bin. ‘Miss Donahoe, if you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to you alone.’ He bowed slightly to Simone and gestured towards the door. ‘Princess?’
Simone bowed stiffly back to him, unable to hide her distaste, and went out.
He leaned back in his executive chair, saw that the television was still on, and flicked it off with a wave of his hand. ‘So when are you going to Europe?’
I stared at him. ‘Not even a hello?’
He waved it away. ‘You’re a Westerner. You’re all a bunch of rude bastards, so I can skip that bit.’ He leaned forward over the desk. ‘So when are you going?’
‘After Mid-Autumn Festival. Lord Xuan wants to book the whole of first class on a single aircraft for his entourage; we’re looking for a flight where that’s available. At the moment there aren’t any, so his staff are checking about chartering a plane.’
‘Can’t he just carry you himself? He’s back to full Turtle strength.’
I leaned my chin on my hand. ‘The Demon King can incapacitate him at any time. He’s fallen out of the sky before; he’s knocked down a couple of outbuildings at the Northern Palace.’
The Archivist glowered. ‘I didn’t know that. Keep me informed.’
‘I’m adding to the Chronicles. I’ll email you copies.’
He nodded, satisfied. ‘Appreciated.’ His expression went stern again. ‘You shouldn’t go to the West. None of you should. This is a damn fool mission and you could stir up something we really don’t want to face.’
‘You’ve been doing some research?’
He spread h
is hands. ‘That’s what I do. This hasn’t really been a cause for concern since it’s all so far away, but if you’re heading over to the West you need to be prepared. Something’s not right there.’
‘I’m well aware of that. No Shen have been seen there in centuries.’
‘That’s just the beginning of it. You’ve been looking for the lost Shen, I know that, so I did some research into what’s there right now. This Western god of theirs — it’s seriously scary. Have you actually read any of your own holy book?’
‘Not my holy book, and some of it, yes.’
‘This god.’ He put his hand on a book on the desk and shook his head. ‘This god with no name — it likes the smell of burning flesh, and it kills its followers for breaking stupid petty rules that it makes up. It seems to enjoy tormenting the very people who follow it. It’s heavily into genocide; it’s helped its people to destroy whole cities and murder their entire populations. It told them to kill all the residents of the cities; men, women — hell, it told its soldiers to bash the children against rocks —’
‘The Middle Kingdom was doing exactly the same thing in the same time period,’ I said. ‘That book was written by men of that period, and they were boasting of their exploits.’
‘There are no Shen in the West. People blindly follow this god that has promised to destroy the world, and for some stupid reason they think this is a good thing. They’re not allowed to question it, they have to give up all semblance of free thought and just do as they’re told with this “faith” business. We’ve already lost half of Lord Xuan. I hate to think he might run into this … thing and lose his other half as well.’
‘My mother would have a heart attack if she heard you saying any of this. Her god is a god of love.’
‘A god of oppression, you mean. Especially women. This god wants women to be silent, servile child-making factories.’
‘Bah, you can speak. Only two of the Thirty-Five Generals are women.’
‘Not any more, they resigned.’ He spread his hands. ‘Okay, let’s not have this argument, because there won’t be any winner.’
‘In other words, you’re losing,’ I said.
He ignored me. ‘I am concerned for your safety, so please reconsider this plan to go to the West. Send agents instead. We don’t want to lose either of you.’