That same question was on T.J. Gillis' mind as he followed Damien through the nearly-deserted hallways of the palace. As long as they had known each other, they had developed a friendship that transcended doubt--but there were occasions when even that bond was strained, and this was one of them.
"Where are we going?"
"I have an idea," Damien answered. "And this may be the only time I can look into it."
"You realize that if something happens out there while we're down here, we could all end up getting killed. And if something doesn't happen, Ted's going to take us apart anyway for leaving our posts. He was counting on us tonight."
Damien had opened the door leading to the basement tunnels. "Just come with me. And be careful of the torches."
A few moments later they found themselves where the corridors branched off in different directions. Damien pointed right.
"There's nothing down there. I checked. But this way--" He turned left. "I don't know how far it goes, but I have a hunch."
"Is this why you brought me down here? Because you think there's something about these tunnels that could help us? I can tell you right now the most interesting thing about these rocks is that they would make great filler for your head."
"I brought you here," Damien said, making his way slowly down the tunnel, "because the last time I did this I realized exploring strange tunnels by yourself is a really bad idea. The fact that you're a geologist helps, but mostly I asked you because you're the only one I figured who would actually follow me down here."
"Well, now that I'm here…" the Professor looked the walls up and down as they passed, brushing them with his hand. "It's not all rock, but it still would have taken a long time to dig through this." He glanced down the length; the other end was hazy in the distance. "What's with the doors?"
"I'm pretty sure this was intended to be used as dungeons, way back when."
T.J. bit his lip. "That's a lot of dungeons. I'd say they were intended for defense. Somebody built this as an escape route, and they wanted to be able to close it off behind them."
"Everybody keeps saying that… Well, I know that there's a exit at the other end, but it would be a long way to run. And if it goes in the direction I think it does…"
"…Then it ends up under the army garrison building," T.J. finished. "Which is probably barred and guarded." He wiggled his eyebrows. "A great place to hold a couple of prisoners."
Damien grinned. From then on, they ignored the side doors as they worked their way to the end of the corridor. At last they reached it, marked by another of the repeated doors --but this one was closed, and judging from its solid immoveability when they pushed on it, barred from the other side.
T.J. stood back. "Well, Alfonse? I assume you came prepared for this."
Damien formally inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Indeed I did, Gaston. But now I need to ask you: Are you ready to go on? If we're wrong, we're going to ruin this door for no reason. General Xi is not going to be happy with us."
"If we're right, he's going to be even less happy with us. So my idea is: Let's not get caught."
Damien pulled a small bottle out of a coat pocket and gingerly set it on the ground. From another pocket, he extracted a case containing a glass pipette with a rubber bulb on one end. Working slowly, he dipped the pipette into the small bottle, carefully stoppering it after he was done. Without having to be told, T.J. stepped well back as Damien carefully applied the end of the pipette to the crack where the door met the framing timbers. There was a sudden fizzing and the wood began to disappear.
"The last time I was down here, I saw how solid the doors were, so I brought a better class of acid. It's going to take a few minutes to reach the bar on the other side," Damien muttered, "but as the acid eats through the door, I'll have more room to work with."
Despite his assurances, the Professor was starting to worry when Damien finally put the pipette back into its case and the tightly-sealed bottle back in his pocket. He gave the red-bearded chemist a doubtful look.
"Is it safe carrying that stuff around in your pocket? What if you get into a fight and it breaks?"
Damien grinned. "That's why I'm very careful which pocket it goes into. It's got a special lining. And all of my pockets are padded. You wouldn't even know I was carrying anything. Which is good, because some of what I carry, you don't know want to know."
Shaking his head, T.J. waited while Damien gently pushed the door. It gave reluctantly, opening to a more determined shove, followed by a hollow thunk as the cut portion of the bar fell to the floor. When there were no shouts or alarms, they went through.
The tunnel ended in a blank wall only twenty yards further on. There was no stairway to the floors above, nor any other obvious means of egress. Nonetheless, torches blazed on both walls every few yards, marking heavy doors bearing large brackets fitted to the stout timbers that were lined up with military precision beside every door.
Every door except one.
One door already featured a bar across it. Damien and T.J. exchanged glances. There was no point in watching the corridor behind them; if anyone came along, they were trapped, so both of them helped in removing the timber and setting it aside. The door opened outward, and they peered into the ten-by-twenty foot space beyond. Two figures were huddled together on a bench in the gloom. T.J. grabbed one of the torches while Damien stepped into the cell.
"Ambassador and Mrs. Reinhold, I presume?"
At that moment, the cell door slammed shut and the bar was dropped from the outside.
Chapter Thirty-four
Discoveries and Betrayals
They spun at the sound, but it was obviously too late. They had been found, and they were trapped.
T.J.'s torch showed them a man and woman in their forties, dirty, disheveled, and red-eyed from lack of sleep. It had been many years since they had last met Eric and Kate's parents, and if they had not been specifically looking for them, they would not have recognized them now.
The ambassador was holding himself in front of his wife, shielding her from whatever new mischief their captors had in mind, but the question was plain on his face.
"You're speaking English! Are you--are you Americans?"
"Yes, Mr. Ambassador. My name is Damien Pierrot. This is T.J. Gillis. We're friends of Eric and Kate's."
The ambassador sagged, and his wife had to hold him up. "Eric and Kate?" He looked at his wife. "They're not here, are they?"
"Kate is," Damien replied, "but she's all right."
The couple clutched at each other, and Damien wondered how much strength they had left between them.
"Why don't you sit down?" he asked. Jerking his head toward the door, he added: "I think we're going to be here a while."
"Should you not be enjoying yourself, Kate? I am sure I saw Hano a moment ago."
Kate had stopped asking herself why the princess's mood had suddenly changed earlier; it was obvious, when one thought about it, but it did not make watching her and her father any easier. For the fiftieth time, she silently chewed out T.J. and Damien for ducking the party. What were they thinking? Quanyu was becoming irritated by her inability to look around and not see the little blonde who had offended her, and Ted could not be inconspicuous if he were surrounded by a herd of elephants, so his nearness to the king was certain to be noticed.
"Oh, I'm sure he's forgotten about me already," Kate said now to Quanyu, adopting a laissez faire attitude. "He's probably gone back to watching the priests practicing their martial arts."
"Really?" Quanyu asked, more sharply than Kate would have expected. "I was not aware they were doing that. Where are they?"
"Just over there--" Kate pointed past her own shoulder, but when she turned, there was nothing at which to point. "Well, they were there. I wonder why they moved?"
"Come. We can look for them from the palace steps."
From that height, empty but for themselves and the guards posted just below, they had an overview of the ent
ire courtyard. There were no priests to be seen.
"Could they have gone home? Maybe they have an early wake-up call."
Quanyu shook her head. "They would not have retired without paying their respects." She stopped, staring down the length of the courtyard. "What is going on down there?"
Following her gaze, Kate saw a body of men being organized in front of the garrison. She started to feel a chill that did not come from the night air.
"Your highness, perhaps you should go inside. Where's Chang?" Despite his bulk, the silent bodyguard seemed almost invisible at times, as if he could pull the air around him like a curtain to hide behind. Kate saw him standing below, his eyes focused on the princess. She gestured him forward, and he trotted up to them immediately. "I think you should take the princess inside. Something's not right. Take her back to her room and guard her."
Quanyu spun on her. "Who do you think you are? I am the heir to the throne of Quanyu, not you. You are our guest, and I appreciate your concern, but you presume too much. Chang, stay here. I want to watch. Kate, you are excused."
Kate blinked, but there was little she could do. She descended the steps, making for Ted. At least while she was with Chang, Quanyu was as well protected as she could be. Still, she needed to talk to Ted--and maybe Hano, as well.
But by the time she reached Ted, he had already noticed the commotion caused by a number of armed men coming their way, and had pointed it out to the king, who had been speaking with General Xi and Ruyan, and was now waiting, curious and impatient, for an explanation.
The formation made its way though the crowd by sheer inertia, with people moving out of their way, parting like the Red Sea. As they approached, the soldiers fanned out, encircling the king and his companions and standing at guard. Their captain marched up to General Xi, saluted, and whispered in his ear at some length.
"With the king's permission," the general said in English, and pointed at Ted, Kate, and Sums. He gave an order in Chinese, and Kate gasped. The soldiers lowered their weapons at the Americans.
"Kate? What's going on?"
"We're under arrest! I don't know why."
The king turned on General Xi, barking questions in Mandarin. Although he could not understand them, Ted had little trouble puzzling them out. The general responded in a deferential tone, and the king demanded more answers. General Xi complied, then stepped back and indicated that the king was free to precede him. The king started walking toward the other end of the courtyard, toward the garrison, and the rest of them followed, willingly or no.
"What's going on?" Sums asked, glancing nervously at the soldiers, whose rifles were now definitely pointing in their direction.
"Apparently two white men were caught in the garrison building where they weren't supposed to be," Kate reported. Sums, who had not known she spoke Chinese, gave her a startled look, but Kate was talking to Ted anyway. "I assume it was Damien and T.J. Now the general thinks we're all part of the plot. He's bringing the king to the garrison to see them questioned."
Ted managed to turn long enough to look behind them before a couple of their guards ordered him back around.
"So why is Chang bringing Quanyu? What's she got to do with this?"
It seemed there would be no answer to that until they got to the garrison.
They were led to what appeared to be a mess hall, a dozen long tables standing side by side, and even then it was a struggle to fit everyone in. At one of the tables, four figures sat, well-guarded. Two were T.J. and Damien, and the others--
"Mother! Dad!" Heedless of the armed guards, Kate rushed to embrace her parents, who stood unsteadily to meet her, tears running down all their faces.
"Katherine!" Mrs. Reinhold sobbed. "You didn't come here all this way alone? Where is your brother?"
Kate stole a look at Damien, who shook his head slightly.
"Eric couldn't come, Mother. I'll explain it all to you later."
King Quanyu snapped a question at General Xi, but he was interrupted by a small disturbance in the doorway, as Chang ushered Quanyu into the room, Hano close behind. As they reached the king, the soldiers closed in behind, blocking the doors. The king repeated his question, but the general merely smiled and sadly shook his head.
"In case you hadn't figured it out yet," the Professor drawled, "General Xi is the man behind the coup."
Kate looked around at her friends, her parents, the royal family, and the armed soldiers.
"So what are they waiting for?"
Another flurry of noise came from the doorway, and two soldiers threw Deng Zhongshu into the room, landing on his knees. He picked himself up, brushed himself off, righted his hat, and looked around.
"Ah. I see," he said, and joined the others under guard.
"Finally," General Xi said in English. "Now we finish this."
Chapter Thirty-five
The Scent of Death
King Quanyu put a question to General Xi, a query so fraught with sorrow and confusion that it was perfectly understandable in any language.
"Let us speak English," the general replied, "so that your honored guests may understand why they are about to die. They deserve that much, since they are only here by accident.
"The Japanese, your majesty, that is why. They have invaded China, and they will invade Quanyu. That is not in question. We cannot stop them, and I vowed I would not fight a hopeless war so that you could escape into Russia with your daughter while my men died. Then the Americans came, and you were going to send Quanyu away with them. Once she was safe, you would have fought the Japanese yourself--but to the same end.
"I had a better idea, but you would not agree. We could buy our safety from the Japanese, with the secret of the Floral Death."
King Quanyu surveyed his general and soldiers with royal hauteur. "The Floral Death has kept Quanyu safe for four hundred years. In all that time, only the priests and the royal family have known the secret. I would die rather than give it to our enemies. And you men--you swore, too, to protect Quanyu with your lives! Remember your oath, and no punishment will be raised against you!"
A ripple ran through the assembled soldiers, but none spoke, or moved.
"Well said, my king, but you forget--I already have the secret of the Floral Death. I offered it to the Japanese, and they wanted proof--proof that it could be used against anyone they chose. So I sent men to the United States, to Washington, D.C., and one of my men took a job in the office of a government official--and when this woman--" he pointed at Kate--"appeared with her questions, we showed the Japanese what they wanted to know. She was meant to die then, but she did not." He paused. "Indeed, she has showed a soldier's skill in avoiding all of the traps we laid for her, but now she is caught."
"Why did you kill Captain Kuragawa?" Ted asked boldly.
The anger returned to General Xi's face. "Kuragawa was intended to negotiate with us when we were ready. But when he learned that the priests were responsible for growing the Floral Death, he sought to make a separate deal with them. It was only fitting he die in their temple. And it showed the priests that they should stay out of my business.
"That is all you need to know." He gave orders in Chinese, and his soldiers roused all of the prisoners. T.J. and Damien helped Mr. and Mrs. Reinhold to stand and walk. Fortunately, with such a crowd, it could not move much faster than they could manage, since anyone who appeared to be lagging was encouraged with a shove or a rifle butt.
No one said a word about where they were going.
The king, the princess, Kate, the boys, her parents, Sums, Deng Zhongshu, Hano, Ruyan, and Chang were all crammed into one room. Not only were they stuffed shoulder-to-shoulder, but the brilliance of the wall coverings almost seemed to hurt their eyes like bright sunlight, and the gaily-colorful painted flowers made a mockery of their plight. Only a lone screen set against one wall gave any relief from the garish brightness. The men tried to give the women some room, but the space forced an intimacy of contact that could not be avoide
d.
General Xi stood in the doorway. He seemed to be waiting for something. "I apologize for the discomfort. It will not last long."
Damien felt himself being jostled, and suddenly there was a whisper in his ear.
"Get ready."
In the press, there was no way to know who had whispered to him, but he nodded. He reached into a certain pocket and his hand closed around a small vial, but before he could do more, Deng Zhongshu separated himself from the pack and confronted General Xi in the doorway.
"General! Before you kill us, there is something you should know. I know the secret of the Floral Death."
The general glanced down at the old scholar with contempt. "You will dead in a few minutes. Why do I care what you know?"
"Because I found it in the library in the palace. And I found something else: the way to protect yourself from it! I know about the suits and the protective hats! I can tell you how to protect yourself from the Floral Death without them!"
"Then protect yourself," the general told him, and shut the door.
"There is a way!" Deng Zhongshu whined to the room, but the others merely watched him sadly.
"Lot of good it does us now," Sums grumbled.
"He's right," Damien said suddenly, and everyone froze. "I have it here." He held up the small vial he had felt for in his pocket.
A voice boomed from the wall, behind the screen. "Now! You have your orders! Take it from him!"
Chang surged forward, knocking the others aside, and snatched the vial from Damien's hand, fighting his way back toward the door like a man breasting a high surf, while Quanyu's shriek of surprise echoed from the walls.
"No!" The cry came from Deng Zhongshu, putting himself firmly between Chang and the door. "I found the secret! You have to let me go!"
Chang tried to bull his way past, but with so little space and one hand wrapped around the vial, the little old man proved impossible to budge. He had propped himself against the door, and with the traitorous Chang pushing from the inside, the soldiers without could not get in. Ted and Sums and Hano were trying to reach him, but they had been caught on the other side of the room, and everyone was jostling everyone else in a panic.
The Scent of Death Page 17