Poor Prince Gong must have received even more of a residual wave, because he let out a high-pitched cry and shook on top of her. She heaved him toward the side, using the shaking of his body to help her get him sliding. He was still a heavy weight on her skirts, pinning her to the floor, but at least she could sit up enough to see.
A black-garbed man lay sprawled on the floor, his arms and legs broken and twisted beneath him. Even his midsection looked odd and misshapen, as though his internal organs and bones had been shifted to unnatural positions. She turned her attention to Prince Gong’s injuries. He had two puncture marks in his back. Tugging on her skirts, she scrambled out from beneath him and retrieved the scanner so she could determine the depth of the wounds. If a major artery had been damaged, she’d only have a few minutes to help him.
A woman’s scream turned her head. Princess Rong’an rushed toward them, falling to her knees beside him. She lifted his head into her lap and stroked his cheek. Moaning softly, she rocked him. “Yixin, oh Yixin. Not you.”
Guilt if she’d ever seen it. Charlotte turned her attention back to the man’s wounds, even though she could feel the stab of the woman’s accusing eyes.
“Good news, Your Highness. As long as you don’t develop infection, I believe your injuries will heal quite nicely with some stitches. My dear, could you call for one of the Imperial Physicians?”
The young woman glared at her but grudgingly set the wounded man aside and rose. “Of course. I’ll be back, Yixin.”
He sighed, a shallow, wet sound. “How bad is it really?”
“One of your lungs has been punctured and it’s filling up with blood. You’re going to drown if we don’t get the bleeding stopped.” She spilled the contents of her reticule out on the floor. She never went about without some bio-bandage. “I can heal the injuries with my invention, but there are risks.”
“Do it, please. I’m not prepared to die yet.”
She tore open his silks a little more to bare unmarred flesh and pressed her locket to his back. No sense in getting blood on it. “Lie very still a moment. I need my datapad.”
Crawling over to it, she prayed it wasn’t broken from the fall or the sound wave. The metal housing was dented on one corner, but the datapad fired up at her command. Quickly, she opened the nanobot programming, downloaded the scanner detail of his injuries and typed in the commands for them to attack the bleeding in his lung. Then she closed the puncture wounds with bio-band. Her nanobots would destroy any foreign particles that had already entered his body, and as long as the bleeding stopped in time, he ought to recover very well.
As long as her nanobots didn’t decide to enhance or attack the nonhuman DNA he already carried.
His breathing was erratic, surely from pain and shock. “I’m sorry I don’t have any boosters for pain. I didn’t think you would allow me to bring my full pharmacy inside Xuanyuan.”
“I wouldn’t have,” he agreed.
Trying to keep his mind off the pain until the physicians arrived, she changed the subject back to the core of her research. “Didn’t a dragon make an appearance when the Xianfeng Emperor took the Dragon Throne?”
He coughed a little, groaning at the pain, although it didn’t sound quite as wet and heavy as before. “Not that I ever heard tales of, and believe me, if the tale could have been told and enlarged to equate him with the Yellow Emperor, even in the slightest, we’d all have heard the story.”
She frowned, trying to think why the young maid had been so alarmed about the dragon reference. Enough that she’d taken her own life as a result.
He sighed. “I might as well admit that I’m the one who bugged your room, though to my great displeasure, we were unable to gain anything of use. So when I tell you that the Dowager Empress has slightly misled you, hopefully you will believe me.”
“No head of security worth his salt would neglect to bug a foreigner’s room,” she said grudgingly. “And I’m not surprised in the slightest that Cixi might not have been as forthcoming as she pretends.”
“She doesn’t want you to heal the old dragon, not exactly. In the Dragon Procession tomorrow, the Emperor will try to wake the last dragon egg.”
Of course. No wonder Cixi was so desperate. She’d mentioned the procession, but certainly not this awakening of the egg. “So she’s hoping that I’ll reveal something in my research that will enable the egg to hatch, giving Zijin a true Dragon Emperor. You said try to wake the egg. I take it that the recent attempts haven’t been successful?”
“They haven’t been successful since before the Ming dynasty. We haven’t had a dragon in the skies for so many years that people have ceased to believe in them. In fact, we only have one last egg, and many people believe it’s merely a stone a prior desperate Emperor had crafted, relegating the histories to even greater fabrications. Even I don’t believe all the stories I’ve been told through the years, and I’m part of the Imperial family.”
She scanned his vitals again, pleased to see that the internal bleeding had stopped. She typed in the next commands, calling the majority of the nanobots back to the locket. She didn’t need to leave many inside him, for fear they’d cause too many changes in him that couldn’t be explained. Yet she needed to make sure a few remained to fight any resulting infection.
“They’re even starting to call for a sacrifice.”
Surprised, she pulled her attention back to his story. “A sacrifice? Like giving a maiden to the dragon to appease his hunger?”
Prince Gong laughed and it definitely sounded better without pain. “Nothing like that. No, there are a few cases in our records from many hundreds of years ago where someone sacrificed his own life so that the dragon egg would hatch.”
How could someone’s death make an egg hatch? Her scientific mind refused to believe such a far-fetched tale. It stunk of Imperial magic and fable, not biology. But it certainly didn’t bode well for the current Emperor—or someone else in the royal family—with the infamous Lord Regret in residence. She hadn’t spoken to him on the matter, but she was certain the Emperor would be his mark.
Someone might be hoping that his sacrifice would spark the life inside the dragon egg. Who, then, would rule? Prince Gong was the likely choice, but he’d already vowed to never rule. Would the people accept a female at the helm of the empire?
They’d already given Cixi and Ci’an more power than any other Empress.
Running footsteps sounded the arrival of help, even though Prince Gong was no longer in danger. She pushed to her feet and backed away, making room for the dozens of attendants and physicians rushing to his aid. Princess Rong’an stood to one side, her gaze locked on the prince. Charlotte narrowed her gaze, watching the young woman. She wrung her hands and stared at him with fervent determination. Such emotion didn’t seem to be familial at all, but rather a young woman’s devotion to her lover.
Prince Gong saw the way the young woman looked at him and turned his face aside. So the tender emotion wasn’t shared. He was her uncle first, although such relationships weren’t as frowned upon when kept within the royal family. Plus, he was also twenty years older than her. He probably saw her as a much younger sister, not a marriageable woman.
Beware a woman scorned.
The attendants carefully moved the injured man onto a low couch and carried him away, leaving the two ladies. Charlotte smiled at the younger woman. “I’m so glad you happened to come along when you did. This part of the palace seemed too remote and I was beginning to fear I’d die here.”
Princess Rong’an’s eyes flashed, as though she’d thought, I wish. “I often walk this way.”
“In the hopes of just happening to run into Prince Gong.”
She shrugged. “Uncle is kind to me. He listens to me, really listens, as if my opinions matter. Most importantly, he’s not busy trying to marry me off to cement First Brother’s claim to the throne.”
“It must be difficult to be a young lady of royal blood here.”
“Y
ou have no idea,” Princess Rong’an said bitterly. “My only use is what ally I can win for the Emperor. It doesn’t matter whether I’ll be happy or not. I’m a tool, nothing more.”
“What would make you happy?”
The young woman blinked, staring at her in stunned silence.
“No one has asked you that before?” Charlotte packed up the last of her equipment and headed down the hallway in the same direction they’d been traveling before the attack, even though she had no idea where they actually were in the enormous, floating Forbidden City. “Let me give you a piece of advice, then. Know the one thing that you must have to be happy, and then strive for it against all else.”
“I am,” Princess Rong’an whispered. “I’m striving against everything. Even you.”
Charlotte didn’t try to hide the pleased smile. Bingo. She was behind the assassination attempts. But why? To prevent Charlotte from helping Cixi? Would the princess actually dare hire Lord Regret to assassinate her own brother? “As an outsider, I’m curious. Please don’t take offense, but do you think your brother is a good Emperor?”
“He’s my brother.” Princess Rong’an shrugged but kept her head averted, hiding behind the long black curtain of her hair. “I have absolutely no say in the succession.”
“It just seems…strange to me. That an older, intelligent, imminently qualified man like Prince Gong is passed over for a…child. I mean, the Tongzhi Emperor was very young when he took the throne, wasn’t he?”
“He was five.”
The short answers and tight tone told Charlotte the young woman was near the breaking point. Her frustration and anger were held tightly in check. She’d been forced to hold her tongue, with no say in the important matters, as she said. No say, even, in whom she would marry.
Charlotte tried to put herself in the young woman’s shoes: Young, hopelessly in love and completely powerless. If she’d seen the opportunity to act, would she have taken her chances, even through bloody means?
Absolutely.
“I suppose his youth is the very reason the Dowager Empresses were able to build their own powerful coalition to keep the throne.”
Princess Rong’an’s lips curved in a sneer. “They’re the power behind the throne. Not Zaichun. He’s nothing but a puppet for Cixi.”
“That’s Dowager Empress Cixi to you.”
Princess Rong’an whirled around, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as though she could stop the traitorous words, but it was too late. Cixi smiled, the cold, hard smile of a woman in power, who intended to keep that power at any cost.
The young woman muttered, “Forgive me, Your Majesty,” bowed low, and then scurried away without a glance back.
Charlotte met the Dowager Empress’s gaze without flinching. She can’t intimidate me, not when I’m well used to Majel’s cutting gaze, because I taught it to her.
“I hear you had some excitement this afternoon.” Cixi swept a hand at Charlotte’s gown, indicating the blood splattered on her skirts. “I hope you’re well.”
“Never better,” Charlotte replied breezily, noting that she didn’t ask about Prince Gong’s health. Either she considered him a casualty either way, or she simply didn’t care. She probably already knew exactly who was trying to kill Charlotte. Before she learned their secrets…or to keep her from healing the Emperor? “In fact, I’m ready to do a little experiment with your…guest…if you care to take me to it again.”
“Of course. So you’ve had a breakthrough?”
“Perhaps.” Charlotte kept her theories close for now. Cixi was the kind of woman who’d dispose of them if she decided they weren’t of further use, and Lord Regret still had business to accomplish. “As I said, I need to try an experiment or two to be sure.”
They made the trek to the secret dragon cave in silence. In her head, Charlotte could almost hear a ticking clock. Time was running out for everyone. The young Emperor would die soon. His procession was tomorrow with no hope of a dragon. Even if this experiment confirmed her suspicions, did she want Cixi to know? Or would it only cement her determination to use any and everyone to keep her son in power?
Of course there was the danger, too, that even if Cixi received exactly what she wanted, she might immediately dispatch the foreign guests who’d made such discoveries in order to keep the secrets buried for all time. Not to mention the bugs in the Xuanyuan mainframe. For all she knew, Majel had already dispatched a few warships to assimilate Zijin. Even worse, once the Queen discovered that her bugs had been eliminated, she might leap to the conclusion that only one person might have been able to discover those secret data miners buried deep in the electronic housing and programming.
If Majel discovered their whereabouts, would she decide to assimilate them sooner than later? Or would she spare them awhile, as she’d done to Americus?
As soon as they walked into the dragon cave, she’d been half afraid the scent of blood might rouse the beast. But it continued to sleep without movement, appearing to be a stone statute except for the slight fluttering of its sides. Blood gave her an idea, though. What always came with sacrifice?
She ripped a small, bloodstained corner from her skirt and waved the strip beneath the dragon’s nose to no avail.
Perhaps it needed fresh blood to awaken. Prince Gong’s blood had already dried into the silk, staining it a dark rusty-brown. Retrieving the fan, she extended the blade again and lightly pricked her thumb. She even allowed blood to drop onto the beast’s muzzle, fearing it might jolt awake and swallow her whole. But it didn’t even twitch.
She spared a glance at Cixi, surprised to see that she wasn’t even watching. Instead, she casually read the ancient journal, flipping through the pages and stroking the elegant script and diagrams with her long, elegant fingers. Cool disinterest to throw Charlotte off guard? Or sincere disregard for the outcome? Because she already knew, or at least suspected, what would awaken the beast. Then why have her do these studies? To prove it scientifically? To find some other alternative?
Her head ached and she sorely wanted a cup of tea. It’d been too long since she’d had to deal with the constant myriad details of court intrigue. She might be making this more complicated than even Cixi intended. Perhaps she simply placed such trust in Charlotte’s abilities that she had no concern whatsoever that she’d fail to discover the secret to waking the dragon and healing her son in one fell blow.
Distracted, she dropped the slip of material from her gown. It fluttered down to land on the dragon’s stone-cold hide. The scales rippled, the first sign of movement that she’d seen. Excited, she scanned the area, recording the minute changes happening at the molecular level. Proteins in Prince Gong’s blood activated the dragon cells. It was like a call from the wild, a bugle to awake.
And the necessary proteins were only in his alien DNA.
“It’s as I feared, isn’t it.” Cixi came to stand beside her, staring down at the shimmering scales where blood had sparked life. “An Imperial sacrifice is going to be needed.”
“Not just any blood will do,” Charlotte agreed softly. “There are components in the Imperial line that aren’t human, but dragon.”
Cixi laughed mirthlessly. “So all those crazy tales about the Yellow Emperor are true. He really did take a dragon for his Empress.”
“Evidently, yes. It’s very rare for interspecies breeding to work, but it has in your Imperial line, though the dragon DNA is extremely thin now.”
She blew out a low, soft sigh. “The dragons have been gone for centuries, dying in wars, of sickness or loss of habitat. And this poor creature…”
“It would take a great deal of Imperial blood to rouse it, and it’s already so ancient I don’t know that it could fly.” Deliberately, Charlotte didn’t mention the dragon egg as a test, waiting to see if Cixi would explain why she needed an answer before tomorrow’s procession.
“There are some who believe my son should sacrifice himself for the good of our people.” Cixi turned away and put
the leather-bound book back on its pedestal. Then she headed toward the exit, pausing at the door and waiting for Charlotte to join her. “He’s been ineffective as a ruler, mostly because he battles me to prove his independence.”
Charlotte gathered her things and moved to join her, but took a moment to examine the Imperial journal. Elegant swirling scripts marched down the pages, more artwork than simple writing. She had no hope of reading it to see what other secrets Cixi might have neglected to mention.
Then Charlotte noticed the cover. She touched the tear-shaped impressions that had not been placed there by a craftsman.
Dragon hide.
A relative, some rebellious Imperial second son or brother, who rose up against the Emperor? Or one of the alien dragon cousins that had since died out?
She suppressed a shudder. Majel would have pinned the entire hide of a traitor to the wall behind her throne so everyone could admire it and know her wrath.
“Sacrifice to what, Your Majesty? I don’t believe every drop of blood in your son’s body could save this dragon, so it’d be a senseless loss.”
Cixi smiled. “Exactly. Senseless. But you know how commoners love to protest and demand change from the ruling family, even when they don’t understand the implications. Well, thank you for trying, my lady. You’ve certainly shed some interesting light on our ancient family secrets. Secrets I hope I can trust you to keep.”
“Of course,” Charlotte said smoothly, returning the woman’s smile with her own steely grin of determination. “I’ve been entrusted with even greater secrets than this, I assure you, Your Majesty. I suppose it’s time for our wonderful visit to end.”
“You must stay for the Imperial procession tomorrow.” The Empress gripped her arm firmly, her nails digging into her skin. “It’s magnificent and I’m sure you’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Your Majesty. I’ve enjoyed many royal displays of power in my time.”
“I insist. You must allow us to entertain you. It’s the only way I can pay you back for your research.”
Charlotte inclined her head, even though her mind was already racing. Tomorrow was the day. Cixi wasn’t the kind of ruler who’d let foreigners escape the net with Imperial secrets. Who had she ordered Lord Regret to kill for the sacrifice? It would certainly be poetic justice if she wants him to kill whoever tried to have her son assassinated.
Lord Regret's Price: A Jane Austen Space Opera, Book 3 Page 18