by Lisa Morton
Only then had Antonia clearly seen the thing: It was one of the missing Hinton ship captains. He still wore the company uniform, but tattered and stained; even his hat was in place.
But there was no hint of humanity whatsoever in that face; it was pale and withered, the eyes were shrunken, fallen in, and the lids had wrinkled shut around them. And yet even apparently sightless, the thing (for it was surely not human) had sought them, hands extended, clawing as they leapt back in shock. The man with the knife withdrew his weapon, plainly expecting his foe to fall—and instead the thing fell on him. The hands, with nails that seemed impossibly long, clutched at his throat and drove him back against a crate. The poor man grappled in vain, but his strong, heavy fingers were unable to pry off his assailant’s deadly grip.
Antonia had fired her pistol then, and a large section of the captain’s uniform blew away, but the thing was otherwise unfazed. It completed its horrible task of killing the man it held with a clean wrench of his neck, then it turned its hideous visage on Antonia and hopped towards her—not walked or ran, but rather hopped.
One hop—two hops—and the nightmarish creature was nearly upon her when one of the crewmen intervened, swinging a long knife up and bringing it down, so that he cleaved one of its arms off. It turned towards him and he backed away, beckoning it. The man had clearly gone mad.
Antonia had sensed movement behind her and turned to see another of the creatures. He still wore the elegant, embroidered silk robes he had favored, and the western-style patent leather boots. But, like the other monster that was once a ship’s captain, this thing was also long dead, desiccated and wan, and hopping in that preposterous but terrible fashion. It accomplished a leap which took it ten feet forward and into the knot of the men; it slit one’s throat with its talon-like nails and turned to another man who was screaming; screaming in a way that a man—especially an armed and trained man—should never be able to.
The horrors had continued, as Antonia sensed something else there, something in the dark, atop a pile of crates set against a far wall. In the shadows, she saw eyes that gleamed red like hellfire coals, and as this ultimate monstrosity had swooped down to fix on a newly-slit throat, she’d fled. Preoccupied with their feast, the monsters had allowed Antonia to escape.
She made it alive to the streets and ran blindly in the direction of the Althea. It was late, and the streets were empty. She passed only three astonished British guards, one of whom accompanied her back to the ship. It was only then that she realized—she was the only one to return from the docks. All six of the crewmen were undoubtedly dead—or worse.
Antonia knew she would spend the rest of her life not only reliving that horror, but believing that she had been at least partly responsible for the deaths of six dedicated men—
Antonia slept again after breakfast, and Diana spent the next few hours in thought. William’s journal had recounted the attack by a group of vampires, and yet all the folklore of past vampires described them as single predators, creatures that moved alone under the shadow of night. Now they were converging in packs? Like the alliance of the Thuggees with Kali, hunting packs of vampires presented a terrible new challenge in regards to the gateways—and it wasn’t something Diana wanted to face.
At least she now knew the precise location of the Canton gateway.
In the afternoon, Antonia seemed more composed and Diana asked her the question that had been troubling her for hours. “Antonia, did you take Yi-kin—Thomas—with you to the godown?”
Antonia shook her head. “No. He was on leave, visiting friends in the city.”
“Thank heavens.”
Antonia suddenly understood why Diana had asked about her Chinese friend. “Diana, you mustn’t go there—!”
“I know you feel that way right now, Antonia, but it’s why I came—”
Antonia cut her off again, urgently. “Why you came doesn’t matter. Just promise me you won’t go there, Diana—please!”
Diana looked into her friend’s eyes for a moment, then finally said, “I’m sorry, Antonia, I can’t promise that. I have to go. And I can destroy these things. Isn’t that what we all want?”
Antonia stared at her in disbelief. “You can’t kill these things, Diana. I saw them murder six strong men—they tore them apart as if they were paper dolls! I know your life isn’t ordinary, that you have seen things the rest of us don’t even know exist…but you can’t stop these things. You can’t.”
Diana opened her mouth to answer—and found she couldn’t.
Chapter XV
May 26, 1880
Canton, China
Had Diana needed any confirmation of Antonia’s story, she received it later that day, when the body of the one of the vanished sailors was found floating in the river near the docks. He was hauled aboard a Chinese fishing junk, identified by his western garb, and turned over to the British authorities. The Hinton Company was notified shortly thereafter.
Diana had arranged for a local practitioner of western medicine to give Antonia something to calm her nerves, and when she awakened the following morning she seemed much improved. She was pale and drawn, but anxious to proceed with Hinton Company business.
Together they went to the offices of the British consul, where they viewed the body. Diana experienced a small thrill of recognition upon seeing that the man had plainly been drained of all blood. His skin was so white it nearly shone, and seemed to have lost some of its elasticity. While Antonia went over paperwork with the officials, Diana examined the dead man’s neck, then wrists, hoping to find the signs of the traditional vampire, but the corpse was curiously free of any puncture or bite wounds. The Chinese fisherman who had brought the body was still present, and murmured the same phrase (kap-huet goong-see) which Yi-kin had told Diana translated to something like “blood-breathing corpse.”
She was quiet after they left the consul, mulling over the meaning of the bite-less body. Was this a trait peculiar to the Chinese vampire, or was this a completely different form of revenant altogether? And if it was not a traditional vampire, would she know how to fight it? Would a crucifix or holy water affect a creature that had probably never even heard of Christianity?
It was mid-day when they returned to the Hinton Company offices, and Diana was about to bid her friend farewell (she was anxious to return to her room and go over The Book of Gateways, Conjurations and Banishments for any hints on dealing with this new menace), when a clerk entered the office and announced that a Chinese priest of some sort had requested a word. Curious, Diana asked if she might stay for this audience, and Antonia assured her that she would very much like her present.
The clerk returned shortly with a most curious personage: The man admitted into the office was Chinese, middle-aged, wearing a somewhat garish yellow robe emblazoned with exotic signs and symbols, and a tall black hat likewise ornamented. He bowed to the two women, and began to speak in Cantonese. Antonia motioned for him to pause, then called for an interpreter. A few moments later Yi-kin entered, and gaped briefly at the sight of the yellow-robed man before bowing to him and exchanging a few words.
They soon found they were in the presence of one “Master Li,” a highly-skilled practitioner (actually Yi-kin used the word sage) of the local religion known as Taoism; he claimed to come from “the mountains,” and had been sent for by the terrified Cantonese. Master Li assured them he was skilled at dealing with monsters, including that known locally as the kap-huet goong-si. He stated that only a Taoist master such as himself could seize this kind of monster, and return it safely to Hell.
Antonia listened politely, but then cautioned him, “There’s more than one monster at work here.”
Yi-kin translated, listened to the Taoist’s reply, and then told them, “He say that what you see is only the goong-si servants. The kap-huet goong-si turns people into goong-si—”
“Those were the hopping predators I saw?” asked Antonia.
Yi-kin puzzled over her words for a moment,
then turned to Diana helplessly. “Hopping,” Diana said, then explained by hopping two fingers across Antonia’s desk.
Yi-kin brightened. “Yes, hopping! That is goong-si.”
The sage said something else, and after a moment Yi-kin relayed the message: “Master Li say these are easy to control. He say he can stop them and bury them with proper…uh…feng shui.”
“What is feng shui, Thomas?” Antonia asked.
“Meaning is…very hard…like…correct way to place things….”
Yi-kin finally shrugged and threw up his hands helplessly.
Master Li added something else, then waited impassively. Yi-kin’s jaw dropped at whatever had just been said, then he turned back to Antonia. “He say he want five hundred pounds to clean out goong-si.”
Antonia burst out laughing.
“Are you sure you translated that correctly, Thomas? Because otherwise the man is surely mad. Five hundred pounds is a small fortune!”
Yi-kin reddened, and addressed a question to the Taoist. To Diana, it sounded something like, “Nei jaan yiu pounds ng baak ma?”
The Taoist merely nodded, impassive as ever.
Antonia smirked. “I’m sorry, but I know when I’m being hoodwinked. Please show him out, Thomas.”
Diana started to object, but Master Li had clearly understood both Antonia’s tone and expression; he bowed and turned to go.
“Wait, please,” Diana blurted out, before turning to Antonia. “He might be useful to us—”
“Please, Diana. He is clearly a charlatan. Have you ever heard of a genuinely religious man demanding such a sum?”
Diana knew she had, but didn’t bother to tell that to her friend.
Yi-kin was looking guilt-stricken, and fortunately Antonia noticed. “Thomas, no need to translate any of that. Just show him out, please.”
Yi-kin bowed and gestured towards the door, but the movement was unnecessary, since Master Li was already halfway out the door.
Diana considered for a moment, then jogged out after him. She caught up to him in the hallway outside, and threw out a Cantonese plea, hoping she didn’t mangle the words too badly. “M’goi, cheng dang.”
Master Li turned to her with one eyebrow raised in amusement. She’d made some kind of point, at least.
Diana turned urgently to Yi-kin. “Please, tell Master Li that I’ll gladly pay him the sum he asks.”
Yi-kin’s eyes widened, then he recovered and relayed the information. Master Li uttered a few words, offered a bow to Diana, and then turned and walked away.
“Yi-kin,” Diana said, disappointed, “what happened? Why did he walk out?”
“He say good. He say at two p.m. today go to dock.”
“Oh!”
Diana returned to Antonia’s office, who seemed to have already forgotten the matter, as she was now poring over a sheaf of documents. “Well?” she asked without looking up.
“I’ve hired Master Li instead.”
“It’s your money, I suppose, but I think you’ve just spent it foolishly. After all, you said you’ve slain vampires, so even if he was genuine, what could he do that you couldn’t?”
Save my life, thought Diana.
A few moments later, she found Yi-kin in conversation with several other Chinese workers in a storage room behind Antonia’s office. As soon as he spotted her, Yi-kin excused himself from the other men and joined her.
“Yi-kin, I need to talk to you very seriously.”
They moved off to a quiet corner, standing near a dusty window that let in some of the hazy midmorning sunshine. “You know why I made this trip,” Diana said to the young man.
He nodded. “To fight goong-si.”
“Yes,” Diana said. “And I intend to be at those docks today with Master Li to do just that.”
“I go, too,” Yi-kin said.
“There’s something you may not know, though, Yi-kin. Miss Hinton went to the docks with six crewmen—”
“—and they all die there. I do know,” Yi-kin finished.
Antonia gaped for a moment, “How?”
“Everybody here know that. Sailors leave with Miss Hinton; they do not come back. They find one dead in water.”
“Yes.”
“Miss Hinton see goong-si?”
“Yes,” Diana said, then hesitated before adding, “There’s more than one.”
He nodded soberly.
“Yi-kin,” Diana said, “do you think Master Li was genuine? Could he stop the goong-si?”
Yi-kin looked away, then answered softly, “Maybe. Taoists are very strange. They know many strange thing.”
Diana realized she knew too little about the religions of China, and virtually nothing about Taoism. “Do you know much about what they believe?”
“I know little. They believe in many, many gods. They believe in eight immortals. Taoists believe Heaven and Hell have generals and they sometimes pray to them. They believe they can live always.”
“Yes, immortality,” Diana nodded. “I think all religions believe in that—”
“But Taoists are different. They believe body can live always, not just….”
“Spirit,” Diana filled in.
“Yes,” Yi-kin affirmed.
Physical immortality, Diana thought. You’d think that would be easy to prove, wouldn’t you? Perhaps the man is just a charlatan, after all.
“Well, I haven’t paid him yet. If he is lying and can’t stop them—” Diana broke off, realizing the next part of the sentence would have run, then I probably won’t be alive to pay him.
“You should not go to dock,” Yi-kin said, having evidently surmised her thought.
“I have to. I have to close the gateway, for one thing.”
And I need to see Master Li slay the goong-si with my own eyes, especially if I’m paying him, she thought. Instead she said:
“But you do not need to accompany me, Yi-kin. This will be far more dangerous than what we faced in Calcutta.”
“Badder than Thuggees and Kali?”
“Not ‘badder,’ Yi-kin; in English we say ‘worse.’ And…well…I didn’t know we’d be facing Kali and the Thuggees, or I would never have had you join me.”
Yi-kin considered that for a moment, “Worse. I remember that.”
“Yi-kin,” Diana said with more anger than she wanted just then, “do you understand what I’m saying to you?”
“Use worse, not badder. Also, at docks we maybe die and become goong-si ourselves.”
Diana blinked for a moment, then stammered, “Very well, you do understand. I suppose I don’t need to give you the speech then, about how you really shouldn’t come…?”
“Like we say in Cantonese, Miss Diana—m sai.”
“Not necessary,” Diana translated.
“Correct.”
Diana had already told Antonia of what she planned to do, and so they took only enough time for Yi-kin to jot a quick letter before leaving the Hinton Company. Yi-kin told Diana the letter was for his sister, Leung Mei-yi, who lived in Shanghai and who had spirited him away after their parents had been murdered. The letter was to be mailed to her in the event of his death. Yi-kin also changed out of his uniform into local clothing, reasoning that it would be easier for them to move through Canton if he didn’t look like a British sailor.
Diana seized on Yi-kin’s cast-off uniform, and left her young friend quite proud when she reappeared in it a few moments later. With her hair tucked up and the cap pulled down low over her face, she thought she could pass for a man, and hoped the uniform would both disguise her gender more successfully and ease any fighting that she might be forced to engage in. Next, she gathered up supplies: She felt fairly sure that the weapons purported to work against the western vampires—garlic, crucifixes, holy water—would prove useless against the goong-si, and she assumed Master Li would have his own arsenal; but she hoped that other traditional demon-fighting tools—sprigs of rowan and ash, rosemary, an iron-bladed knife—would work. She also packed th
e copy of The Book and, of course, Mina, who seemed to meow her approval as Diana placed her in the traveling bag.
At slightly past noon she met Yi-kin at the Shameen bridge, and they proceeded towards the river. Canton was famous for its temples (it contained over eight hundred in its mere six-mile circumference), and their route took them past one in particular that gave Yi-kin pause. Like most everything else in Canton, the temple—which had once been glorious and ornate, with its curving roof and heavy blocks of stone and gilt trim—now seemed somewhat rundown.
“What is it?” Diana asked.
“Temple of Five Genii. These were five men who start Canton. They ride here on rams, and say they will always protect us. I want to go in.”
“Then do, please,” Diana told him, thinking it probably wasn’t a bad idea.
They passed through an outer courtyard, filled with lovely blossoming jasmine and cherry trees, and the sweet aroma of petals and incense wafted around them. Diana was suddenly glad they’d made this detour; she felt her spirits both soothed and emboldened by the lovely scents.
They walked up a short run of wide steps and in through the temple entrance. Immediately ahead were five colossal statues, each seated, each with an upraised right hand offering benediction. The temple was quiet at the moment, although there were a few other supplicants bowed near the altar before the statues, and Diana caught a glimpse of a priest off in the shadows to the side.
She waited near the entrance, and watched as Yi-kin stepped forward, took three joss sticks from a large container, lit them and then bowed three times to the five figures. After a moment of silent prayer he placed the smoking sticks in a large sand-filled pot, bowed again and then reached for a long bamboo cylinder in front of him. He shook the cylinder vigorously, then tilted it downward, and Diana saw that it contained long, thin strips of wood. Yi-kin grasped the one that had slid out the farthest, then returned the cylinder to its place.
He took the strip of wood to a man seated near the entrance. The man examined the strip for quite some time, then turned to Yi-kin and spoke to him in low tones. Yi-kin listened, then dropped some coins in a plate near the man and rejoined Diana and Mina.