The Ruined City

by John Wilson

  “Is that black cat yours?” the receptionist asked Cate. “We don’t allow pets in here.”

  “Heimao’s not a pet,” Cate replied, “and she wouldn’t have come in here if I didn’t ask her to.”

  “Well, she did,” the receptionist answered. “One of the doctors was heading home, and she shot in the instant he opened the door.”

  Cate looked seriously puzzled. “Where did she go?”

  “Headed straight up the steps to the reading room. She was too quick for me, and I can’t leave my desk, so you’d better go up and get her. Here, I’ll write down the code for the door.”

  By the time the receptionist had finished speaking, Cate was already halfway to the stairs. Howard was at her heels. In the reading room, they found Heimao curled on the central desk and being stroked by Aileen.

  “What happened?” Cate asked.

  “She came in here like devils were chasing her,” Aileen explained, “and then jumped on the desk and settled down as if she’d always lived here.”

  “I’m sorry. This isn’t like her.”

  “No problem. We’re close friends now. We’ve had a good conversation, haven’t we, Heimao?”

  “How do you know her name?” asked Howard.

  Aileen’s smile broadened. “It just seemed right. How was the visit with your dad?”

  “Encouraging. He seems to be responding more.”

  “Any change is good, I understand,” Aileen said. “You were here a long time.”

  “We went down to the basement,” Cate said. Howard tensed, thinking she was going to tell Aileen about his fit, but she merely said, “We met the creepy janitor.”

  “Creepy janitor?” Aileen looked puzzled. “Admittedly, Jim’s got a strange sense of humor, but we excuse that because he’s Scottish. I don’t think anyone would call him creepy. But that’s weird—he doesn’t usually work Fridays.”

  “What does Jim look like?” Cate asked.

  “Short ginger hair, a bit overweight.”

  “Maybe we saw his assistant?” Howard suggested. “A tall, pale Chinese guy?”

  Aileen stared at him. She looked worried. “Jim doesn’t have an assistant, Chinese or otherwise. Not a huge staff here, and as far as I know, I’m the only one you could mistake for Chinese.”

  “You saw him too, right?” Howard asked, turning to Cate, but she was already on her way to the stairs to the basement.

  Heimao jumped off the desk and followed her.

  Howard looked back at Aileen in confusion. “Excuse me. I’ve got to go now,” he mumbled and set off after Cate.

  The two hurried down the steps to the basement. Howard was nervous at returning to the scene of his incident, and he jumped again as the overhead lights came on with the same unsettling flash. The basement corridor was exactly as he remembered it, but the door at the end was closed. Howard ran down the corridor, turned the handle and pulled open the door. The light from the corridor illuminated a boiler and a mass of pipes and electrical lines.

  “What’s going on?” he asked Cate. “There’s no one here. The Chinese man wasn’t just a part of my nightmare. You saw him too, right?”

  Cate stood at the far end of the corridor. “I saw him too,” she replied.

  “How can that be? What’s happening?” Howard said as he rejoined her.

  “I’m not sure. I need to think.”

  Not certain he liked the things Cate thought about, Howard followed her up the stairs and out into the night.

  SANXINGDUI

  ESCAPE

  As the sun rose above the mountains behind him, Chen got his first good look at the Ma Zhang camp. It was much larger than he had expected—a vast, sprawling mass of colored tents, banners and piles of weapons, alive with busy warriors cooking over open fires, fetching water from the river and loading equipment into high-sided two-wheeled carts.

  Chen couldn’t see how Sanxingdui’s army had a chance against such a horde, but that was not what made him gasp in shock. To one side of the camp, hundreds of horses stood in long lines, tethered to ropes strung between posts driven into the ground. They were restless, moving like a single strange creature. In the still, cold morning air, Chen could hear them snorting and stamping, and he could see the steam rising from their nostrils.

  Chen had heard of horses. He had even seen a couple that had been captured when the Ma Zhang attempted a small raid across the mountains. But he had never dreamed of numbers like this. It was said that horses were very fast and could carry a warrior great distances in a single day. They were also faster and more efficient at hauling wagons than the placid, plodding oxen that the farmers and traders around Sanxingdui used. An army mounted on these beasts would be unbeatable.

  Worse, the idea behind Chen’s spying mission was that if he headed back to Sanxingdui as soon as he saw the tribal army getting ready to cross the mountains, he would travel much faster and be able to give the emperor plenty of warning of the enemy’s approach. That would not be the case, however, if the soldiers were on horseback. They would overtake a boy on foot in a few hours, and he would never get home in time.

  Chen had no idea how he could overcome this problem, but he was determined not to let it prevent him from carrying out the task he had set himself—to rescue Ting and Fu. That part of his plan had called for sneaking into the camp at night, but it didn’t seem as if even that would work. Judging by the activity below, the army was preparing to move that very day.

  For a moment Chen considered turning around and heading back to Sanxingdui as fast as possible, but he soon discarded that idea too. He would never get there in time, and besides, he couldn’t leave Ting behind. Glad that he had swapped his servant’s clothing for nondescript peasant’s clothes, Chen headed down the hill.

  Everyone was busy loading wagons and taking down tents, so no one gave a second glance to the scruffy peasant boy heading for the center of the camp. A couple of soldiers shouted at Chen as he passed. He didn’t understand their coarse dialect, but it was obvious they were ordering him to help them load a cart. Chen kept going, waving his satchel at them and pointing ahead as if he were in the middle of performing some important task.

  Chen was nearing the center of the camp and wondering how he was going to find Ting when a soldier shouted, “You, boy. Come over here. I’ve got a job for you.”

  Chen was so surprised to hear someone shout something he understood that he stopped. “I have an important message to deliver,” he said.

  “Never mind about that.”

  A hand grabbed the collar of Chen’s grubby shirt and dragged him to one side. The man pointed at a cage sitting on the ground. In the middle sat a forlorn, bedraggled Fu.

  “I’ve been looking after this stupid brute for ten days. To tell the truth, I’d have dropped it down a well long ago if anyone other than Shenxian had told me to look after it. He ain’t someone I want to mess with. Anyway, with no warning, we was told this morning that it was time to leave. If I don’t get a chance to pack my kit on a wagon, it’ll either get stolen or left behind, or I’ll end up slogging over those mountains with it on my back. So stay right here and watch this ugly dog for me. If you or it ain’t here when I get back, it’ll be you going down the well. Understand?”

  Chen nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

  “Good.” The soldier let go of his collar and left.

  Chen approached the cage. “Hello, Fu,” he whispered.

  At the sound of his name, the dog looked up and wagged his tail feebly.

  “They haven’t looked after you very well, have they? Don’t worry! I’m here to rescue you and Ting.”

  At the sound of Ting’s name, Fu stood up and put more energy into the wagging tail.

  “That’s a good dog. Do you know where Ting is?”

  The tail wagging increased, and the pink tongue flopped from side to side.

  “Okay. Let’s go find her.”

  Chen looked up to make sure the soldier wasn’t returning and ope
ned the cage. With surprising agility, Fu jumped out and disappeared around the side of the nearest tent. Chen had to hurry to keep up. He managed to skid to halt and take cover as Shenxian and a rough warrior dressed in a thick sheepskin jacket emerged from a large red tent in front of him. Fu seemed to recognize Shenxian and scuttled under the flap of the tent just in time to avoid being stepped on.

  “We must be across the mountains by midnight tonight,” Shenxian said.

  “It is seventy miles to the far end of Min Lake. That’s a long way for a single day’s travel,” the warrior said.

  “That is why we must leave the wagons behind and travel light. Each warrior must take only his weapons, a bag of food and a water bag. Timing is everything.”

  “The road over the mountains is good, but the horses will collapse if we push them too hard, and horses are valuable.”

  “What is the value of a few horses compared with the gold and riches that will be yours when you take Sanxingdui? But you will not take Sanxingdui if you do not get your army over the mountains by midnight tonight.”

  The warrior considered this. “I don’t understand your magic, but you have convinced me that it is powerful. We will be camped below Min Lake before today turns into tomorrow. I will give the orders.”

  “Very good. I must see to my bodyguard.”

  The two men walked within six feet of Chen, but they were so engrossed in their conversation that they never saw the boy huddled in the tent’s shadow. As soon as they were gone, he scuttled out and crawled under the tent flap where Fu had disappeared. The instant he was through, a figure hurled itself at him. Chen managed to push the figure off and assume a fighting stance before he realized it was Ting.

  “I’ve found you!” he said.

  “No,” Ting said with a laugh, “Fu found me. You just followed.” Then she became serious. “But there’s no time to talk. We have to get back to Sanxingdui.”

  “There’s no point. Shenxian’s men are leaving on horseback right now. They’ll be across the mountains by tonight.”

  “I know. Shenxian had a machine that calculated the Min Mountains would fall tomorrow. But we have to try. Maybe his machine made an error. And anyway, we have to escape. Our lives won’t be worth anything here once Shenxian leaves, and he does not intend to take us with him.”

  “How do we escape?”

  “On horseback.”

  “What?” Chen asked, horrified. “I’ve never been on one of those things. They’re dangerous. We could be—”

  He was interrupted by the low growl of Fu at the tent flap.

  “Shenxian’s coming back,” Ting said. “We have to go.”

  The three dove through the flap and ran. Outside was chaos. Soldiers shouted orders and rushed about collecting weapons and getting their horses ready. No one paid any attention to two children and a small ugly dog.

  Chen had no idea where they were going, but he trusted Ting and followed her. Occasionally he looked back over his shoulder, but he knew that even Shenxian would have a hard time pursuing them through the pandemonium of the army getting ready to march.

  Eventually, they arrived at the edge of the camp, where the horses were tied. The animals were not as big as Chen had feared, but he was still horrified at the prospect of trying to stay on the back of one as it galloped over the mountains.

  Ting was heading for a black-and-white pony with a long flowing mane when a tribesman dressed in a rough leather jacket and pants stepped forward and grabbed her by the shoulder. He shouted something Chen didn’t understand, but it was obviously threatening.

  With visions of being a heroic wushu master flashing through his head, Chen leaped forward. He planted his left foot and began what should have been the devastating Scything the New Corn move. But his left foot slipped on mud, and Chen twisted clumsily and landed in an untidy heap at Ting’s feet.

  The tribesman looked surprised and then burst out laughing. He also relaxed his grip on Ting enough to allow her to turn and deliver a painful kick to the back of his knees. At the same time, Fu sank his teeth into the man’s ankle. With a cry, he fell heavily into the nearest horse, which reared in surprise and began lashing out at its tormentor.

  As the tribesman cowered, covering his head to protect himself from the flying hooves, Ting yelled, “Come on!” and leaped smoothly onto the back of the black-and-white pony. She pointed to the brown pony beside hers. “It’s not that difficult,” she said.

  Chen jumped to his feet and scrambled awkwardly onto the beast’s back. The horse shuffled nervously, sensing Chen’s incompetence.

  “Grab hold of the long hair in front of you—it’s called the mane—and hold on,” Ting called as she turned her pony and headed away from the camp.

  The tribesman who had attacked them was back on his feet and shouting. Fu had let go of his ankle and was racing after Ting. Chen leaned forward, grabbed a handful of hair, yelled “Go!” as loud as he could, then closed his eyes and hoped for the best. His mount was happy to follow Ting’s pony and charged off through the mess of men and horses. Chen was vaguely aware of angry shouting voices, but he concentrated on hanging on. By the time he felt brave enough to open his eyes, they had already left the camp behind.

  Chen bounced up and down painfully as Ting increased the pace. The view of the ground rushing beneath him almost made him throw up, so he tried to look ahead at the approaching mountains.

  After a while Ting stopped, lifted Fu up beside her and asked Chen if he was okay. When he nodded and grunted a reply, she laughed and said, “That was a brilliant idea to distract the man with your fall. It was spectacular.”

  “Yeah,” Chen agreed, although all he wanted to do was crawl into a hole and hide in embarrassment.

  “We have to keep moving,” Ting said, turning her pony back along the road. “The army will be setting off soon, and we don’t want them to catch us.”

  Getting caught and not having to go any farther on the back of this terrifying animal seemed like quite a good idea to Chen, but he said nothing, tightened his grip on his pony’s mane and set off after Ting. He occupied himself by praying to every god he could think of to help him survive the day.

  AYLFORD

  COSMIC HARMONY

  The two friends walked back toward town in silence. Heimao walked beside them, delicately stepping around the puddles left by the rain. The clouds had broken up, and a crescent moon left its silvery reflection on the wet sidewalk. The air still felt damp and cold, and a chilling wind gusted down the side streets, shoving soggy pieces of garbage along the gutters. Howard and Cate both pulled their jackets tight as they trudged down Arcton Street, deep in thought.

  Every few steps, Howard came up with new questions, but Cate had given him more than enough to think about already, so he remained silent. His mind instinctively wanted to reject the unbelievable things she had told him, but the more he went over it, the more he realized that Cate’s explanation was the only one that made any sense. He was about to ask her what she thought they should do when his phone rang.

  “Thank heavens. Are you okay? Where are you?” It was his mom. “I got home and you weren’t here. I was so worried. I thought something dreadful had happened to you.”

  Something fairly dreadful had happened to Howard, but he wasn’t about to mention it to his mom.

  “Sorry, Mom. I forgot to call.” He realized that he had spent far longer than usual at the AIPC. “I’m fine. I went out to visit Dad, and I guess time got away from me. A friend came with me, and we hung out in the cafeteria for a bit. We’re just heading out. I’ll be home soon.”

  “Okay. Be careful.”

  “My mom worries,” Howard told Cate as he slipped his phone back in his pocket.

  She took his hand as they walked through the dark. “Are you going to be all right? I’ve thrown a lot of stuff at you.”

  “No kidding,” Howard said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. He was worried about going home and about what dreams might come
when he went to sleep. “I’ll be fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “Honestly—no. But you’ve been great.” He squeezed Cate’s hand. “It’s just that I’m having trouble wrapping my head around some of the things you’ve told me. I know it explains what’s happening to me, but I feel like the whole world—everything that I’ve always believed and taken comfort in—is melting. I’m really scared.”

  “Of going to sleep?” She seemed to be reading his thoughts. “You’re worried about whether you’ll have nightmares tonight?”

  “Yeah, that’s part of it.”

  “I might be able to help with that.” Cate reached into her satchel, brought out a small green statue and handed it to him.

  The statue felt smooth and vaguely greasy, like the Inuit soapstone carving Howard’s mom had on their mantel. It was of a squat man with a wide beard and prominent cheeks and ears. The carving was about the length of Howard’s thumb and fitted snuggly into the palm of his hand.

  “Who’s this?”

  “It’s Bes,” Cate explained. “He’s a very old god. No one knows for sure how old, but he was a favorite of the ancient Egyptians. He’s the protector of homes, the guardian of everything good and the enemy of everything bad. He’s also good at killing snakes.”

  “So I’m fine if a python crawls in my bedroom window. What do I do with Bes?”

  “Place him under your pillow tonight. He’ll keep the bad dreams away.”

  “Awesome,” Howard said, and he meant it. Already Bes felt like an old friend. “Thanks.”

  “We need to come up with a plan,” Cate said as they reached his house.

  “To defeat the monsters from the other dimension?” Howard joked.

  “At least not to let them defeat us.” She was perfectly serious. “I’ll think about it tonight. Why don’t you come round to Crowninshield House tomorrow? I’m in the attic room. We can hang out and decide what to do.”