by P J Tierney
‘Skinny?’ Lucy said, sounding surprised.
‘Yeah.’ Professor Low looked at the ceiling as she thought. ‘Choo, that was it, LeLing. The baby was cute. Is she still there?’
Lucy nodded. ‘Not so skinny any more though.’
‘And the baby isn’t that cute either,’ Jamie added.
Professor Low leaned against the workbench and folded her arms in front of her. ‘Now we’ve got that out of the way,’ she said softly, ‘what are you two really doing here?’
Lucy looked at Jamie; he nodded.
‘Mr Leung had this almanac,’ Lucy said. ‘It was gold with red thread binding, and thick, with hundreds of really thin parchment pages.’ She measured the approximate size with her hands.
Professor Low nodded. ‘Yeah, I know the one you mean. We think it’s from the Tang Dynasty. Professor Leung sent it out for carbon testing.’
Jamie’s stomach clenched. ‘You mean it’s not here?’
Professor Low shook her head. ‘It’s been gone for weeks now. Carbon dating can take up to three months, but the lab isn’t that busy so we should be getting it back soon.’
‘Weeks?’ Jamie said. ‘It can’t have been gone for weeks, I saw it only —’ He stopped and said with dawning realisation, ‘I don’t think it’s at the lab. I don’t think it ever went for carbon dating.’
‘You mean it’s still with Mr Leung?’ Lucy asked.
Jamie nodded. ‘Wherever he might be.’
‘So what makes this almanac so special?’ Professor Low asked.
Jamie and Lucy shared a look, then Jamie said, ‘Because this one tells the future.’
His revelation didn’t really have the desired effect. Professor Low just shrugged and said, ‘Well, they’re all supposed to do that.’
‘But this one gets it right,’ Jamie said. ‘It’s predicted every historical milestone for more than two thousand years.’
‘Things post-Tang Dynasty, you mean?’
‘Things up to today and beyond even,’ Jamie said. The professor’s eyes grew a little wider. ‘How far beyond?’
Jamie shrugged. ‘That’s what we need to find out.’
‘Wow.’ Professor Low stared off into the distance for a second, then she shook her head. ‘It’s not just a good copy, is it? We’ve seen some excellent forgeries of Tang works on paper. It might have been written after the event, which does make it easier to get things right, you’ve got to admit.’
Jamie nodded. ‘I thought of that, but it predicted something no-one knew till only very recently; something that happened since the almanac’s been in Mr Leung’s possession.’
‘And what’s that?’ Professor Low asked.
Jamie took off his hat. ‘Me.’
Professor Low raised her eyebrows in surprise. ‘Jamie Reign,’ she said. ‘Right. I think I’d like to see what else this almanac has to say.’
‘So would I,’ Jamie said. ‘I don’t suppose Mr Leung made a copy?’
Professor Low shook her head. She went to the other workbench and began flicking through papers and moving books. ‘The paper’s too fragile to copy. If you put a light source as strong as a photocopier on it, it’ll just deteriorate.’
Jamie bit down on his lip; he was fast losing hope.
‘But I did see him using a high-speed camera to take some shots of it,’ the professor continued.
Jamie looked at her, puzzled.
‘High speed doesn’t require as much light,’ she explained, ‘so it doesn’t damage the paper.’
Jamie’s stomach fluttered. ‘Is the camera here?’
Professor Low shrugged and gestured at the piles of paper and books on Mr Leung’s desk. ‘Who’d know?’
Lucy and Jamie joined in the search. Jamie moved aside a photo of Mrs Leung and the boys to get to yet another pile of papers and felt a little uncomfortable going through Mr Leung’s things. He felt even worse when he opened Mr Leung’s drawers to see if the camera was in there. Next, Jamie turned to the bookshelf and pulled out every title in case there was something hidden behind them. Nothing. He flicked through the books’ pages, but there wasn’t anything hidden there either.
They were fast running out of places to look in the small office. Jamie began to think maybe Mr Leung had taken the camera home, but if he had the almanac there it didn’t make sense to have the copy too.
‘What did the camera look like?’ Lucy asked.
Professor Low shrugged. ‘Like a camera; there was nothing special about it.’
Jamie looked at the framed photo again. It showed Mrs Leung, Bohai, Yang and Ye standing in front of an ancient temple and smiling. He wondered if Mr Leung had used the same camera they were looking for now. Where would you hide a camera? he asked himself, and his mind went directly to the words Mr Fan had said when they first met: we hide our secrets in plain sight.
‘Where was this photo taken?’ he asked Professor Low.
She peered at it. ‘Looks like the temple of Tin Hau.’
‘Was he working on anything related to Tin Hau?’
Professor Low nodded. ‘He went there to pick up two scrolls they wanted authenticated.’
Jamie swallowed to try to keep calm. ‘Those scrolls — where are they now?’
Professor Low went to a door built into the side wall of the office. It had a round wheel for a handle. She turned the wheel and a gush of air escaped. Behind the door was a glass screen that separated a set of narrow shelves from the outside world. Two strange gloved sleeves protruded through a gap in the glass. Professor Low put her hands in the sleeves and picked up a scroll. She carefully put it down again and picked up another scroll; behind it was a small black camera.
Not quite in plain sight, Jamie thought. His palms itched to get hold of that camera.
Professor Low put it in a perspex tray in front of her and pulled it through an airlock chamber into the office. Jamie lunged for the camera, but Lucy was faster. She had it turned on and was scrolling through the shots before Jamie could even say ‘hey’.
He tried to reach over her shoulder, but she pulled the camera out of his grasp. She walked away and propped herself up against Professor Low’s workbench. Jamie leaned in beside her and finally got a view of the tiny screen. She flicked through image after image.
‘There,’ he said, thinking he recognised the tiny grid pattern Bohai had shown him in the original almanac, but it turned out to be a rainfall chart for the northern highlands. Lucy scrolled on.
‘Can we take this with us?’ Jamie asked Professor Low.
‘I’ll have to download the images first,’ she said, and moved the mouse on the computer to bring the screen to life.
BOOM! The glass behind Lucy’s head shattered as a fist punched straight through it. Lucy squealed as she was grabbed by the ponytail and yanked back to the now crazed glass. An alarm sounded.
Jamie grabbed the fist and dug his nails into the flesh, trying to break its grip on Lucy, but the fingers didn’t budge. Professor Low shouted out to Jamie and tossed him a pair of scissors. Jamie caught them and in one swift action rammed them into the back of the clamped hand.
There was a cry of pain from the other side of the crazed wall. The fist unclenched and Lucy scrambled away.
Jamie looked around the room for an escape. Professor Low grimaced and shook her head. The only door was the one they’d come in by, and the man who’d attacked Lucy was on the other side.
Jamie yanked the slippery little booties from his feet, grabbed Lucy’s hand and pulled her towards the door. He ran with his palm held out flat in front of him and drew on the energy and adrenaline coursing through him to Conjure a shaft of light with so much force it threw the door back off its hinges.
Eugene was on the other side, pulling the pair of scissors from the back of his hand. Jamie dragged Lucy towards the elevator. He glanced back to see Eugene chase after them. As he passed the doorway, Professor Low kicked him with a perfectly timed side kick. It was made all the more effective by her l
ong, spiky heels; she had to wiggle her foot to dislodge the point from his chest. The security guard was momentarily stunned, then he bellowed in red-faced rage. Jamie knew they were in big trouble. He put his head down and charged along the metal-lined corridor. The door beside the elevator said Emergency Exit Only. This was definitely an emergency! Jamie pushed it and a loud screeching alarm added to the blare of the other one. He ran through and up a staircase. He held Lucy’s wrist and pulled her along so fast her feet barely touched the ground.
He headed for the main entrance of the museum, where it would be crowded. He passed the second-floor door and heard the pounding footsteps of the security guard behind them. Behind those, he could make out Professor Low’s heels clicking on the concrete steps.
At last, he and Lucy reached the ground-floor door and burst through. They charged towards the front desk and gasped for Marjory to call the real security guards. Marjory, clearly shocked, clenched her chest and waved the guards over, just as Eugene, followed by Professor Low, came through the open door. The other security guards saw their colleague’s bleeding hand.
‘Thief,’ Eugene gasped, pointing at the two young Warriors of the Way, and the whole squad turned on them.
‘No, no, it’s not the kids!’ Professor Low shouted.
Jamie knew there was no way he and Lucy would make it past the wall of security guards that stood between them and the doors. He turned towards one of the galleries instead, desperate to find a fire exit.
Professor Low tried to head off the guards, but they dodged around her. She chased after them, till one of the guards knocked against a plinth holding a large blue and white porcelain vase. The vase wobbled precariously. The professor hesitated, looking first at the vase then at Jamie. She took two steps towards Jamie, then stopped and swore. She wheeled around and dived for the vase, catching it only centimetres from the unforgiving marble floor.
Jamie charged through the gallery, dragging Lucy with him and dodging various porcelain treasures.
‘Not the Ming!’ Lucy shouted, pointing at another large vase, which Jamie only just managed to avoid. Then she screamed, ‘To the left!’ and Jamie saw an exit sign.
The lumbering guards were still on their tail, with the imposter the closest. Jamie put his shoulder to the door and found himself on a balcony three storeys above a concrete carpark. Eugene slid to a stop and smiled when he saw Jamie and Lucy had nowhere to go.
He held his hand out. ‘The camera,’ he said.
Lucy edged away from the huge security guard. Very slowly she raised her trembling hand towards Eugene. The camera dangled from its strap around her wrist.
Jamie moved stealthily towards the edge of the balcony, until his hand was on the rail. He tightened his grip on Lucy’s other wrist, eased his weight onto his hand, then launched himself over the rail, dragging Lucy with him as he plummeted.
Lucy screeched.
Jamie held his palm out towards the ground and Conjured. The beam from his hand was so powerful it shattered into a haze of particles when it hit the concrete. Then the particles bounced together again to form a cloud a few metres off the ground. But as Jamie aimed their fall towards the cloud, they came to a sudden, bone-jarring stop.
Lucy let out an agonising scream. Eugene was leaning over the balcony rail, holding onto the camera with both hands. And Lucy and Jamie were dangling from that narrow little strap.
Eugene sneered. Then he looked Jamie in the eye and crushed the camera in his hands. The shattered pieces rained down on them and they plummeted again.
Lucy shrieked, but the next second they were enveloped in a cushioning cloud that stopped their fall and muffled her cries. They drifted down through the thick particles till they felt solid ground beneath their feet.
‘You okay, Luce?’ Jamie asked.
She answered very quickly and in a higher voice than normal. ‘I just fell three storeys and nearly had my arm yanked out of its socket. So no, Jamie, I’m not okay.’
Jamie smiled and rephrased his question. ‘Are you hurt?’
‘Well, not really,’ she said in a surprised tone. She looked around in amazement. The white cloud dulled the sound from outside and absorbed the light. Everything glowed. ‘We’re not dead, are we?’
Jamie chuckled. ‘No. Well, I don’t think so at least. But if we hang around here too long we might be.’
The white particles started to fade and the sound of the museum’s alarm and the yells of the security guards grew loud again. Jamie and Lucy ripped off the white paper coats and Jamie grabbed Lucy’s wrist once more. They charged across the concrete and into the park, down a grassy hill and across a narrow bridge, dodging children and dogs and people flying kites.
At the top of a steep hill, they barrelled into the middle of a market day festival. Masses of people were crammed into a paved square that was surrounded by stalls selling food, toys and balloons. Jamie and Lucy slipped into the crowd.
‘Are they coming?’ Jamie asked as they wound through the crush, getting bashed and buffeted by the sea of people.
‘I don’t think so,’ Lucy said.
In the centre of the plaza was a large fountain with stone gods and demons spraying water into a pool below. Jamie and Lucy scooped up handfuls of water to cool their faces, then sat on the fountain’s edge to catch their breath. Jamie turned to her. ‘I don’t suppose the memory card was spared?’ She held up her wrist in response. The camera strap dangled with nothing but a chunk of black plastic on the end.
Jamie sighed and leaned over his knees.
After a while Lucy said, ‘That cloud thing was really cool.’
Jamie shrugged.
‘You run really fast too,’ she said.
Jamie nodded; he had been thinking about that as well. ‘It’s a Spirit Warrior thing. I think it’s a bit like Riding the Way, just in lots of very small distances. I suppose that’s why the Spirit Warrior always breaks the record for running the wall.’
‘You mean, that’s how you always break the record.’
‘Whatever,’ he said, and shrugged. Then he added, ‘I bet that black T-shirt Eugene had on under his uniform had a yellow triangle on the back.’
Lucy said, ‘I bet his name’s not Eugene either.’
Jamie agreed with her. Then he put his face in his hands and said sadly, ‘We almost had it. We were so close.’
A piece of paper blew across the pavers and caught on his foot. He picked it up and read: Please help me find my grandson. His name is Errol. He is ten and he’s a good boy. Jamie handed the paper to Lucy to read.
‘One of the ones that didn’t make the newspaper?’ she said.
Jamie nodded and took the paper back. He folded it and put it in his pocket.
‘What was he good at?’ Lucy asked.
Jamie didn’t pull out the slip to check. He had enough to worry about right now — like where were Mr Leung and the almanac?
‘It’s weird that Eugene destroyed the camera,’ Lucy said. ‘Now they don’t have a copy of the almanac either. He must have just wanted to make sure we didn’t get it.’
Jamie looked at her. ‘Yeah, you’re right. And why wouldn’t they need a copy of the almanac?’
Lucy paused for a moment and then her eyes flared. ‘Because they already have one.’
Jamie stood up. ‘Which means Mr Leung is in trouble. Come on.’ He reached for her hand. ‘We need to get back to Sai Chun.’
Lucy pulled her hand from his and rubbed her shoulder. ‘You know, I think I’ll be okay walking on my own, thanks.’
Chapter 13
On the bus, Jamie chose a seat near the back door, in case they needed a quick escape. He leaned his head against the window and watched the busy streets. In the tunnel, the lights turned the glass into a mirror that captured his own reflection. He saw Lucy watching him; she looked worried.
They got off the bus at the marketplace on the escarpment above Sai Chun. A brand-new billboard showed a familiar blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl with
the words: Have you seen Elizabeth? Jamie looked away. He put his hand in his pocket and felt the folded plea from Errol’s grandparent.
He sighed and walked up to the closest market stall and picked through the white buk choy. He selected six bunches and placed them in the plastic bag the stallholder held out to him. He put in two large white radishes as well. The stallholder offered him some watercress. Jamie nodded, but said no to the gai lan. He chose four womboks instead; they could last three weeks if you peeled them from the outside in.
He paid with Lucy’s money, then made his way to where the path started down the escarpment. Lucy was already there, flicking through yet another newspaper. Jamie thought again about Elizabeth, and Errol, and that magician kid Lucy had told him about. Then there were the Kwok brothers who’d never returned from their fishing trip. They couldn’t have been older than Bohai’s brothers.
The twins! Jamie bolted down the path towards Sai Chun, the shopping bags bouncing against his legs.
‘Hey!’ Lucy called after him.
Jamie barely heard her. He tore through the thicket and ducked beneath low-hanging branches; he dodged and slid and skidded around bends. He heard a screech and rustling in the trees nearby as Jet swung from branch to branch. At the bottom of the mountain, Jet leaped onto his shoulder and together they ran to the Leungs’ house.
From the deck of the Lin Yao, Wing stood to watch Jamie dump his shopping at the courtyard door of the Leungs’ house and go straight through.
Jamie heard Wing calling his name and running to catch up. He got there just as Jamie pounded on the front door.
Bohai answered.
Jamie panted, ‘Where are the twins?’
Jamie thought he saw a flicker of fear flash across Bohai’s face before he composed himself.
‘They’re at school,’ Bohai said.
‘They’re not at school,’ Jamie said. ‘Just like your dad’s not at work.’