The Veiled Dragon

by Denning, Troy

  “Tang!” she said at last. “What do you do here?”

  “I come to rescue you, Lady Feng.” The prince held his bow. It was not unusual to have an entire conversation with the Third Virtuous Concubine without receiving permission to rise. It was a good thing she was not a queen; he would have had to kowtow. “I also come to destroy Cypress’s spirit gem.”

  “No. You mustn’t!” She began to pick her way down the ingot slope. “Cypress would know!”

  “It does not matter. He already tries to kill me for rescuing you.”

  “You risk life?” Lady Feng slapped Tang on the back of the head. “You are Shou prince!”

  “Rescuing you is only way to redeem honor of Ginger Palace.”

  “Do I ask to be rescued?” Lady Feng grabbed Tang’s chin and pulled his head up, then waved her arm around the glittering chamber. “Here is more wealth than all Imperial treasuries!”

  Tang scowled at this, for his mother had always been too wise to value wealth above freedom. “What good are these riches? Whole room of gold and diamonds is worth less than nothing if it makes prisoner of you.”

  Lady Feng’s squinty eye rolled in its socket, perhaps in dim recognition of the wisdom she herself had imparted to the prince. Her pop-eye, however, darted around the room from bauble to bauble, as though checking to be certain that each one remained in its place.

  “Do not argue!” she ordered. “Wealth shown is wealth lost to thieves.”

  Tang shook his head sadly. “You have dragon sickness.” He started up the ingot slope. “Show me where Cypress hides spirit gem; then we leave.”

  “Go no farther, Tang.”

  Tang stopped in his tracks. When Lady Feng assumed that tone, she was not a woman to be trifled with. His mother was capable of killing a man with the merest wisp of an incantation. Though he believed she loved him as any mother loved her child, she was a Scholar of Yen-Wang-Yeh, and to scholars of the Great Judge, life and death were merely aspects of one existence; even a son could not be sure his mother would care which state he happened to occupy.

  After a moment’s consideration, Tang realized how to solve his dilemma. He faced his cronish mother. “I only try to protect your treasure, Lady Feng. Cypress thinks it belongs to him. We must destroy him.”

  Lady Feng’s pop-eye flashed in anger, but the squinty one rolled around to study him. It was horribly bloodshot, with a milky iris and a black pupil that seemed as deep as the Well of Eighteen Hells itself, and Tang had not seen it since he was a little boy.

  “Tang, you try to trick me?”

  For the first time since his battle with the wyverns, Tang felt like a coward. He let his gaze drop and nodded. “But only to protect you from Cypress. Whether you understand or not, dragon sickness has made you his prisoner more than chains.”

  The squinty eye trembled as though from a palsy, but continued to linger on Tang’s face for a long time. At last, Lady Feng said, “Tunnel is long. If we destroy spirit gem, how do we escape?”

  “We carry extra air.” To demonstrate, Tang opened his water skin and filled it with breath. “Then I pull us through passage on rope I leave tied to other end.”

  Lady Feng eyed the air sack for a long time, then reluctantly nodded. “But we do not smash gem until we are outside.” The squinty eye rolled back into her head, and she added, “Then we destroy Cypress and come back to cave of wealth!”

  “Of course—if that is truly wish of Third Virtuous Concubine.” Tang ran a troubled eye over the glittering chamber; a month ago, his mother would have looked on the vast treasure with the mocking disdain of one who recognized such things as a worldly illusion. Now, it was all too easy to imagine Lady Feng returning to live out her life among these lonely riches. “Perhaps we even build palace for you.”

  A pithy smile crept across the gray lips of the Third Virtuous Concubine. “Most excellent idea. You know where to find spirit gem?”

  “Cypress wishes to be with love. Gem can be only one place.” Tang looked at the glowing gem in Yanseldara’s staff. “I get staff. You gather your things.”

  As the prince turned to climb the ingots, a gentle wave rolled up the beach, stirring the precious coins and soaking his feet to the ankles. Tang scowled at the rising water, trying to imagine what might have caused the surge.

  Lady Feng grabbed his arm and shoved him into the water. “You must hide! Cypress returns!”

  Fourteen

  At the far end of the Ginger Palace’s long audience hall, the new chamberlain drew aside two silk draperies and opened a pair of teak doors. A double column of Minister Hsieh’s yellow-cloaked guards marched into the room and split, one line filing to each side of Ruha and Vaerana. Behind the warriors followed a parade of servants bearing a triangular table, three teak chairs, and a tray with a steaming teapot and a trio of tiny, deep bowls.

  As Hsieh’s men took their positions, Vaerana scowled and leaned close to Ruha. “I don’t know why I listen to you. This is going to be worse than Voonlar. They mean to take us prisoner.”

  “You are too suspicious, Vaerana. They intend nothing of the kind.”

  “Then why so many guards?”

  “They are only for ceremony.” Ruha shook her head at the Lady Constable’s suspicions, remembering how easily Minister Hsieh had disabled Wei Dao. “The mandarin is quite capable of defending himself.”

  Vaerana sneered doubtfully, but fell silent as the servants arrived with the furniture. They put the table on the chamber’s exquisite floor mosaic, carefully arranging it so the point of the triangle stood over the head of the flame-tailed bird and the base faced Ruha and the Lady Constable. They placed two chairs on the women’s side and positioned the third one before the tip of the table. The man bearing the tea tray stepped to one side, then stood at attention while Minister Hsieh, with Yu Po following close behind, entered the room.

  The mandarin glided across the floor to the point of the table, then bowed to his guests. Ruha returned the gesture, making certain to bend lower than her host, but Vaerana barely nodded. Yu Po pulled the mandarin’s chair out. A pair of servants stepped forward to do likewise for the witch and Lady Constable.

  Vaerana astonished the servant by taking her own chair and placing it opposite the tea bearer. She dropped heavily into the seat, then braced her elbows on the table and faced Hsieh.

  “The witch tells me you have some ylang oil.”

  Yu Po’s face turned instantly scarlet. He slipped around Hsieh’s chair. “You are ill-bred daughter of—”

  “Yu Po!” Hsieh waited for his adjutant to stop, then waved at the tea tray. “You may serve.”

  Yu Po’s jaw dropped, as did that of the tea bearer and the other servants; then the adjutant bowed to his master and stepped to obey.

  Hsieh smiled at Vaerana. “Yes, ylang oil is ready.” He looked to Ruha. “Where is Lady Feng?”

  The witch found it difficult to meet the mandarin’s gaze. “I am afraid we do not know.” She saw Hsieh’s lips tighten and had the cold, sinking feeling that she was doomed to appear a failure to everyone she met. “We were not able to follow the spy when he fled to the lair.”

  The handle of the teapot nearly slipped from Yu Po’s grasp, and the lid clinked loudly.

  The mandarin frowned at his adjutant’s clumsiness, then asked, “Then Lady Feng cannot tell you where to find lair?”

  “Vaerana is … reluctant … to use your potion on Yanseldara.” Ruha cast an uncomfortable glance at the Lady Constable, who set her jaw and showed no sign of feeling uncomfortable about her mistrust of the Shou. “I am sorry.”

  Yu Po finished pouring and set the teapot back on the tray, then picked up one of the tiny bowls and looked uncertain as to where he should place it. Minister Hsieh graciously gestured to Ruha, and the adjutant placed the vessel on the table before her. When he started to set the next cup before Vaerana, however, the mandarin scowled harshly and cleared his throat. The young man paled and nearly sloshed tea on the table as he swun
g his hand toward his master.

  If the snub troubled Vaerana, she showed no sign. “I don’t want to strain Yanseldara. She’s not strong enough.”

  Hsieh waited for Yu Po to set a bowl before the Lady Constable, then picked up his own tea. Ruha slipped her cup beneath her veil and also sipped her drink, but Vaerana pretended not to see the steaming vessel before her.

  The mandarin returned his bowl to the table. “Whether Lady Yanseldara drinks potion is for Moonstorm House to decide, of course.” Hsieh turned back to Ruha. “But if you do not know where to find lair, why do you need ylang oil?”

  “Perhaps you have caught Winter Blossom?” Ruha asked. “We do know the general direction to the lair. If we carry the familiar close enough, he will lead us to Lady Feng.”

  Minister Hsieh shook his head. “The lemur eludes us. I fear he goes to hunt for his mistress.” He looked back to Vaerana. “It appears we have only one way to find Lady Feng—or Lady Yanseldara’s missing staff.”

  “I’m not going to pour your cricket juice down Yanseldara’s throat,” Vaerana declared. “It was Shou magic that put her into catalepsy in the first place.”

  “And it is only Shou magic that can cure her,” Hsieh reminded her. “Compared to need to reunite body with spirit, risk to Lady Yanseldara is small.”

  “I said no.”

  Hsieh nodded politely. “Very well. Lady Feng is in no danger, but until you find staff—and Third Virtuous Concubine—you have no need of ylang oil.”

  Vaerana’s eyes flashed silver. “You’re threatening me?”

  “I state fact.” Hsieh sipped his tea, then said, “Until you find Lady Yanseldara’s spirit and free it from staff, ylang oil does no good. There is no reason to give it to you.”

  “No reason?” Vaerana stood, knocking her chair over. “I’ll give you reason!”

  “Vaerana, sit down!” Ruha urged. “It would be foolish to—”

  The witch’s warning was too late. Vaerana reached for Hsieh’s collar.

  The mandarin flung hot tea into the Lady Constable’s eyes and bent toward the floor, ducking her grab easily. Without putting his tea bowl aside, he cupped his free hand behind her heel and pulled her foot off the ground. Vaerana lost her balance and fell over backward, landing on her chair and smashing it into pieces. The tips of a dozen long-bladed Shou halberds instantly touched her throat. A dozen more encircled Ruha.

  Slowly, Ruha placed both her hands on the table and glanced down at Vaerana. A red mask had formed around the Lady Constable’s eyes where the tea had scalded her, but the way she was blinking suggested she was more astonished than injured.

  “Vaerana, if you value your life—or at least Yanseldara’s—do not move,” Ruha advised. “Allow me to explain the situation to Minister Hsieh, and I’m certain he—”

  “You don’t have to explain anything,” Vaerana snarled. “All Minister Hsieh needs to know is that Pierstar’s waiting outside with a hundred Maces. If I don’t join him with a cask of ylang oil in the next twenty minutes, there’ll soon be another two thousand—and they won’t be in a patient mood.”

  Hsieh rose, very slowly.

  Ruha said, “Minister, let me explain—”

  The mandarin waved her silent, a command that was instantly enforced as his guards touched their halberd tips to her throat. Hsieh stepped over to Vaerana and peered down at her supine form.

  “Since you know nothing but threat, we converse in manner you understand. First threat: If you try to touch me again, I snap offending arm. Second threat: If we do not find Lady Feng, you do not receive ylang oil, and Lady Yanseldara dies. Final threat: If Maces do not withdraw from grounds of Ginger Palace immediately, my guards slay them all. Then they slay your family, your servants, and everyone inside Moonstorm House.”

  Vaerana met the mandarin’s icy glare with one of her own. “No one threatens Yanseldara or Moonstorm House. One way or—”

  “Vaerana, you have the manners of a jackal!” Ruha barked. “If you say another word, I swear by the name of my father that I shall let the Shou cut your throat, and save Yanseldara without you!”

  The Lady Constable looked at Ruha with the stunned expression of a sheikh being dressed down by the tribe beggar. Before Vaerana could recover from her shock, the witch turned her attention to the angry mandarin.

  “And Minister Hsieh, your guards will not slay anyone inside Moonstorm House—or Elversult.” Several halberds pricked Ruha’s skin menacingly, but she ignored them. “There is no time for a battle—at least not now. If you wish to see Lady Feng or Yanseldara alive again, you must work together.”

  “I have no need to work with this woman,” Hsieh snarled. “Lady Feng is in no danger.”

  “I am sorry to tell you she is—and also everyone inside the Ginger Palace.” When Hsieh scowled, Ruha hastened to add, “I do not speak of Vaerana’s Maces. I am speaking of Cypress. We must take the ylang oil and flee before the dragon discovers his spy’s mistake.”

  “Do not lie to me,” Hsieh said. “I see you destroy dragon.”

  “You saw me destroy his body, not his spirit,” Ruha said. “Do you not remember that he was undead? He has taken a new body.”

  Hsieh glared at the witch. “How long do you know this?”

  “That does not matter.” Ruha saw no use in lying; the mandarin had already guessed the truth. “What is important is that we leave before Cypress comes. If you allow him to have the oil now, you will never see Lady Feng again.”

  It was Yu Po who posed the question Ruha had been anticipating since they left the Night Castle. “Forgive me for speaking, Esteemed Mandarin, but perhaps we make bargain with dragon for return of Lady Feng?”

  Ruha was spared the necessity of pointing out the suggestion’s folly when Hsieh shot the adjutant an impatient glower. “Only fool bargains with angry dragon.”

  Yu Po’s face reddened with embarrassment, but he was determined to redeem himself. He puffed out his chest. “I am not afraid, Worthy Minister. When I explain how witch deceives us—”

  “If Cypress promises to return Lady Feng, who will cast the spell?” Ruha interrupted. “And after you give him the ylang oil, why would he return such a valuable hostage—and one who may well have the power to undo what he has worked so hard to do?”

  Yu Po scowled at the witch and started to reply, but Hsieh raised a hand to silence him. “Say no more, Yu Po. Perhaps Lady Ruha neglects to tell us about dragon’s new body, but that does not make her wrong now. Go now, and prepare my guards to ride!”

  * * * **

  Tang stopped well back in the cramped passage, where it branched into three smaller tunnels. The limestone felt almost slimy beneath his sodden boots, and the trill of the tiny stream echoed surprisingly loud in his ears. Stooping over so he would not hit his head on the low ceiling, he turned around and kneeled, his legs straddling the rivulet. The mouth of his hiding place was wide enough that he could see most of the ingot island, where Lady Feng stood beside Yanseldara’s staff, calmly awaiting Cypress’s arrival. Though the prince judged no man could see him hiding so far back in the passage, he had no idea whether the darkness would also conceal him from the empty-eyed dragon. He would find out soon enough, for it seemed unlikely the beast would waste much time before searching out the slayer of his pet wyverns.

  A tremendous sloshing sounded from the treasure chamber; then Cypress’s head rose into view beyond the island. The dragon appeared larger than even the night before, with horns as long as lances and a snout the size of a horse. He spread his wings, concealing the entire far wall of the cavern, and water poured down the dull scales in cataracts. He waded forward, rising high above the island as he climbed the beach of tinkling coins. Tang could see that Cypress carried a brown-cloaked figure in the talons of one hand.

  The dragon paused beside the island and lowered his claw to the summit of the ingot heap. A plump, wide-eyed man clutching a small wooden cask crawled off, then collapsed to his knees and stared gaped-mouthed a
t the sparkling chamber around him. Cypress turned his vacant-eyed gaze on Lady Feng and dropped Tang’s rope at her feet.

  “I see some of your son’s men survived.” The dragon’s booming words echoed off the stony walls like drum music. “Where are they? I would repay them for the pain they caused my pets.”

  When he heard Cypress assume it had taken a whole party to kill the wyverns, Tang’s heart swelled with pride. Then it occurred to the prince that his mother’s captor had spoken aloud, and the air inside his inflated chest turned cold and sickening. If the dragon could talk again, he could speak spell incantations and, no doubt, breathe acid. The prince felt as if he had chased a chameleon into the brush and found a crocodile waiting instead.

  The Third Virtuous Concubine studied the rope at her feet, then craned her neck to fix her outward-looking eye on the dragon. “I know nothing of Prince Tang’s men.”

  Cypress snorted wisps of black fume into the air, then dropped his head and held one gaping eye socket over Lady Feng’s head. “Why are you lying? Perhaps you think these men can steal my treasure for you?”

  Lady Feng’s bulging eye looked as though it might pop from the socket. She slipped away from the dragon and started toward the man with the cask, clearly anxious to change the subject.

  “Who is this fool? I do not ask for company.”

  The tactic seemed to work, for a crooked grin inched up the length of Cypress’s snout. “He is not company; he is my spy.”

  The plump man rose and bowed to Lady Feng. “Tombor the Jolly at your service, Virtuous Concubine.”

  Lady Feng’s squinty eye swung outward to gaze the man up and down, then rolled back to its original position. “I have no need of your service; you worship god of masks and betrayal. But I warn you, sentence of Number Six Court is sure to be harsh. Do not die before redeeming yourself.”

  Tombor’s florid face paled, and he looked quickly away from Lady Feng. “I was only offering a greeting, but I shall remember your advice.” He snatched up the cask he had brought and held it before him. “I have here the ylang oil you need.”