The Clock Flower

by Barbara Casey

  Immediately, all of the iron will and strong determination of a woman who had been living on her own since her husband’s death kicked into play. Fortunately, Grai had left with her some addresses and phone numbers, not knowing exactly where he and Larry would be staying. She read off the information to Carolina’s mother, feeling slightly better knowing she was being helpful after all.

  Alessandra, now that they had been successful in reaching two of the numbers on Lyuba’s list, wasn’t ready to stop just yet. Once again she dialed Larry’s number, thinking the third time might be the charm.

  It was.

  * * *

  Larry and Grai arrived at the Jinan Yaoqiang Airport looking worse than they felt. It had been an uneventful flight, but long and tiring. It was the worry of what lay ahead that kept the adrenalin flowing in these two men; for even though they both had abandoned the gypsy way of life, their innate instincts were strong. Those instincts were telling them they had to find Carolina and the FIGs as soon as possible—before anything terrible happened.

  Once they cleared customs, Grai stayed at the baggage pick-up to collect their luggage—what little they had hastily packed—while Larry went ahead to get a taxi. Carolina had told him where she and the FIGs would be staying before they left. He just hoped he could make the taxi driver understand. He couldn’t.

  “Senator Yi,” Grai said hopefully to the driver when he found Larry, but got no response.

  “Yellow Sea Laboratories,” said Larry, but again the language barrier couldn’t be breached. Reaching the point of desperation, Larry remembered another name from the documents Lucia had sent to him—“Xing Qiang,” he said. The driver’s face lit up; he quickly hustled the two men into the back seat of his cab along with their bags and drove into the midst of utter pandemonium and madness that came with being in one of China’s busiest airports.

  Two hours later, Larry and Grai had just reached the village of Puli and were headed toward the outskirts to the home of Senator Yi when Larry’s phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number, but the area code was in Italy.

  The relief Lyuba felt was immediate when she heard Larry’s voice. Nodding, she reached out and squeezed Alessandra’s hand, then with the authority and determination of a choovihni, she described what had been revealed to her, instructing this son of a Gypsy King and the love of her daughter’s life on what needed to be done.

  “Do we know anything more about the yellow dragon?” Larry asked. “It has to be someone connected to Yellow Sea Laboratories.”

  “I only see the dragon and its intentions,” answered Lyuba. “Also, there is a yellow flower that Mackenzie wears. The flower offers protection, but it also threatens death.”

  Before Larry hung up, he got Alessandra’s name and phone number so he could contact Lyuba if he was able to find out anything else. That was when Lyuba told him, “Larry, the danger is now. Carolina and the FIGs are walking into the dragon’s lair as we speak,” for she had seen another vision—and it was terrifying.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  The dig site was amazing. Archeologists had dug down through seventeen civilizations, and there were still more to discover. Dara was especially interested in what they had found regarding the written language. She conversed in various dialects with the people she was introduced to both at the dig site and in the building where the research was being conducted, easily translating for Carolina, Jennifer, and Mackenzie. For lunch, Dr. Wu had arranged for them to eat at a traditional Chinese restaurant within walking distance of the dig site where they were served authentic Chinese food. “I hope they don’t serve dog meat,” whispered Dara to Mackenzie and Jennifer causing the four of them to giggle since Carolina overheard and had been thinking the same thing.

  Afterwards, Li Lee took them to Yellow Sea Laboratories. When they drove up to the front of the building, several men and women—the scientists who worked there—were lined up, waiting to formally greet them. The first person to step forward to extend his greeting was Dong Jianjun Zhiqiang—Jian, the Senator’s assistant; the second, Old Dragon. As soon as she was introduced, she politely bowed and then issued an invitation to them: “I would like for you to come for tea in my home after you have toured the facilities.” Ling accepted on behalf of all of them.

  It was interesting to tour the facilities and see the scientists at work, but no one appreciated it more than Mackenzie. To know that she was a part of something so important had given her the confidence that had always been lacking. It took her outside of herself and gave her a different focus on things other than what she perceived to be her own shortcomings. “This is Nianzu, Su Wing’s son,” explained Ling when they stopped at his work station. Carolina couldn’t help but notice him staring at the pin Mackenzie was wearing. “And this is Fu Wang, one of our senior scientists,” introducing the man seated at the next work station. The man immediately pulled the sleeve of his lab coat down to cover the birthmark on his arm, but not before Carolina had seen it. It was similar to what she had been seeing in her nightmares. The elongated head with a snout that resembled a boar, the five claws—a pig dragon she had learned it was called. Instinctively, she moved closer to Mackenzie as though trying to shield her. Dara saw it as well, for beneath the birthmark was the ancient symbol for “Dragon King Ruler.”

  “Where’s Jennifer?” Dara asked, sensing the fear in Carolina. When they couldn’t locate her in any of the offices, they expanded their search to outside. It was there where they found her, sitting on some steps. Lost in her own world of musical notes and unaware that she had caused a disturbance, she was once again writing the faint notes of the banhu on eight-stave paper.

  Since it was getting late in the afternoon, Ling suggested they go to Old Dragon’s for tea, then return home. It had been a long day—interesting, but tiring. They could start fresh after a good night’s sleep. Old Dragon was waiting for them when they arrived and led them into a sitting room where they could be comfortable and visit while Kim disappeared into the kitchen to prepare the tea to serve. “Kim is Su Wing’s daughter,” Ling explained, “and the sister of Nianzu, the young scientist you met earlier.”

  “Such a nice family,” murmured Carolina, struggling to put into place the family connections and the head-pounding warnings that were breaking her concentration and filling her heart with fear.

  “Carolina? Are you all right?” But Dara knew she wasn’t—something was wrong. Jennifer sensed it as well for she heard the banhu playing, only this time it was loud and harsh and discordant. Only Mackenzie seemed to be unaware as she listened to Ling and Old Dragon talk about their childhood.

  Coming from the kitchen, Kim carried a beautiful service of yellow porcelain tea cups and saucers on a large tray. Carolina’s eyes were drawn to the tiny hand-painted dragons that decorated the rim of each cup and saucer. Kim offered the tea first to Mackenzie, then Dara and Jennifer, and then to Carolina. Carolina watched thinking that something wasn’t right, everything was blurred and conversation was incoherent and disjointed; but yet they were in a foreign country, or maybe she had eaten too much at lunch, or she was probably still tired from the long trip. Family connections—warnings—danger. The beautiful yellow cups and saucers—the tea—

  “MILK WITCH!”

  The words exploded inside her head, and because she had the blood of the choovihni from the beginning of all time running through her veins, she knew. Just as she knew that she and the FIGs had to run toward the big red box when they were being chased in the subterranean hell under the Grand Central Terminal. And just as she knew that her mother was trying to save her from that gypsy boy’s curse. She knew.

  Over and over again, she heard the words screeched, vibrating through her whole body and filling her soul, blocking out all other sounds. Her head ached in excruciating pain, draining all of her thoughts and senses, and taking away her ability to move. Everything around her went black except for one vision: the pig dragon. As the five claws of the yellow fire-eating dragon reach
ed toward Mackenzie, Carolina screamed and with all of the strength she had, she reached out and slapped the tea cup out of Mackenzie’s hands, causing the cup and saucer to fly across the room and the tea to spill everywhere.

  “Carolina?” Frightened, Mackenzie looked at her wide-eyed trying to understand what was happening, not knowing what to do, as Kim suddenly snatched the dandelion pin off Mackenzie’s blouse and ran from the room.

  Dara immediately rushed over to Carolina, prepared to do whatever was necessary to protect her and the other FIGs. Jennifer, trembling with fists clenched, also moved next to Carolina poised for battle, for she knew that Carolina had just saved Mackenzie’s life. She had heard the final notes of the banhu. She now knew its purpose: she knew the question, and she knew the answer. At last, the yayue was complete.

  In the midst of all the confusion, Larry and Grai came rushing in through the back door holding Kim firmly by the arm and pushing her in front of them. “I think this woman was trying to steal Mackenzie’s pin,” Larry said, holding the delicate porcelain flower in his hand. Off in the distance they could hear the loud persistent wail of clanging alarms as the local police rapidly approached.

  Old Dragon protectively put her arm around Ling as she stood, neither of the women understanding what was happening; only that something terrible had just taken place. As the painful pounding in Carolina’s head gradually disappeared along with the words “milk witch,” and the horrible vision of the dragon slowly faded from Carolina’s thoughts, she wrapped her arms around Mackenzie sobbing. They had come so close to losing her.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  It was late by the time they finished talking with the police. When they finally returned to Ling’s home, Su Wing had already prepared two additional rooms for Larry and Grai, as well as ample amounts of hot tea, spring rolls, nian gao or rice cakes, and finger sandwiches thinking they might be hungry after such an ordeal.

  In their discussions with the police, they learned that the police had been alerted by Larry’s telephone call from the Jinan Yaoqiang Airport, and were on their way to Old Dragon’s home to take Kim in for questioning at the very moment Carolina heard her mother’s warning. They had already picked up Kim’s brother, Nianzu, and Fu Wang, also believed to be involved. However, Nianzu was later released when it was confirmed that he had been hired by Senator Yi to secretly report anything unusual he observed within Yellow Sea Laboratories.

  “We would have arrived sooner, but we came here first, thinking this is where you would be,” Larry explained, “and Su Wing told us you had gone to Yellow Sea Laboratories. When we got there, someone told us you were having tea with Old Dragon.”

  “Thank goodness the taxi driver knew who Old Dragon was,” said Grai, “and where she lived.”

  From what they learned from the police, Kim and Fu Wang were working together to usurp Old Dragon’s position with Yellow Sea Laboratories—trying to make it look as though Old Dragon was using the experimental drug before it had been approved so Fu Wang could take over. “He was next in line to head up the project in the event something were to happen to Old Dragon,” explained Ling. “Along with that, Fu Wang believed that he was a descendent of the dragon ruler—Emperor Huangdi—and had imperial power to one day rule his own dynasty. But he wanted full control over the Clock Flower Project in order to capitalize on that power and to use it for his own personal gain.”

  “I just don’t see how they thought they could get away with it,” said Dara.

  Jennifer nodded, “Right, because isn’t that whole thing about the dragon ruler and Emperor Huangdi just a myth?”

  “Many people hold on to the old beliefs,” said Su Wing quietly, bowing slightly and glancing at Mackenzie.

  “Kim had been using small amounts of a drug called ‘dragon’s blood,’ which Fu Wang stole from the lab, to poison Old Dragon, believing that by giving her a certain amount in her tea over time, it would eventually kill her—his offering of a human sacrifice to the dragon ruler. It is a derivative of the drug we are researching now for age reversal.”

  Ling shook her head, trying to make sense of everything as she explained what had happened and why. “I felt certain someone was stealing the drug, I just didn’t know who or for what reason. The police suspected Kim from the beginning, so Old Dragon took precautions believing that she was being targeted. I just couldn’t believe that Kim was involved, even though everything pointed to her. I am so sorry, Su Wing. I know the sadness you must be feeling that your own daughter was caught up in such a terrible deceit.”

  “I have no daughter; I only have son,” Su Wing said. In her heart and in her mind, she had already renounced her daughter because of her evil ways and the shame she had brought to her and to Senator Yi. Their families had been intertwined for generations, and for her daughter to perform such a terrible and disgraceful act against the ruling family of Qiang was unforgiveable. She would grieve losing her daughter, at another time and another place, but for now she would continue to serve the Xing-Qiang just as her family had done for generations before her.

  “Then with the arrival of Mackenzie, things got even more complicated,” Ling continued, “and believing her to be a disruption to their plan, they decided that Old Dragon’s invitation for tea would be a good opportunity to remove Mackenzie as well by putting a poisonous drug in her tea.” Ling reached out to touch Mackenzie. “We just didn’t know what, if anything, was happening. I went to the police, but with no evidence other than it appeared that some highly toxic drugs were missing, there wasn’t much they could do other than keep the case open and try to find out what they could. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

  Larry put his arm around Carolina and pulled her close. “Are you all right now?”

  “Yes,” then reaching for his hand, “I heard Lyuba’s warning. She told me it was the “milk witch.”

  Grai nodded. “That is the travelers’ term for the white substance in the dandelion stem. It has beneficial properties, but if you don’t know how to use it, it can be poisonous and deadly. That must be what Kim put in Mackenzie’s tea.”

  “But why did Kim want Mackenzie’s pin?” Carolina asked.

  It was Ling who had the answer. “She saw it as another symbol of power that was not under their control—the very thing she and Fu Wang were trying to seize. Taking Mackenzie’s pin was just a desperate attempt to preserve something they never had to begin with. Even the drug Kim was putting in Old Dragon’s tea wasn’t a drug at all, but refined sugar. When I noticed that there were discrepancies in the drug inventory reports, I asked Old Dragon to remove the drug and replace it with sugar just to be safe.” Tears spilled from her eyes. “From what the police know now, the poison Kim used today was something else—it really was dragon’s milk, or milk witch as Carolina called it. Even a small amount of it would have caused instant death to those who ingested it. If it hadn’t been for you, Carolina…” she didn’t finish the sentence. It was too horrible to even think about, much less say out loud.

  “What about Old Dragon’s youthful appearance and physical changes?” asked Mackenzie, thinking of the photograph she saw on the internet.

  “Old Dragon accomplished that with hair dye and make up.” Ling smiled thinking how resourceful her friend had been. “She was so convincing. We knew the side effects of taking the drug would bring about physical changes. Not knowing what or whom we were dealing with, she didn’t want to take any chances on someone thinking the drug wasn’t working and then replace it with another more powerful drug.”

  Much later, after everyone had gone to bed, Mackenzie and Ling sat on the wooden seat inside the ancient, square-based pagoda, looking up into the heavens filled with sparkling stars. Ling knew that Mackenzie would want to tell Carolina, Dara, and Jennifer first because they were her best friends—they were like her family. She would want them to know. Then, if Mackenzie agreed, she would properly introduce Mackenzie to the world as her daughter. It was time, and it
was the right thing to do. But now, in the quiet darkness of the ancient pagoda, Ling wanted only Mackenzie to know—the story of how a young Chinese woman and a man from the far-away country of Scotland fell deeply in love, but because her father was head of the ruling family of Qiang, they could not be together; and the child that came as a result of that love was taken away.

  “Old Dragon is my best friend,” she explained. “We played together as children. We went to school together. And when this happened, she sacrificed a great deal for me personally and for my family—she pretended to be pregnant in order to help protect my family’s name. I pretended to be her maid, and we went to my place of birth, Hawaii, where you were born. I begged my father to let me keep you, but he refused. He had already made arrangements for where you would be taken—the orphanage in upstate New York.”

  Mackenzie felt as though she was someone else, like one of those porcelain dolls encased in glass—or in another place, somewhere she had never been—or lost in some sort of foggy dream or in an Impressionist painting. She heard Ling’s words, and tried to make sense of them by remaining quiet and detached. As she had always done when faced with a difficult situation, she insulated herself with complicated numerical equations, logarithms, and other mathematical calculations and formulae. It was how she protected herself from things that were painful.

  “I always followed how you were and what you were doing; I needed to know,” Ling told her. “You were a part of me. I simply couldn’t let you go. So I knew very early on that you were special—and that you had special gifts—talents.”

  The mother and daughter sat together rediscovering each other and defining their love for one another in a way that is only possible when one has suffered such a heart-breaking loss, and then had that loss restored and the broken heart mended. “Your father was such a kind man,” Ling said, “and he loved you from the moment he knew about you. He was looking into how he might legally take you out of the orphanage, but there were complications with there being two countries involved, two cultures, and also because all of the documentation had been sealed by my family. And then you were moved to Wood Rose. He died before he could finalize anything, but before that, he made sure you would always have everything you need—that you would be taken care of.”