Zhai followed Maggie into the room and found Master Chin sitting with Mrs. Anderson, taping a fresh bandage on her arm.
“Zhai, I’m glad you came,” Master Chin said as Zhai entered the room. He finished securing the bandage and then stood and went to Zhai, speaking quickly. Whatever was going on, Zhai knew, it had to be urgent.
“Look at the tapestry with me,” Chin said, steering him toward the large expanse of fabric suspended within a wooden frame. It was a large swatch of heavy, off-white cloth, and about half of it had a scene embroidered onto it; the rest was blank. Chin pointed to the bottom right-hand corner of the tapestry, which had been completed, and Zhai’s gaze followed his gesture. The scene depicted a person lying face down in a pool of what looked to Zhai like real blood that had soaked into the canvas.
“This scene in particular,” Chin said. “I think it might have recently taken place—or it’s about to. Have you seen anything like this? Or heard about anyone injured recently?”
“No,” Zhai said, studying the picture. Staring at the image seemed to evoke a swirling of Shen energy, like a cold ball deep within his chest cavity. It wasn’t the normally warm, life-affirming Shen he was used to experiencing. This feeling, he was sure, was a warning—or a premonition.
“What about the rest? What does it bring to mind?”
Zhai squinted at the part of the tapestry just above the fallen person. It appeared to depict a different scene, this one of a darkened space with a bright, arched doorway leading out of it. In the center of the dark space there was a ring-shaped object—it looked solid at first, but upon closer inspection, it appeared as if it was broken and had been pieced back together.
As Zhai stared at it, the dark room on the tapestry suddenly seemed to shift, and his eyes picked out a pattern of threads that were a slightly lighter shade of black than the others. He was able to make out the outline of a person who floated, ghost-like, above the ring. The figure was featureless, but Zhai could see that it had broad, masculine shoulders and long hair. Raphael, he thought instantly. As his eyes traced downward, he noticed something else that hadn’t jumped out at first glance: a subtle pattern at the bottom of the embroidered room that looked like crossed railroad tracks.
“It’s Raphael,” Zhai said quietly. “Or his ghost. And it looks like he’s in the old rail tunnels, at the Wheel of Illusion. The ring is there too, and it’s been put back together. It’s like . . . like it’s making him materialize.”
Master Chin nodded eagerly. “I thought so too,” the sifu agreed. “Do you still have your shard of the ring?”
“Yes,” Zhai said.
“Meet me outside the east tunnel at noon tomorrow, and bring it with you. If you can get any other shards, bring those too—and I’ll bring mine as well. Perhaps there is still enough Shen in them to spark the Wheel back to life.”
“You think that’s what this means? That if we get the shards back together we’ll be able to bring Raph back from wherever he is?”
“I don’t know,” Master Chin said darkly. “But I think it’s important that we try.”
“Okay. Noon,” Zhai agreed.
“I’m coming too,” Maggie said quickly, and the guys both turned around and looked at her.
Zhai glanced at his sifu, expecting him to contradict her, but instead he said, “Good. Zhai will pick you up.”
It seemed like a surprising turn of events, until Zhai remembered the blast of Shen that Maggie had unleashed during the last battle at the tracks—the one that had sent the Obies’ Black Snake God flying. She had been wearing her homecoming queen crown, and some kind of energy had seemed to flow from it, and through Maggie, with incredible force. With power like that, no wonder Master Chin wasn’t too worried about her safety. Besides, Maggie had taken part in all the searches for Raphael so far. Zhai didn’t know why, but she seemed just as eager to find him as any of the Flats kids were. If she wanted to come along, Zhai would be glad to have her.
He glanced at his watch. “I’d better go,” he said. “I’m ten minutes past curfew. After Li’s illness and then my disappearing with those Black Snake guys, my parents get pretty jumpy when we’re late these days.”
“Zhai—one more thing,” Master Chin said as he gazed at the bloodstained cloth. “Keep your eyes open for this injured person, whoever he is. If there’s any way you can, try to prevent it from happening. I fear that once this event takes place, there will be no stopping what will follow.”
“And what’s that?” Maggie asked.
“Middleburg’s darkest destiny,” Chin replied.
* * *
Nass had been lying on the floor of the windowless interrogation room for hours, drifting in and out of sleep. This time when he woke up, however, something was different. There was warm air blowing on his face, and he could hear voices. They sounded like they were echoing to him from far away, but he could hear them clearly. It only took him a moment to determine that the two voices belonged to Agent Hackett and Detective Zalewski.
“Listen,” Z was saying. “These kids are full of crap. You saw their statements. They read like the freakin’ Lord of the Rings.”
“Thank you, detective, but I’ll decide that for myself,” Hackett replied, his voice icy calm.
“These kids are scum, agent. The dregs of Middleburg. We’re talking broken homes, alcoholic parents, flunkin’ out of school, getting into fights. They’d say Martians landed in Hilltop Haven if they thought it would get them off the hook for something. Their stories are nonsense.”
“Are they? What if I were to tell you that the National Ocean and Atmospheric Administration satellites registered a massive energy disturbance in this region at the exact time these kids are claiming their friend disappeared in an explosion? Would you still say they are all liars, detective?”
“Well, okay, sure,” Z stammered. “We noted some trees had been knocked down in the area. You’ll see that in the reports. Probably some stupid teenager’s cherry bomb or something. What does this have to do with your case, anyway? I thought you said this was a manhunt.”
Hackett’s voice lowered in volume, so that Nass had to inch toward the source of the sound in order to hear him.
“Detective, I’m sure you’ve heard in the movies where a spy says, ‘I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you’? Well, I’ll tell you this, but it’s absolutely classified. So if you repeat it to anyone . . .”
“Understood,” Z interrupted gruffly. “I just want to be in the loop so I can cooperate with you, Agent Hackett, that’s all.”
There was a pause and then Hackett continued. “The guy we’re looking for is a Chinese secret agent, specializing in advanced energy generation and weapons system technology. He works completely off the grid, and his men are insanely loyal. According to our reports, they operate almost like a cult. Now as lovely as Middleburg is, I don’t think Feng Xu and his agents are here looking to take a five-star Kansas vacation.”
“So what are they after?” Z asked. “It’s not like we have any advanced energy generation equipment or weapons systems in Middleburg—do we?”
“That’s what I intend to find out, detective. One thing all these kids’ stories have in common is some treasure—a ring—that exploded, releasing so much energy that it was detected from space. Whatever it was, it sounds like it vaporized this Raphael Kain kid. And before this ring surfaced, Chinese agents were combing the town looking for it. I think you can connect the dots.”
“So . . . what? You stopped the demolition in the Flats because you think the ring is still hidden there someplace?”
“My mission isn’t to find the ring,” Hackett said. “The witnesses all say it was destroyed in the blast, anyway. All I care about is capturing Feng Xu. He’s clearly here because he’s after something. Maybe it’s some technology associated with the ring, maybe something els
e. Whatever it is, I won’t allow one scrap of evidence to be destroyed until I’ve got him. That means nothing gets bulldozed, nothing gets renovated, and no one leaves town. I’ve already got more men en route, and we’re setting up checkpoints on all roads in and out of Middleburg.”
“What about the Flats kid?” Z asked.
“I’ll worry about him. Your job is now PR. As the investigation unfolds, residents are going to call with questions. Your job is to BS them until they stop asking. Got it?”
“Whatever you say, Wade. I’m a team player.”
Nass heard a groan of chairs scraping across the floor, as if both men had stood up from a table. A second later, he heard the door open, and Agent Hackett entered and flipped on the lights.
Nass looked over and saw where the voices had been coming from: there was a hot-air vent in the floor right next to the spot where he’d passed out. The voices must have traveled to him through the heating duct. He was glad he’d heard the conversation, but he still wasn’t sure what to make of it—or what it would mean for him now.
Hackett sat down in the room’s only chair once again and calmly flipped through a file as Nass sat up and squinted at him, his vision adjusting to the sudden glare.
“What time is it?” he asked.
Hackett ignored the question. “The statements of several witnesses mention a glowing ring of some kind that was seen on the night that Raphael Kain disappeared.”
“Yeah, there was a ring,” Nass confirmed.
“And where is it now?”
“It disappeared. In the explosion.”
“Where there any remains? Any pieces of it left lying around?”
The knowing flared once again, an overwhelming feeling that urged Nass to keep silent. He could tell the truth about everything else, but something told him that telling this guy about the ring shards would be a bad idea.
He shrugged. “My friends and I walked all over those tracks while we were looking for Raphael. Maybe it vaporized.”
“Or maybe those Obies picked up whatever was left of it?”
“Maybe,” Nass said. “After the explosion I never saw the Obies again.”
Hackett’s shrewd gaze lingered on Nass for a long moment before he spoke again. “You remember that picture I showed you?” he said finally. “I expect you to let me know if you see that man or any of his minions again. I know you and your pals are out running the streets all the time. Keep me posted, all right?”
He handed Nass a plain white business card. It had his name printed on it, Agent Wade Hackett, and a phone number—nothing else.
“You help me out, I can be your best friend. If not, not. You feel me, Ignacio? Do we understand each other?”
“Yep. Got it,” Nass said, unable to restrain his irritation any longer. “Can I go now, please? I have a date. It is Valentine’s Day, you know.”
Hackett chuckled, glancing at his watch. “Not anymore, it isn’t,” he said.
* * *
Dalton sat on the edge of her bed, staring at a picture of herself and Nass from the Middleburg High School annual play. It was slightly warped from the spots where her tears had hit it, but it was dry now. She had finished crying a long time ago.
She heard her grandmother’s gentle knock at the door and looked up.
“Just wanted to say goodnight, sweetie,” Lily Rose said, peering around the edge of the doorframe. She moved to walk away, and then paused. “Don’t you worry, sugar. Nass is a good boy. If he stood you up, I expect he had a good reason.”
Dalton forced a sad smile. “He always does,” she said.
She knew exactly what her grandmother was saying: be kind, be patient, forgive and forget. But those were just words. Actions were what mattered. Nass had blown her off for Clarisse at the homecoming dance, and now he’d stood her up on Valentine’s Day. Of course she wanted to be forgiving, as her grandma always urged her to be. But she also knew that she deserved a guy she didn’t have to forgive all the time. And she was afraid she’d have to accept the heartbreaking fact that Nass wasn’t that guy.
Her grandmother’s sigh seemed to contain enough sympathy to match the pathos Dalton was feeling—and then some.
“Goodnight, little girl of mine. See you in the morning shine,” she said.
“’Night, Grandma,” Dalton said. And with a heavy heart, she reached over and turned out the light.
Chapter 4
By the time Nass reached the door of his family’s apartment building early Friday morning, the faint, pale glow of dawn was illuminating the eastern horizon.
Great, he thought. His mother was an early riser, and their apartment was tiny. There was no way he could sneak in unnoticed. And missing curfew on Valentine’s Day (especially since it was a week night) would probably give him an even steeper penalty than usual—maybe even a speech about responsibility, unplanned pregnancy, and traditional Catholic values. Explaining that he’d spent the night at the police station would result in another round of lectures. And that was nothing compared to the punishment he would receive soon, when he got to Middleburg High and got hold of Dalton. Nass braced for the onslaught to come as he stepped through the door and found his mother seated at the kitchen table, head bowed, and gazing pensively down into her coffee cup. Softly, he closed the door behind him and she looked up, her eyes wild with worry and red, as if she’d been crying.
He sighed. This wasn’t going to easy; he might as well just be direct. “Don’t get mad,” he began. “I can explain where I was . . .”
But she stood and rushed eagerly to him. “Oh, ’Nacio! I heard, honey. How is he?” She seemed gravely concerned.
Nass was confused. “How is who?”
“’Nacio, this is no time for jokes. Myka’s mother said he’s in critical condition!”
Instantly, Nass’s mind leaped to Raphael. Had they found him while Nass was at the police station? Was he hurt? Sick? Two feelings struck him at the same time—excitement that his friend and leader might be back and dread at what his mother had said: he’s in critical condition.
She was still talking. “Is it true? She said they added a critical-care unit to the little hospital at Benton and they’re going to keep him there until he stabilizes. You’re such a good friend for spending the whole night with him. Was everyone else there, too?”
Nass felt numb. His mind wheeled wildly as he tried to process what had happened. “I need the car. I need to go there,” he said.
“You want to go back to the hospital?” she said. “Oh, dear God—it must be really bad! Of course—go, mijo. Go!”
Nass grabbed the keys off the hook by the door.
“Tell his family we’re praying for them. And drive carefully!” But Nass barely heard her words as he raced out the door and down the steps.
* * *
Friday morning, Aimee gazed out the car window at the gray wintery streets of downtown Middleburg as Orias went through his almost daily ritual of convincing her that she had to go back to school.
“Your father wants you there at least four days a week from now on,” he scolded her sweetly as they drove along Main Street toward Middleburg High.
She turned and made a little face at him. “Why?” she asked. “I can’t learn anything there that you can’t teach me. Anyway, I’m keeping up—turning everything in on time.”
“He has laid down the law, it seems,” Orias told her. “I think he’s concerned about your reputation.”
“If he only knew. I’m safer with you than in a convent.”
“He does know. He’s worried about what other people think. And he wants you to spend some time at home this weekend.”
“Again—why?” she asked.
“He said he has something important to talk to you about—and Monday, he’s having a big dinner party that w
e’re both invited to. He said he’s going to make some kind of big announcement.”
Aimee groaned. “I can hardly wait,” she said, her tone touched with sarcasm.
Orias pulled his Maserati into the student lot and put it in park. “You should probably get a ride with Rick after school and check in at home,” he said.
“No, pick me up, please. Don’t leave me with my brother—he’s getting creepier by the minute,” she said. “Or I can just slip.”
“We’ve talked about that, Aimee” he reminded her. “Someone could see you. I’ll pick you up.”
“Won’t you be busy with the contractors over at Elixir?”
“Never too busy for you.” He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. “See you later then. But give your dad a call and let him know, okay? You’ll have to see him sometime.”
Aimee took a deep breath, as if preparing herself to face an enemy, and got out of the car. Watching her head for the auditorium’s side entrance, Orias hoped she would look back—but he knew she wouldn’t. He wondered if she forgot him as soon as he was out of sight.
That didn’t matter, as long as she forgot Raphael Kain.
He didn’t know how much longer he could dose her with the tea. Oberon, his father, had told him once that drinking too much of it over an extended period of time could drive a human insane.
Orias uttered a low curse, annoyed. He should have let her go by now—sent her back to her father or gotten rid of her in some other way. Once the crystal ring exploded and lost its glorious power, she was of no more use to him.
But, he had told himself, since she had been the one destined to retrieve the ring, perhaps she could help in his bid to permanently take over his father’s holdings and assume control of the Dark Territory. Aimee Banfield was part of it—part of the whole tapestry. The Big Picture. She still had an important part to play in it all—and once he figured out what it was he would be able to make a new plan to take his father’s holdings, and his power, for good and forever.
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