The Empress's Tomb

by Kirsten Miller

  “Please accept my apologies,” Lester Liu pleaded. “The ghost usually reserves her punishments for me. I hope you will still consider my offer?”

  “Why don’t you hold your breath and see what happens.” Oona glowered as she grabbed her stole.

  “One more thing before you go?” Lester Liu put a hand on his daughter’s arm. “Your mother would want you to have this. It’s the only picture left of her.” He pulled a photo from the inside pocket of his jacket. I caught a glimpse of a pretty young woman in an old-fashioned dress.

  Oona snatched the picture from his hands and stormed out the door.

  “Where are you going?” I called, running to keep up with her as she headed straight for the street, one arm raised high in the air. A taxi on the other side of Fifth Avenue swerved across a lane of traffic and came to a halt in front of her.

  “I need to be alone.” Oona opened the door of the cab and jumped inside.

  “Wait …,” I started to say, but Kiki grabbed my arm, and I let the door slam.

  “Let her go,” she said, lifting her hand to hail a cab. We heard a shrill whistle from across the street. Sitting on the rock wall that rings Central Park was the wild boy.

  “That was fast,” Kaspar remarked as we approached. “Where did Oona go? Looked like she was in a hurry.”

  “She had a date with a dry cleaner,” I said. “She’s a very messy eater.”

  Kaspar accepted the explanation but didn’t pretend to believe it. “Did you see the snakes?” he asked.

  “They were on the menu,” Kiki told him. “Baby cobras in chili sauce. According to our host, they’re a delicacy in China.”

  I shuddered at the thought. “I’d rather eat dirt from a dog run.”

  Kaspar wasn’t amused. “Did you say cobras? Most cobras are endangered. You can’t buy them anywhere in New York. Did your host mention how he came by them?”

  “He said he imports them from Thailand,” said Kiki. “You should probably know that you’ve spent the past day and a half watching the home of one of the most infamous smugglers in New York. There’s nothing he wants that he can’t get.”

  “Why were you were having dinner with a smuggler?”

  “He wanted to introduce Oona to his ghost,” I said. “And no, I’m not joking.”

  For a boy with his own wild stories to share, Kaspar seemed remarkably surprised. “Who are you guys?” he asked. “You have maps of strange places. Smugglers invite you to dinner. And I don’t even know what to think about the ghost.”

  “It’s a long story for another time,” said Kiki. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing more of you. But now I’ve got to get home; a friend of mine is very ill.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.” He really did seem to be sorry. “May I ask one favor before you go?”

  “Sure,” said Kiki.

  “Please say hello to Betty,” said Kaspar. “And tell her I’m looking forward to dinner.”

  • • •

  As our taxi sped downtown, Kiki and I sat quietly. There was too much to talk about, and neither of us knew where to start.

  Finally Kiki sighed. “You smell really bad.”

  “I went a little overboard with the Fille Fiable right before we left. I ran into that creepy butler.”

  “You weren’t gone for long. Are all of your bugs in place?”

  “Yeah. There weren’t as many rooms to cover with the east wing blocked off. So do you think there’s really a ghost?”

  “I don’t know. Oona seems convinced.”

  “I feel sorry for her,” I said. “The dead mother she’s never met comes back from the grave and expects Oona to become an upstanding citizen.”

  “I didn’t buy that part. Lester Liu is after something. I just don’t know what it is. I wish I could think more clearly.” Kiki rested her head against the cab window and sank into silence.

  “Kiki?” I asked. “Is everything okay?”

  “Of course everything’s not okay. I just told you that Oona’s father has something up his sleeve.”

  “That’s not what I mean. You keep missing meetings or showing up late. It’s not like you. How sick is Verushka? Is there something I should know?”

  Kiki rubbed her eyes, smearing her mascara. She took a deep breath, and I realized she was inhaling Fille Fiable.

  “I made a stupid mistake,” Kiki admitted. “Verushka may be dying. And even if she doesn’t die, we’re both in a lot of trouble.”

  I was too shocked to cry. Too shocked to say anything other than, “Can I see her?”

  • • •

  Ten minutes later, I stood in the doorway of Verushka’s room, my feet refusing to move any farther. If it hadn’t been for the slow, steady rhythm of the heart monitor, I would have been the first to call an undertaker. Kiki knelt beside the bed, holding one of her guardian’s lifeless blue hands and brushing her hair out of her face. Verushka’s eyes fluttered and her lips moved. Kiki leaned in to listen.

  “I couldn’t keep it a secret forever,” she replied with a tremor in her voice. “Ananka was worried about you. The others would be, too, if they knew the truth.” Verushka weakly motioned for Kiki to bend forward so she could whisper in her ear.

  “I won’t tell her unless I have to, Verushka. I know you’re right. She needs to be able to deal with her father. And I’ll make sure she doesn’t get herself into trouble. It’s not going to be easy, though. Now there’s a ghost involved.”

  A middle-aged man in a white coat pushed past me and busied himself at a table, preparing a syringe of colorless liquid. He held the syringe to the light and tapped it to remove any air bubbles. A stream of liquid shot from the tip of the needle.

  “What are you giving her?” Kiki asked as the doctor inserted the needle into Verushka’s left leg. The old woman’s eyes fluttered and shut.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” the doctor replied.

  “I might,” Kiki insisted, standing up and fixing her eyes on the doctor. “I’m young, not retarded.”

  “Look,” he said, peering down imperiously at Kiki. “I have more than ten years of higher education. I’m not even sure you’ve been alive that long. So why don’t you stop pestering me and let me do my job. You hired me to save this woman, not to provide you with a medical degree.”

  Kiki’s eyebrow shot toward the ceiling. “Go ahead. Do your job. If you do it well, I’ll forget this conversation took place,” said Kiki. “But if anything happens to her, I’m going to hold you responsible.”

  The doctor rolled his eyes as Kiki stomped out of the room.

  “What a jerk,” I said once we were out of earshot.

  “I didn’t hire Dr. Pritchard for his bedside manner,” said Kiki. “He’s good and for the right price, he’s willing to keep his mouth shut. Unfortunately, I’m stuck with him.”

  “You’re not stuck with him. Let’s call an ambulance and get Verushka to the hospital.”

  “We can’t. I took her there last week. That was my big mistake. The doctors traced the problem to the bullet lodged in her leg. It was releasing cyanide into her system. I guess my aunt and her henchman had a backup plan. If the bullet didn’t kill Verushka, the poison eventually would.

  “When the doctors removed the bullet, I thought they’d saved her life. But then they reported the bullet wound to the police. When I caught a nurse taking Verushka’s fingerprints, I smuggled her out of the hospital. I thought she’d recover, but the improvement must have been temporary. The poison is still in her system. It’s killing her.”

  “If it’s so serious, why are you worried about fingerprints?” I asked.

  “Verushka is still wanted for my parents’ murder,” said Kiki. “And the proof of her innocence is in Pokrovia. Even if the hospital saved her life, she’d only end up in jail. I know Verushka. This is what she would want.”

  “Do you really think Dr. Charming can save her?” I asked.

  “Personality aside, he’s one of the best doctors in the city. I’
ve spent every penny we had to make sure he has everything he needs. I’ll probably have to make another kung fu film to pay the bills.”

  “No, you won’t,” I told her. “The rest of us will help. I still have the money I made from the Shadow City gold. It’s all yours.”

  “Thanks,” said Kiki, as our cell phones began beeping. A text message had arrived for each of us. “Golden Lotus. Tomorrow. Noon. Oona.”

  “You have bigger problems than Lester Liu,” I told Kiki. “Stay with Verushka until she’s better. I’ll take care of the meeting tomorrow.”

  • • •

  I crawled back through my window before the clock struck midnight. As I changed out of my fancy dress, I listened at the door of my room. My parents were still awake. I could hear the faint sound of angry German voices and the rat-a-tat of machine-gun fire coming from the living room. If they were relaxed enough to enjoy a movie, my activities must have gone undiscovered. Exhausted as I was, there was still one thing left to do before I lay down to sleep. I opened my door and tiptoed down the hall to the guest bedroom.

  At 11:00 the next morning, after my father had left for his Saturday study group, I approached my mother as she poured herself some coffee. As much as I would have liked to wait until she’d consumed her third or fourth cup, my mission couldn’t be postponed.

  “I need to go to the library,” I informed her.

  “Sure you do.” For someone fairly new to sarcasm, she was getting quite good at it.

  “I’m serious.” I held up my notebook and showed her the beginning of the essay Principal Wickham had assigned. “I’m writing an important paper on the Underground Railroad. It could keep me from getting an F in Mr. Dedly’s class, but we don’t have two of the books that I need to finish it.”

  My mother was bemused. “Our nineteenth-century American history books are in the closet in the guest bedroom. You know that. If you’re looking for something we don’t already own, I doubt you’ll find it at the library.”

  “We used to have the books, but they’re not there anymore. Dad must have taken them,” I said. “You know how he’s always loaning stuff out.”

  My father’s lending habits were my mother’s pet peeve. “Which books do you need?” she asked. I handed her a scrap of paper with two titles listed on it. “Let’s have a look, shall we?”

  I waited patiently for half an hour as my mother searched the guest bedroom closet. Unless she checked under my mattress, she had no hope of finding them.

  “I wish your father wouldn’t treat our house like the New York Public Library.” She finally sighed and consulted her watch. “You’ve got two hours, Ananka. If you’re not back by one thirty, I’m coming to get you. And you better be sure that I’ll make a scene.”

  • • •

  The Golden Lotus nail salon, ten blocks north of the library, was closed for business for the first time in over a year. A sign was clearly posted on the door, yet I arrived to find a woman in a mink coat and sunglasses peeking through the window, searching for signs of movement and finding it hard to believe that she might have to wait a whole day for a pedicure.

  “Excuse me,” she said in the same tone of voice she must have used when addressing other people’s maids. “Do you work here? Do you speak English?”

  I looked around, wondering if she might be talking to someone behind me. There was no one there. “No,” I informed the woman as I rapped on the door. “I don’t speak English.”

  “Do …you…give…man-i-cures?” she inquired, enunciating each word as if she were speaking to an idiot rather than a foreigner.

  “Can … you … read?” I asked, tapping at the closed sign on the door.

  The woman stood back in shock as DeeDee unlocked the door to the salon and let me in.

  “Go do your own nails,” I told the woman before I slammed the door behind me.

  • • •

  On the floor of the salon’s front room, a mosaic depicted an ancient Greek oracle lost in a trance. Luxurious manicure stations lined walls, and the chairs and tables were covered in crisp white linen. In the back of the building, at the end of a long row of waxing rooms, was Oona’s office. One of the doors in the narrow hallway stood open, and I caught a glimpse of Yu sleeping on a table.

  “He’s been working all morning,” DeeDee explained. “But he’s still a little weak. Oona made him take a nap.”

  “Oona put Yu to work? What’s wrong with her?”

  “No, Yu wanted to do something nice for Oona. He insisted. Wait till you see what he’s done.”

  “Did Oona tell you about last night?”

  “Yeah,” said DeeDee. “Creepy, huh? Luz is setting up her equipment. She’s got recordings from all the bugs. We’ll find out what Lester Liu is up to.”

  I opened the door to Oona’s office and stopped dead in my tracks. On the wall behind her desk was the top half of a mural that showed the six Irregulars engaged in a valiant battle with the rats of the Shadow City. The image looked so real that it might have been a photograph. I could even make out individual whiskers on each of the rats.

  “Yu painted this?” I asked. “He saw the rest of us only once. How did he remember our faces so well?”

  Oona shrugged. “I guess somebody kidnapped the most talented kid in Taiwan. He’s been painting Mrs. Fei’s portrait, too, and now she’s his biggest fan. It’s always Yu this and Yu that. It’s all so sweet that it makes me want to vomit. So is Kiki coming?”

  “She said she’d catch up with you later. So what do you think about last night? Is your dad still on the wrong side of the law?”

  Oona nodded. “I’ll admit he had me going for a while, but when I woke up this morning, I knew it was all a scam. The ghost, the mummy, the exhibit, everything. I can’t wait to listen to the bugs.”

  “Oona?” I said, my eyes suddenly drawn to the jewelry on her wrist. “Where did you get those bracelets?” She was wearing the same platinum cuffs she’d been admiring at Lester Liu’s house.

  “You mean these?” Oona asked, trying to make light of the situation. “They came by messenger this morning. I guess they’re my father’s way of apologizing for last night.”

  “You are going to return them, aren’t you?”

  “Who do you think you are—my probation officer?” snapped Oona. “I haven’t had time. Besides, who’s it hurting if I wear them around the office for a little while?”

  “You,” I said.

  “Okay, guys, I’m all set up, so postpone the catfight. We’re ready for business.” Luz Lopez had been watching from the hallway, with her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jumpsuit. She motioned for us to follow her into one of the waxing rooms, where her laptop computer was open on the table. Betty, acting as Luz’s assistant, handed out cordless headphones.

  “Betty and I went through all of last night’s feeds,” Luz said. “Most had nada. One kept recording a toilet flushing and a few other things you probably don’t want to hear. But we did get some interesting stuff. I’ll play the best part first.”

  Betty turned to Oona. “This might be hard for you. Are you sure you want to listen?”

  “Whatever it is, I can take it,” Oona assured her.

  We inserted the headphones into our ears and gave Luz the thumbs-up. The recording began suddenly with the sound of footsteps on a marble floor and what I imagined were ice cubes tinkling in a glass.

  “Thank you, Sukh.” It was Lester Liu’s exhausted voice. “That will be all for tonight.”

  “I apologize for the disturbances this evening, sir,” said the butler in his distinctive monotone.

  “You’re not to blame. How could I be anything but grateful to you? You’re the only servant who’s stayed. Such loyalty is rare in this world.”

  “It has been an honor, sir.”

  “That will be all, Sukh.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Luz fast-forwarded through several minutes of silence. The recording started again with the sound of a glass
shattering and a shriek.

  “Get back!” Lester Liu screamed. “Don’t come any closer.” In the background, I could hear panting—quick, shallow breaths like those of a rabid animal. It was the same sound I had heard in the mansion.

  “I tried!” he pleaded. “You frightened her away, but I tried. Don’t I deserve one night of peace?” The panting slowed and became labored, as if the creature were struggling to breathe. A wail started softly and rose to a deafening pitch.

  “Please,” begged Lester. “Please. I will do what I can tomorrow. I’ll do anything to stop this. Anything! No! No!” The last word was delivered at top volume and followed by the thump of a body hitting the floor. The recording stopped.

  “That’s pretty much it,” Luz explained. “The butler comes back and helps him to his room, but then there’s nothing more for hours. I can check the stuff that’s been coming in this morning, if you’re interested.”

  “I don’t need to hear any more.” Oona’s face was ashen, and her eyes mesmerized by the computer screen.

  “You know, Oona,” Luz began. “I can’t believe I’m going to suggest this. I mean, it goes against everything I believe as a scientist, but there may be someone who can help you.”

  “Who?” asked Oona.

  “My mother goes to see this guy. He’s a medium—you know, he says he can talk to dead people. Anyway, my mom’s convinced that he’s been in touch with her sister who died in Cuba fifteen years ago. I always thought it was a scam, but now I don’t know. It makes her feel better at least. It might help you to talk to him.”

  “Oh, come on, Luz,” I moaned. “You can’t be serious.”

  “Give me the address,” said Oona.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The Gifted One

  In Manhattan you can always tell a tourist by the angle of her head. Though most of the city belongs to the sky, New Yorkers rarely look up. We’re more likely to stare straight ahead as we shove through the crowds—or fix our eyes on our feet as we weave around steaming dog piles and treacherous subway grates. Most of us take the familiar for granted, but in a city like New York, nothing stays familiar for long. Those who don’t mind being mistaken for tourists will find gargoyles leering down at them, cat burglars inching across ledges, or window washers dangling from thin metal wires. All it takes is the curiosity to stop and see the world from a different perspective.