The Dragons of Heaven (6 page)

My dim sum buddies set their tripods down, one between each cage, spreading the light more evenly. How annoying. One of the robed men set down a folding card table. The other two set down a large plastic tub and started pulling out props: a cloth to cover the table, a red banner with “
Fan q'ing – fuk ming
” in black letters, a red tupperware bowl filled with rice, a stack of robes that they started handing out to the others while the first robed man arranged candles, and other props on the makeshift altar.

Must be the Incense Master, the official sorcerer for the Shadow Dragon Triad. I slid along the wall, dragging the shadows with me, and leaned in to get a better peek at his box of supplies, but I didn't see a knife or anything key-like. So much for hoping.

One of the assistants turned at a command from the Incense Master, nearly bumping into me as he put the depleted pile of robes on the edge of the table. I lurched back to avoid a collision, my hand knocking one of the lantern tripods. Not hard, just enough to make one of the legs grate against the cement floor and set the lamp to swinging. The apprentice, the Incense Master, and several others looked in my direction. I pulled back deeper into Shadow, far enough that I could hear the howling of the Shadow Realms like a rush of blood between my ears, and feel the tug of a hundred questing tendrils. It was like standing on a steep slope. I struggled to keep my footing, to not fall back completely. I could escape there, but I'd almost rather try my luck against two dozen triads. Most of them looked pretty harmless. There's nothing harmless about the Shadow Realms.

Before anyone could investigate further, the chow started barking. The red hawk stirred, flapping her wings and screeching. The snake hissed, which wasn't much in the way of sound and fury compared to his companions, but a nice try nonetheless. The din echoed loud enough to burst eardrums in the confines of the basement.

Johnny sat up. That got everyone's attention. I slid away from the altar and back behind the snake's cage.

“Where is Lao Chan?” Johnny asked, as pleasant as if he hadn't been drugged, kidnapped, and warded into a cage. Nobody could pull off cool like Johnny.

Nobody except Lao Chan.

“I am here.” Even the dog and the hawk – and the snake – quieted as the
Shan Chu
of the Shadow Dragon Triad spoke from the hallway.

He wore robes open over his charcoal suit. They were blue and black, heavy with embroidered dragons. A wide sash wrapped around his waist, a sheathed knife hanging down from it.

Score! Now to get to him.

Another tripod blocked my way. It wobbled as I squeezed past. Without getting caught, I amended. The hawk flapped and screed unhappily. The chow paced, growling and snapping at the nearest men. Johnny kept talking as I inched along the wall to the opening where Lao Chan stood.

“There appears to be a misunderstanding. Someone drugged me and left me – all of us – in these cages. I am honored that you have come to rectify the matter yourself,
Shan Chu
.”

I'd never heard Johnny play the self-effacement game. This was the guy who prided himself on out trash-talking twelve-year-olds on XBox Live. Lao Chan didn't seem to notice anything off about it. He left the hallway, approached Johnny's kennel.

Damn. I backtracked past the wobbly tripod and behind the snake's cage. If I could get to Lao Chan, I could get to the knife, no problem. I'd filched off harder targets than him.

If I could get to him.

“There has been no misunderstanding. I am sorry for your discomfort,
Sifu
. You and the other Guardians.” He bowed to each cage in turn. “But you will all see that this is for the good of Chinatown. For our protection.”

“Then why did you not ask?” snapped the dog. One man yelped and the others backed away from her cage.

Noobs. Even I understood that the guardians weren't normal animals.

Which was why, when one of the robed acolytes interrupted the standoff with a wary, “Shan Chu, Xuan Wu is doing something,” I was smart enough not to look in the snake's direction to see what that something was.

Most of the others were not that smart. They craned their necks to see around their fellow triads. One by one, their jaws grew slack and their eyelids sagged half-closed. They started to sway back and forth, heads bobbing in time with the snake's.

Except Lao Chan, who still faced Johnny. Perfect distraction. I crept closer, but still not close enough. Thanks to the lanterns, the shadows didn't extend to the center of the room. I'd have to come out. Expose myself.

“Tell Xuan Wu to stop,” Lao Chan said. Johnny gave a one-shouldered shrug and resumed his sitting position. I crept around the back of his cage, so I'd be on the right side for the swipe. Everyone except Lao Chan was entranced now, swaying in time with the snake like some beginning belly-dancing class.

Lao Chan checked his watch and sighed. “I wish you would be more cooperative,
Sifu
Cho
,
but as you will not.” He reached over to the table, nearly punching me in the chest as he grabbed an unused robe.

No time for much finesse. I reached out into the light and yanked the knife free. Flipped it one handed, ran my thumb across the blade and slammed the blooded knife and my hand against the mesh of Johnny's kennel. Heat and light flashed, enough to make Lao Chan and I both flinch away. I sank back into the shadows, ready to flee into the Shadow Realms if this didn't work out.

The flare of light dimmed, revealing an empty kennel. I'd been training with Johnny long enough that I knew what to expect next.

Lao Chan did not. He
urked
with surprise when Johnny appeared behind him and caught him up in a body hold. While Lao Chan struggled, Johnny jerked his head at me.

Get the others. Right.

The flash of light had broken the mass hypnosis induced by the snake. Several of the younger, fitter attendees threw off their robes and lowered into fighting stances. Johnny turned and backed up, using Lao Chan like a shield.

“Now. Why don't you explain to me how this is for the good of Chinatown?”

Lao Chan ignored the question. “Somebody else is here. Helping him. Find h–
urk!
”

I couldn't go back the way I'd come, so I continued around the room, slamming the knife against the hawk's kennel. I would have preferred the chow, now barking herself hoarse, but the bird was the next in line. Another flash of light, and she was free. She blinked out of her cage and reappeared above the line of fighters advancing on Johnny and his captive. She swooped down at them like Hitchcock's best extra. They raised their arms to shield their faces and eyes from her talons. One dared to swat at her. A beat of those great wings, a sickening crack, and the man was on the floor, clutching his arm to his chest.

I used the distraction to circle to the chow's cage, sacrificing stealth for speed. Bad call. Someone caught my arm as it emerged from shadow and used my surprise and their momentum to slam me back against the wall.

David Tsung. He peered through the concentrated shadow, eyes widening as though he could see my face.

But that should be impossible. The shadows should have made that impossible. Shouldn't they?

No time to worry. I opened up that ever-present conduit to the Shadow Realms, and pseudopods of darkness erupted from the wall behind me, suckered like octopus tentacles. They lashed around Tsung's arms and legs; he released me with a shout. I ducked out of the way, and the pseudopods slammed him into the wall, once, twice, as though they were trying to drag him back with them. A third time, and he went limp. The pseudopods slid back into the wall until they were only shadow again, one of them giving me a little wave as it disappeared.

I hate it when the shadows get cheeky. Like I need the reminder that there's some kind of sentience there.

David Tsung slid to the floor, his groans attracting the attention of several triads who weren't dealing with Johnny or the hawk. What I needed was another distraction. I slammed the knife against the mesh of the chow's kennel.

There is no skirmish that won't be made more confusing by the addition of a large, barking dog. Especially when that dog can grow to the size of a pony, with jaws as wide as a great white's and teeth to match.

Utter pandemonium. I slid over to the snake's cage and pressed the knife to it. The flash of light was almost anticlimactic amid the chaos caused by the other guardians and the flailing triads.

“Let's get you out of here. Follow me.” The snake slithered back to the box-filled hallway. I skulked behind, casting a glance over my shoulder.

“Shouldn't we help?”

Though it didn't look like Johnny and friends needed much help now that they were free. The Triads did, but I wasn't inclined to assist them.

“This is Chinatown business,” said the snake, leading me up the stairs. The fire door swung open of its own accord. “You should stay out of it.” And then he slithered back down the stairs to rejoin the fight.

Ungrateful little hisser.

I
waited
out on the street, but Johnny didn't follow me out; he didn't have to. As Guardian of Chinatown, he had the run of the place. Literally. He could tap in to the ley lines, or whatever it was he used, and be wherever he wanted to be within the confines of the Dragon Gates. It was akin to my connection with the Shadow Realms. Except a lot cooler. And safer.

So I went back to the
kwoon
, let myself in, and waited.

It was a long wait. I tidied the equipment area, frightened dust-bunnies out from under the free-standing lockers, and tried to meditate, which had the opposite effect of what I was going for and just set me to pacing. Outside, it grew dark.

It was a
very
long wait, but that didn't stop Johnny from starting in as soon as he arrived. He burst through the door and came storming into the practice space.

“You are a special kind of stupid, Missy Masters. What were you about, coming after me? Did you even have a plan?”

I gaped. Yelling was not what I'd expected, but I held my ground, ignoring the way he loomed over me. Johnny intimidated the hell out of me, but that was a matter of power and skill: he had more. Chest thrusting didn't cut it with me. I had more. Barely.

“The plan was reconnaissance. I didn't come after you. I was following some kids who turned out to be the lantern-carrying fellows. Didn't have much else do to, since you didn't show up for practice this morning. You're welcome by the way.”

Now he remembered to be a little gracious. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Thank you.”

“Better.”

“Even though I'm not sure you bumbling in and freeing us was the best thing.”

“Why? What did you learn from Lao Chan?”

“I didn't learn anything from him, except that he's even more pissed at you now.”

“Me?” Shit. David Tsung had recognized me somehow.

“Mr Mystic. That's who he thinks was there.” Johnny turned from me, putting away the mop and broom I hadn't gotten around to storing myself. Classic stalling tactic. He wasn't going to share anything else.

I grabbed his arm. “Johnny, will you just tell me what's going on?”

The universe was determined to deny me the answer to that question. A crash from the street interrupted us, followed by a siren, and the whistle and crack-boom of fireworks.

“What the hell?” Johnny pushed past me and drew the shade on one of the narrow, floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the street-facing wall of the
kwoon
. I followed and peered over his shoulder.

Hell was right. People flooded out into the streets, draped out of upper-story windows, and called at each other in a babel of dialects.

The crash was easily explained. Some enterprising souls were getting their loot on. The window of the big souvenir emporium across the street had been shattered into Spiderglass, several men emptying the contents of the emporium into shopping carts with all the organization of a fire brigade. Not local boys, if the hair nets and wife-beaters were anything to go by. And besides, the store had to be under Triad protection. Nobody local would dare touch it.

Still, what the hell did they think they were going to do with piles of colorful brocade silks? Give them to their mothers and sisters and aunts as Christmas gifts?

I peered up at Johnny. “You want me to meet you down there or just wait up here? There's a lot of them.”

“Might as well head down. We need to find out what's going on after I school those punks.”

Johnny closed his eyes, and I took a step back. Both gestures were unnecessary to what came next, but they gave it the proper gravitas.

Except… nothing happened.

“Johnny?” Johnny
should
have been able to pop away from the studio and rise up from the pavement below for his planned pwnage. Unless something was wrong.

“Something is wrong.” Johnny's whisper echoed my thoughts. “China is… not there.”

I stumbled back another step. “What? How? Why?” Impossible!

“My connection. It's just… glancing off. Like there's something in the way.” Another crash rose from the street, followed by a woman shouting. We both looked. Doris Han had emerged on the stoop of the Dragon's Pearl to harangue the boys across the way. The boys circled up and stalked toward her, which broke Johnny and I both out of our shock.

“Later. We can figure this out later.” He hopped out the window and dropped down the fire escape to land between the looters and Doris.

“You know the stairs aren't just there for decoration,” I called, and then followed him down the fire escape.

There were too many men for them to be impressed by our acrobatics, but Doris was happy to see us. She backed up into the Pearl's doorway as the looters shifted to face Johnny and me.

“You got a problem, Mr Miyagi?” A Virgin Mary tattoo wept on the muscled forearm of the speaker. I winced as he cracked his neck left and right. Awful sound.