The Dragon Men

by Steven Harper

  Li arrived at the bottom of the steps, followed by Phipps. Cixi noticed the way Lieutenant Li hovered over Phipps the same way a windup hummingbird hovered about a steel flower. Was either of them aware of it?

  With a dreadful crunching sound, the dragon spiraled around the final turn of the staircase. Spikes leaped out of the staircase to snap and ping off the dragon’s feet and underbelly. Alice, her arms and legs tucked in close, sat in the precise center of the seat behind the dragon’s head. It came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. Cixi backed away, holding the Ebony Chamber like a shield.

  “There,” Alice said through Lieutenant Li. “And now we don’t have to worry about one of the soldiers making a mistake.”

  “Lady Michaels can be . . . direct,” Lieutenant Phipps added.

  “I see.” Cixi’s fingers were white around the Ebony Chamber’s dark wood. “Is she aware that it will take one of the Dragon Men most of a week to repair all that? Not to mention the cost in silver?”

  “I doubt she’ll much care.” Phipps touched her monocle. “I imagine she would say something about taking the throne requiring a few sacrifices.”

  “That was funny.” Zaichun giggled. “She’s a dragon lady.”

  “Indeed,” Cixi said as Alice moved the dragon aside for the soldiers.

  “Are we going back home now, Mother?” Zaichun asked.

  “We are, Little Cricket,” she told him, tearing her eyes away from the damage. “You will destroy the cruel man who has stolen your father’s throne and take your rightful place upon it.”

  “Does that mean I’ll have to chop off my hand?”

  Cixi hesitated. “You won’t have to do it yourself, my lucky cricket. It will happen with such speed, you won’t even feel it. And then you will wear the Jade Hand and be emperor of all China.”

  “But . . . I don’t want my hand to be chopped off.”

  Anger flashed through Cixi, but she held herself in check. “I know you don’t. But I also know you are brave and that you are willing to make this sacrifice for the good of the empire.”

  Zaichun bit his lip, but he nodded once.

  “And,” Cixi added, “remember that the Jade Hand will allow you to command the Dragon Men. You can make them do whatever you want.”

  “Anything at all?”

  “Anything at all.”

  “Can I make them sing the yellow duck song and then jump into the moat?”

  While they were speaking, the rest of Lieutenant Li’s men came down the staircase. Nothing had gone truly wrong so far. If the Dao’s lessons were at all correct, that meant something would go terribly wrong later. Cixi shuddered to think what it might be.

  The tunnel was high and wide, big enough to accommodate a train. Phosphorescent lanterns glowed at regular intervals, casting a bright white and blue light that made a kind of daylight underground. The floor bricks were red and gold, and landscapes painted on the walls and ceiling changed the claustrophobic underground feel into a pleasant garden stroll. The colors looked perfectly normal despite the strangely colored lighting, and Cixi happened to know it had taken months of experimentation with pigment to figure out how to make a tree appear the proper shade of green when lit by phosphorescent blue. Under normal light, leaves would appear a sickly yellow.

  The group proceeded ahead. Cixi and the dragon remained in the lead, with Phipps and Li as translators. Cixi was already resolving to learn the dreadful-sounding English language. It couldn’t be hard, and it would certainly be convenient. Such thoughts were, she knew, deliberate distractions from fear of the task ahead. But that was the Chinese way—avoid, distract, delay. Confrontation was rare and difficult to deal with, and Su Shun’s gift for it had given him the upper hand. Cixi had found new allies, however, who were talented with it as well.

  They moved quickly down the damp tunnel. Alice still rode the dragon, though now she also brandished the wiry sword Gavin had made for her, while Li carried one of Gavin’s new pistols. Cixi carried only the Ebony Chamber. A moment later, about when Cixi judged they were under the moat, four tongueless eunuchs in pale robes and wide conical hats appeared. Cixi quickly snatched four more jewels from the Chamber, one for each, and explained the situation again.

  “These are my gift to you,” she finished, “and if—when—we succeed in our mission, you will be granted places of honor in the new court, and we will see if the Dragon Men can fashion new tongues of silver for you so that you may speak once again.”

  That last was a lie. As long as they knew of passage, they couldn’t be allowed to speak of it. Still, three of the eunuchs bowed their acceptance. The fourth began to make a bow, then changed his movements partway through and lunged for a bellpull.

  Li fired his new pistol. It spat a bolt of orange energy that caught the eunuch in the chest. It flung him backward, but not before he managed to grab the rope. He flew through the air, yanking the bellpull as he went, his chest a smoky mess. A gong sounded, and the smell of cooked meat sizzled in the tunnel. The other three eunuchs sprinted off down the tunnel.

  “Uh-oh,” Phipps said. “What did that alarm do?”

  “I don’t know,” Cixi said in a hushed voice.

  A section of wall rumbled aside, and from it stepped a metal creature the size of an elephant. It had the body of a tiger, the claws of a crocodile, the tail of an ox, the antlers of a deer, the beard and teeth of a dragon, and the scales of a fish. Many different kinds of metal came together to create it—bronze, brass, copper, steel, and even gold. Atop its head was a small glass dome, and inside was a pink mass of human brain.

  “Qilin!” Cixi cried.

  The Qilin prowled forward, moving with agility that belied its size. It barred their way ahead of the tunnel. The soldiers fell flat on their faces in terror. Cixi herself quivered, and Zaichun huddled against her. Cixi’s mother had told her a number of stories about the Qilin, a creature of power and grace that punished the wicked by roasting them in its fiery breath. The gods themselves smiled upon the Qilin, and only the dragon and the phoenix were more powerful.

  “Holy God,” Phipps said. Cixi didn’t know the language, but from her tone she guessed they were words of fear.

  Li fired his pistol at it. The orange bolt bounced off the Qilin’s metal hide and gouged a piece out of the painted tunnel wall. The Qilin turned and exhaled at him. Cixi smelled a terrible stench, then heard the click of a spark. Flame burst from the Qilin’s mouth.

  “No!” Phipps screamed.

  But Li was already moving. He dove straight toward the Qilin and slid under the flames on his belly to fetch up between the creature’s forelegs. Phipps snapped out her brass hand, and a coil of wire snaked from the palm. To Cixi’s amazement, it wrapped round the Qilin’s mouth. Phipps yanked, and the Qilin’s jaws snapped shut. Li scrambled to his feet, his movements slowed by the battery pack on his back. The Qilin reared back, and Phipps was pulled bodily into the air.

  Alice barked something directly behind Cixi. She jumped aside as the dragon with Alice behind its head galloped forward. The dragon was barely half the Qilin’s size, but that didn’t seem to faze Alice in the slightest. The wire sword, now glowing blue, was raised high above her head, and she shouted in English. Cixi didn’t know what to make of such a sight.

  Phipps slammed into a wall, but she managed to twist so her brass arm took the brunt of it. Still, she was clearly dazed. The Qilin wrenched its mouth open, snapping the wire. Li scrambled around underneath it in a desperate dance to avoid being crushed by its pounding feet. The dragon reared up. Alice swung the sword, and it described an azure arc. With a crack it intersected the Qilin’s shoulder. A chunk of metal fell out and crashed to the floor. The Qilin bellowed, the first sound Cixi had heard it make. It turned on Alice, who waved the sword and shouted again.

  The Qilin lashed out with a heavy paw. Alice tried to make the dragon dodge, but the Qilin was faster. Caught by the blow, the dragon crumpled like a paper lantern. Alice gave a scream as her automaton cr
ashed to the floor. Cixi put her hands over her mouth, frightened to death. Zaichun trembled behind her, and the soldiers remained motionless on the floor. The Qilin was overpowering. There was no way to defeat it. Lieutenant Li suddenly appeared again. He had abandoned his pistol and was climbing up the Qilin’s side, using the scales as handholds. He gained a position above the glass dome that housed the creature’s brain and raised both hands in a double fist. Cixi held her breath as he brought them crashing down on the glass.

  They bounced aside without even a scratch to show for it. The Qilin shook itself like a dog, tossing Li off like a flea. Cixi heard the hissing sound of its breath. The Qilin would incinerate them all, as it incinerated all sinners and doers of evil.

  Sinners. The Qilin—the creature from the fairy tales—punished only sinners. This one had been created by a Dragon Man and was controlled by a human brain, but—

  Cixi ran forward. “Wait, holy one!” She flung herself to the ground before the Qilin and knocked her head on the floor as if she were approaching the emperor. The stench of the gas made her dizzy. She held her breath and waited for the click and the terrible pain of the flames.

  Nothing happened. She risked a peek between the fingers that covered her face and saw the Qilin had stopped.

  “Holy one,” Cixi said, her heart knocking at the back of her throat, “we are not the sinners you seek. I am Lady Yehenara, Imperial Concubine to Emperor Xianfeng. Behind me stands Zaichun, his son, who was deposed by the evil Su Shun. We only wish passage into the Forbidden City so we may right a great wrong and put the rightful emperor on the Celestial Throne. I beseech you, holy one, forgive us our deeds here and grant the blameless young emperor permission to pass.”

  The dreadful stench continued. Cixi kept her face down and tried not to tremble. She was risking not only her life, but her son’s. Suddenly she wanted to hold him, embrace him as she hadn’t done since he was a baby. The Imperial Concubine did not show such affection to her son. Affection was a weakness that her enemies might exploit, and the only solution was to enforce a strict distance. But she felt it nonetheless, and right then she prayed hard to all her ancestors and any spirits that might be listening that the Qilin—or whatever brain that believed itself to be a Qilin—would see Zaichun as an innocent, someone who could not be harmed. Or, if they would not answer her prayer, at least take her life instead of his.

  The Qilin exhaled more gas. The stones rocked beneath Cixi’s head. She gave a soft moan and waited for the inevitable end. Then there was a creak of moving metal, followed by silence. Cixi peeked again. The Qilin had backed away and was now sitting to one side on its haunches.

  Cixi slowly got to her feet. The Qilin didn’t move. She ran to Zaichun, who was still standing paralyzed by the tunnel wall. For a moment she hesitated. Then she embraced him as a mother.

  “My Cricket,” she whispered.

  “Mother?” he said into her robe.

  She drew back. And how would she cut off his hand now? “We must see to the others.”

  The soldiers were all unharmed, of course, though somewhat embarrassed by their superstitious response. Alice struggled to free herself from the wreckage of the brass dragon. Two of the soldiers hurried to help. She was limping slightly and favored one arm, but her sword seemed undamaged. The dragon was a total loss. Other soldiers were rushing over to Lieutenant Li and Lieutenant Phipps. Li was completely unharmed, but Phipps staggered about, and Li insisted she lean on him. Her brass arm trailed the broken wire. Once she recovered herself, she held it out to Alice, who cut the wire off with the sword. Throughout it all, the Qilin didn’t move. It may as well have been a statue in the imperial gardens.

  “How did you convince it to do that?” Phipps asked.

  Cixi threw the Qilin a glance. “Go farther down the hall.”

  Everyone quickly marched past the creature. Its pink brain seemed to stare at them from within the little dome, and Cixi wondered to whom it had belonged. Once the creature was out of hearing range, Cixi said, “It seemed to me that any human brain put into a creature like that would either go mad or survive by making itself believe it truly was a Qilin. And the true Qilin punishes only sinners or doers of evil. I convinced it that we were neither one.”

  “That was quite a risk,” Alice said, flexing her wounded arm. “I have to say I am impressed, Lady Orchid.”

  “No more than I am impressed by the way you attacked it,” Cixi replied. “Tell me, do all Western women act like you and Lieutenant Phipps?”

  Alice gave a laugh at that, the first Cixi had heard from her—or any other foreigner, for that matter. How strange to hear, and to realize that foreigners could laugh, too. “Hardly. Though I wish more of us would.”

  From overhead came a thudding noise, as if a giant were stomping about. The vibrations traveled through the tunnel stones up through Cixi’s feet. She exchanged looks with Lieutenant Li and knew he was thinking the same thing—Su Shun was making the Dragon Men work long and hard into the night on the machines of war.

  They encountered two more sets of eunuchs, but all of them were amenable to the bribes Cixi offered them. In the end, they arrived at a pair of wide lacquered doors guarded by eight robed eunuchs. The doors, Cixi knew, opened into a false storage building not far from the Hall of Mental Cultivation, where the emperor lived. At this time of night, the streets of the Forbidden City would be largely deserted, but anyone who saw them would assume they had a right to be there.

  Before the eunuchs could raise the alarm, Cixi identified herself one more time, and each one accepted a priceless piece of jewelry.

  “I thought you said no one knew about this secret passage,” Alice said as Cixi closed the Chamber again. “At my count, at least twenty-two eunuchs know of it, not to mention whoever designed it, and the people who built it. Even people who can’t speak can communicate.”

  “Eunuchs hardly count,” Cixi said dismissively. “And the workers who built the passage are long dead. No one of importance knows of its existence.”

  The eunuchs grabbed the handles, and the doors creaked open. Standing in the opening was a platoon of soldiers with a variety of weapons drawn. At the head, his half-brass face gleaming in the light, stood Su Shun.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The man carried a small book and wore a long blue tunic over loose white trousers. He laid the book on a small table set with Oriental tea things next to the door and picked up a cup. The brass nightingale fluttered down to perch on his shoulder. “I was reading when you arrived, but now I think it’s time for tea. It’s a nice night to sit outside.”

  Gavin took a step forward, then another. He couldn’t stop staring. He stared so hard, his vision seemed to double, creating two men, one surrounded by water, the other reading by candlelight. The man was taller, but he and Gavin had the same white-blond hair, the same sky blue eyes. The nose and chin were different, and the man was broader in the chest and shoulders. His face was unlined, and he didn’t look more than thirty. Still, Gavin knew without a doubt this was his father.

  The soft rush of the streams flowed all around them. Gavin abruptly thought of the tarot card at the circus in Kiev. The card had shown a pale-haired man surrounded by water. The man on the card wore blue robes, and in one hand he held a chalice.

  “The King of Cups,” Gavin said. “You’re the King of Cups. From the card. Linda flipped you over like a paired particle, and now the pathways cross.”

  The man nodded, understanding. “I can see the clockwork plague got you. So yeah, we’re connected like pairs of particles. What slaps you slaps me, yep, yep. Nice to see you, kid. I guess I should say all the father things—how you’ve grown, how much a man you’ve become, how—”

  Gavin hit him. Or he tried to. His fist flicked out of its own accord, and the man moved aside just enough for the blow to miss. The little bird clung tightly to his shoulder. Fully angry now, Gavin punched again, a hammer blow to the chest, but the man blocked it with his forearm, again with just e
nough speed and movement. His cup shattered on the stones. Gavin followed with more blows—left, right, hook, chop. The man dodged or blocked each one. His face remained expressionless. The balanced fight went on for some time, until Gavin backed away, panting. The cloak that was his wings dragged at his back.

  “Sorry,” the man said. His voice was low and serene.

  “Damn you,” Gavin said, and his voice was equal parts rage and anger.

  “You’re pissed at me. You should be, kid. But maybe when you understand—”

  “You’re a fuck.” Gavin was spewing venom he hadn’t known he was carrying. “You abandoned me and everyone else, and why? So you could be a monk in China? I grew up missing you and hating and wondering what I did to make you leave. I don’t even know your name because Mom wouldn’t even say it. Understand? I understand. You’re lower than shit on a sewer snail.”

  He nodded. “Maybe we can grab a seat. The edge of the porch here is real nice for sittin’ and drinkin’ a little tea at night.”

  “What for?” He turned his back and looked out across the dark valley. Stars hard as jewels shone in a black ocean that threatened to swallow them. “Maybe I should just leave. I don’t think anything you say could make me happy.”

  “I’m sorry. Really.” The man came up behind Gavin and put a hand on his shoulder. At his touch, liquid gold flowed through Gavin. Warmth bathed him in a delicate river, carrying away fear and anger like so much flotsam and leaving his soul clear as glass. The man dropped his hand, and the feeling receded. The stones came back under his feet and the darkness pressed in, carrying the breath of trees and water. Gavin faced the man again. His wings flared.