by Raven Bond
“There is not much to tell,” the storyteller with a dismissive wave of his hands. “The gang is all women and girls save for Mike. They say that Mike rescues the cast-offs and has them stealing up in the posh parts of the city.”
“‘Why would such need someone familiar with the Devil Magic?” Jinhao wondered aloud.
“Oh, that is easy to tell,” the storyteller said eagerly. “Mike is running up against Jimmy the Horse. Jimmy wants Mike’s territory. It so happens that Jimmy has a young Quizi who can make the fire magic to burn his enemies to death,” the storyteller shrugged. “You know the old saying, bring Devil Magic to fight Devil Magic.”
“And where might Mike’s gang be found?” Jinhao asked.
The storyteller grinned, miming a motion of counting coins on his hand. Jinhao repressed a very un-lady like response, and instead opened the silk pouch and tossed a small coin towards him. The coin vanished in a flash of gold.
“More when you tell me more,” she said shortly. “And you had best make sure there is not something you forget.”
Bowing, the storyteller gave her directions which she noted. She made purse disappear with a flicker of her fingers, and left the alleyway as quickly as she could. By the time the storyteller looked up, Jinhao had vanished into the crowd.
Chapter 13
Upon hearing the address of the gang, Jinhao retired to a different bolt hole to wait for dark. This particular one was located beneath the cellar of a dockside wine shop. She play-acted the part of the rich lady who was obviously very fond of the shop’s wares, disguising herself with a careful walk and a veiled face. Such sights, Jinhao knew, had become all too common during the reign of the Dowager Empress as more women and men sought to ease their suffering with too much wine. The refuge itself could only be entered by a cleverly hidden door that was concealed among the wine barrels. Jinhao paid the owner a sizable sum to simply forget that the room existed.
She pulled back the veil with a sigh of relief as the door closed behind her. Moving by feel, she found the crystal-like Mage light in its alcove, and pressed the sigil that cause it to fill the room with light. She looked around, well satisfied with what she saw.
The room was small, barely wider than the cot-like bed that took up most of it. She didn’t need more. Various compartments along the walls held a variety of tools, weapons, clothing and so on. She had created this and other hiding places when things had been more turbulent in her life. Shucking the heavy silk outer robes, she reclined on the cot, grateful for her foresight.
Jinhao calculated that she might as well wait for the aid of nightfall before breaching the gang’s base. There were three possibilities she decided, either Owen was alive and she would rescue him, he was not there, in which case she continued her search, or the gang had killed him already. In the latter case, there would be many fewer gang members she vowed, far fewer. Given these conditions, approaching at night was the best option for her to take. She settled down on the bed preparing to nap.
Her internal clock woke her some time later. She knew the sun had gone down. After eating and attending to various other needs, she opened up a storage space hidden in the wall. Here was a full set of all the weapons that an Imperial Adept might use, as well as a set of black clothing. Carefully she dressed, further entering the special state of mind with each article she donned that would enable her to call upon the Qi powers of the Adept. She spared a moment to silently give thanks to her teachers, now dead, who had given her such control and power.
Finishing, she moved like a ghost out of the room and back into the wine cellar. Jinhao chose to take advantage of an unused coal chute to reach the outside unseen. There, she quickly climbed up to the thieves’ highway. The night was clear and warm. Jinhao traveled the distance to the gang’s home quickly and without incident, exulting one again in the freedom of the rooftops.
Jinhao stopped at a building across from the old factory where the gang was supposed to hide. Jinhao had to give them credit for if she did not know better, she would never have given the building another look. The sentries were well hidden and no hint of light or scent of cooking fire escaped the dark building. There was also no sign of Owen. She unslung a coil of rope from around her waist, preparing to cross and enter the factory from above.
Stalking through the building, she discovered two unusual facts. One was that the inhabitants appeared to be all females. Jinhao spied no males whatsoever. The women she did discover were all young, and as near as she could tell were in charge of the gang. There did not seem to be a single one of them here that did not want to be. The second fact was that there were far fewer of them present than the number of rooms and possessions would indicate. Where was the rest of the gang? And more importantly, where was Owen? She heard the soft creak of a floorboard and spun around. She found herself facing a small girl with a large air pistol.
“No more sudden moves,” the girl said in clear Mandarin, “I do know how to shoot and will.” Jinhao measured the distance between them, calculating that she could easily disarm the waif before she fired. She allowed her body to appear to relax, holding up her hands.
“You have the advantage over me,” Jinhao said, speaking through the black gauze mask.
“Mike was right to worry about Jimmy sending someone like you to queer whatever deal they cut at the meeting.” The little girl hefted the pistol. “I will not allow that.”
“Wait,” Jinhao held up a hand. “What if I tell you that I know not who this ‘Jimmy’ is, nor do I answer to him?”
“Then what are you doing here?” the girl asked suspiciously. Jinhao noted with silent approval that the girl’s aim never wavered. Jinhao decided that she would win the girl over. She lowered her face mask.
“I am searching for a man,” she explained, “a British Sorcerer named Owen Strong. Have you heard of him?” Her young ambusher’s eyes widened.
“You’re a woman,” she gasped.
Jinhao decided that the moment of indecision would be enough. Moving at the speed only an Adept can, she disarmed the girl, throwing her against the wall, ending with the girl’s own pistol held under her chin.
“I asked,” Jinhao said carefully, “If you had heard of him.” Her ambusher glared at Jinhao.
“What could you possibly want with Sha-Tui anyway?” The young girl spat out. “I will tell you nothing! Kill me if you wish!” Jinhao smiled.
“Long legs?” she repeated at her captive. “I suppose you could call him that. So he is here.” Jinhao released the girl, tossing her gun back to her carelessly. “You can show me where he is.”
The girl deftly caught the gun, looked from it to Jinhao, and then lowered it, as if realizing how useless it was. Stubbornly, she shook her head.
“No?” Jinhao echoed sadly. “Then I shall have to find him myself.”
“Wait!” The girl exclaimed. “He is not here! He has gone with Mike and the others to meet with Jimmy the Horse! He had to go, as he hasn’t been Mary’s tutor long enough.”
“He went willingly?” Jinhao asked. The girl nodded. “He will return?’ She nodded again. “He is being someone’s tutor?” She nodded again. Jinhao regarded her. “What is your name?’
“Everyone calls me Mei,” the girl answered. She frowned at Jinhao. “The guest should declare her name first!”
“Guest am I?” Jinhao said bemusedly. The girl nodded even more definitely.
“You must be a guest of Sha-Tui,” Mei explained seriously. “That way you never needed to overcome the head sentinel of the base.”
“Ah,” Jinhao said. “And that sentinel would be you?”
“Of course!” Mei looked down at the gun in her hand. “You really promise that you are not here to harm Sha-Tui?”
Jinhao placed her hand over her chest. “I promise that I do not intend him harm”
“Alright,” The gun disappeared behind Mei’s back. She looked up at Jinhao. “What is your name? “
“You may call me Jinhao,” she said
solemnly. Jinhao held out her hand Western style. Mei gravely accepted it.
“There should be refreshments for the guest,” Mei offered. “We can find them downstairs, where we can wait for Mike and Sha-Tui to return.”
Jinhao smiled faintly. “I accept the hospitality of the house, and am honored. Lead on Head Sentinel Mei.”
Chapter 14
Owen hobbled forward across the floor of the restaurant. A wig, dark glasses and glued-on thick whiskers hid a multitude of his European sins. The restaurant that was the meeting place for the two gangs was run by a very oily-appearing old woman named Zhang, He wondered how she felt about two gangs of unruly and deadly street urchins taking over her restaurant. That they were deadly was clear from the way that the members of the two gangs had faced off against one another, faces grim, holding on to their makeshift weapons. Mike swaggered forward, placing a hand on a hip.
“So, it is good that you want to talk rather than fight,” Mike said. “You know who I am! I am Mike!” He folded his arms and waited with them crossed. A young man in a silk variant of the lower class’s tunic and wide pants stood forward. He had a scar that ran in a straight line down the side of his face from just below his right eye to his thin cruel lips.
“I only agreed not to fight so that not too many of my troops would suffer from broken nails or sprained toes,” he boasted. The youth cast an exaggerated glance over Mike’s line of gangers. The look changed upon seeing Owen but he recovered quickly. “I thought that I might as well treat you and your . . . gang,” his lip curled up into a sneer as he said it, “to some good food for a change. I am Jimmy the Horse!” He made a grab at his crotch. “Some of you will soon know why!” He ignored the way the women of Mike’s line murmured angrily, holding their weapons tighter. Jimmy pointed at Owen. “Who’s the greybeard?”
“Oh that is simply my uncle’s cousin’s brother,” Mike replied easily. “We all call him Sha-Tui. Mike raised his hands as if in a shrug. “I said I would look after him. Family. What are you going to do?”
“Long legs eh? Huh,” Jimmy the Horse folded his arms in front of his chest. “I wouldn’t have thought you knew who your own mother was much less whatever you call him.” Jimmy shook his head. “I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.”
Owen stepped forward. He had to deflect this kind of talk before it wound up with Mike’s side into doing something foolish. Mike’s people held anything that could hit as a weapon, from an old rusted rake to a board with nails in it, and they were ready to use them. Jimmy’s line of warriors on the other hand all held long knives, short swords and spiked maces, all burnished bright. Owen wondered as he spoke how profitable Jimmy’s street business must be to allow them that sort of kit. He did remember to stoop.
“I am but an old man,” Owen rasped out. “Please, let there be no fighting on my account!” He looked at Jimmy directly. “Besides I hear there is food. We should eat, should we not?”
“We should,” Jimmy the Horse declared deciding to give in on the point of Owen’s presence. He patted Mike on the back hard enough to leave a bruise, Owen was sure. Mike looked as if he was being offered a mangy rat to eat for a moment and then put on a brave face.
“Let us eat together,” he said to his people. “We may as well.” The gang members looked dubious for a moment until the old woman, Zhang, opened the doors to the banquet room beyond the front hall. The aromas that came from the room were enough to convince a horde of starving women and men to stream towards the laden tables that lay within. Owen, Mike, and Mary came at a more dignified pace behind them, accompanied by Jimmy and a young man who looked half-Han and half-Westerner to Owens eyes.
“This is my personal retainer, Huang,” Jimmy said by way of introduction. The young man looked at them all with slight distain and in a curl of his lip. After a moment’s awkward silence they all continued walking into the banquet room. Owen had taken an instant dislike to Huang. He was one of those pretty boys who knew he was, and besides, Owen was willing to bet he was Jimmy’s fire caller.
Once they were all seated with Jimmy at the head of the table, Mike, Mary and Owen in that order sat down the left side, with Huang and some of Jimmy’s bully boys to the right. After a short speech which could have been taken as insulting to Mike by Jimmy, the food and wine began to flow.
Owen was pleased to see how Mike dealt with Jimmy’s barbed comments so adroitly. That Jimmy was trying to goad Mike was clear, but Mike refused to rise to the bait. They all continued eating and drinking, Owen watched his own wine bowl closely so as to not accidentally over-indulge. He noticed Mike was doing the same thing and made a mental note to praise him later. At that moment, Mary startled, looking at Huang across from her.
“Mind where you place your feet sir,” she said in careful Mandarin.
“What,” Huang said with a smirk, “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Very well,” Mary said with a sigh. She resumed eating, her gaze focused on her plate.
“I said,” Huang’s voice rose louder over the noise of the feasters. “that I don’t know what you mean, bitch!’ I think that you should apologize!”
In the hush that followed this pronouncement all eyes turned towards Mary. She blinked, looking down at her plate, utterly silent. Jimmy the Horse who had been watching everything carefully, picked up his wine bowl.
“You should learn to keep your woman in line better,” he said to Mike, drinking a large draught. He held out his bowl wordlessly to have it refilled, his eyes intent on his rival gang leader.
“She is not my woman,” Mike replied quietly. “Her name is Mary, and she belongs to no one. Perhaps it is you who should keep better control of your baboons,”
“No one calls me a monkey!” Huang cried. He pushed his chair away from the table as if to rise up. Mike looked at him as if he were a barking dog, then calmly turned to Jimmy the Horse.
“I have no idea what he is going on about,” Mike protested innocently. “I was referring to your pets. You do keep pet baboons do you not?” Jimmy guffawed loudly, gesturing for Huang to stand down.
“Yes, I do,” Jimmy admitted, still chuckling, “which means either your spies or your information sources are very good! I must say Mike that you keep your cool admirably, and have your people well-disciplined also.” He stroked his chin with a finger thoughtfully. “Perhaps we should do business together. I suspect fighting you would hold little profit for either of us.”
At that moment the tablecloth between Mary and Huang suddenly smoldered, then burst into flames without warning. Huang leapt to his feet shouting,
“She is attacking us,” he screamed. His hand whipped back, then forward to send a stream of fire towards Mary. Owen reacted by springing to his feet, cane pointed. He first stopped Huang’s stream of fire, then quenched the table blaze, by calling upon his water tattoo.
“He did it!” Huang drew a long knife from his belt, pointing it at Owen. “He’s a Sorcerer!!”
Loyal fighters from both sides scrambled to their feet with various shouts, grabbing their weapons. Only the width of the table kept them from coming instantly to blows. Owen raised his cane, a blindingly bright flash of light accompanied by a loud boom came from the cane tip. Everyone froze in place.
“Calm down,” Owen shouted. “There has clearly been a misunderstanding!” He gathered Mary to him with one hand, his cane held up in a cautionary way in the other. “We and the rest of Mike’s group shall retire peacefully. We shall resume this in the morning when our heads are all clear of the wine!” He looked towards Mike and Jimmy the Hand. Mike had his sword out aimed at his rival gang leader. Jimmy held a rather large bore air pistol aimed at Owen’s face. A very large bore, Owen observed.
“You are no old man,” Jimmy accused. “Nor are you harmless.”
“Sorry about that,” Owen said. “We wanted to make sure that your tame fire caller there,” he nodded towards Huang, “did not start anything. Looks like he did anyway.”
“Wh
at does that mean?” Jimmy asked suspiciously.
“You should ask him,” Owen said blandly with a nod towards Huang.
“I never did nothing!” Huang protested.
“Mike, I do believe that we should leave.” Owen looked at Mike.
“It will depend on him,” Mike said. The gang leader kept his sword aimed at Jimmy’s throat, while Jimmy the Horse kept his gun aimed at Owen. Jimmy’s eyes shifted from side to side weighing by some sort of gang leader calculus, Owen thought. Finally he spoke.
“Alright,” Jimmy said. “You can leave,” He gestured with his pistol. “We meet here tomorrow,” he said to Mike. “Bring the Sorcerer with you.”
“I will bring or not bring who I like,” Mike snarled.
“Mike,” Owen interrupted, “Not now.” He started backing towards the door, one arm still around Mary. If she manifested her fire now, it would not be pleasant. Owen hoped that his aura was dampening her power sufficiently. Mike and the others of their group slowly followed, all of them walking slowly backwards. The tension was thick enough to cut with a proverbial knife. Owen only hope it would not be in anyone’s back.
How wonderful, Owen thought. All it would take is one of us to stumble and there will be a bloodbath. Jimmy’s boys would jump all over us. While confident that he could stop a number of them, Owen could not stop all of them, he knew. Someone would fight and likely die. However, no one stumbled. He did not breathe easy until they reached the outdoors. The girls crowded around Owen, Mary and Mike, hefting their makeshift weapons. Mike’s gaze took them all in. Mike nodded after doing a silent count.
“All right,” Mike said firmly. “Gou, Jin, scout ahead for traps. Everyone else stay together. We are going home.” His eye rested on Owen and Mary. “You, I will talk to when we get there,” He pronounced coldly.
The walk back was a nightmare of twisted alleys, the tension radiating from the others as they waited for Jimmy’s band to ambush them. Mary walked beside Owen dejectedly. Finally she responded to his inquiries as to how she was.
