Precious Dragon Read online

  “Badger,” Mrs Pa whispered. “What is it?”

  “Something is on the boat,” the badger replied.

  Mrs Pa could just see Inari’s houseboat through the bushes and with dismay she saw that the badger was right. Something—no, several things—were swarming up from the water and onto the deck of the houseboat. Mrs Pa nudged Inari, who woke with a start.

  “What are they?”

  Inari shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  The things looked like human beings, but even from this distance, in the uncertain lights from the harbour, Mrs Pa could tell that they were not. They made her senses prickle. Precious Dragon had been right: it was like looking at shells, at simulacra of human beings. They wore black, slick outfits like sealskin, and if it hadn’t been for that terrible sense of wrongness, Mrs Pa would have assumed they were human divers. But instead, she had the impression that it was their actual flesh that she was seeing.

  And they were exactly like the thing that had invaded her home a little while ago.

  “Inari,” she murmured. “Is there any way that they can track us, do you think? By smell?”

  “I don’t know. I hope not.”

  One of the things was on the roof of the houseboat. It stood and looked around, then it crawled face down along the wall to the lower deck. It moved with unnatural speed, reminding Mrs Pa of a spider or crab. A moment later, all the things were gone into the waters of the harbour with barely a splash.

  “I think we should move,” Inari said. Mrs Pa thought so, too.

  “We could climb a tree,” she suggested. It sounded so futile, but looking around, they didn’t have many other options. There was a ruined pier further down the shore, but the scrub had petered out at that point and the shore was exposed. Behind the trees was a high wall, a concreted cliff that it would be impossible to climb.

  So Mrs Pa hoisted Precious Dragon up into the branches and Inari helped her, with some difficulty.

  “I’m too old to be sitting in a tree at my age,” Mrs Pa said ruefully. She clutched the trunk. It seemed a very long way to the ground. Inari shinned lithely up beside her, followed by the badger.

  Then they waited. At first, Mrs Pa thought that it was over. The things had merely wanted to check the houseboat and had returned to the water. But then the badger, crouching beside her on a branch, stiffened and she saw a narrow wake out in the harbour, heading fast for shore.

  “Precious Dragon,” she murmured. “Don’t even breathe.” But her grandson was as still as stone.

  The wake reached the shore and one of the black things was coming out of the water. Closer to, it looked nothing like a human being. Its limbs were too thin, but the muscles and veins were hideously prominent. Round black eyes like lenses were set into its shiny skull. A small circular mouth opened to reveal needle teeth and a long probing tongue that snaked over the shore, testing and questing. Its hind legs were jointed the wrong way, bending backwards, and its feet were long razor-edged paddles. It came quickly up the shore and left no trace in the sand.

  Mrs Pa and their companions stayed still and quiet. The thing investigated the place where they had slept. Then it looked up. Mrs Pa found herself staring directly down into the black lenses and it was like looking through a gateway, into a vast dark land where everything was storm and cold. She gasped and the thing was already swarming up the tree. Inari kicked out and her foot connected with its head. The head snapped backwards, as if its neck was made of rubber, and righted itself. The thing gave a little curling grin. It seized Inari by the ankle and threw her out of the tree. She landed heavily but next moment was up again and grasping for the thing, trying to avoid the sharp flailing paddle of its left foot. The badger bit into the thing’s arm and hung on. The thing, still grinning, tried to dislodge it but the badger clung.

  Something pushed past Mrs Pa and she almost lost her grip on the trunk. Precious Dragon stood precariously in the fork of the tree. He was mumbling the pearl, working it inside his cheek, and as Mrs Pa watched, aghast, he spat. A long stream of glistening white saliva shot out and plastered itself over the thing’s face. The thing screamed, a discordant shrieking which delighted Mrs Pa’s heart. She would have struck at it herself but she was afraid of falling out of the tree. The saliva was burning, eating away the thing’s face like acid and revealing a thin sheen of bony skull that soon dissolved. Inside, at first there wasn’t anything, and then there was everything: a whole world. Mrs Pa was looking through a gap in the air, the size and shape of a human figure, and beyond it was that immense storm-riven land. She was looking down through the clouds, a distance of thousands of feet and all at once she felt she was falling. She screamed and clutched at Precious Dragon and then they did fall, but out of the tree. Mrs Pa felt a sickening crack at the back of her head and then there was nothing.

  27

  “It started with my mother,” Underling No said. They were still sitting at the café table. “She worked for the Ministry of War all her life, it’s in our family. She was a warrior.” No banged the table with her mailed fist for emphasis. “Then one year there was a dispute between War and Lust—the two Ministers fell out over something. There were raids and disputes between the Ministries and a raiding party from Lust overpowered my mother and her unit. They took her into the Ministry and we never saw her again, but we knew what had happened to her because they sent us photographs. Big ones. Full colour. She was raped and put to work. Can you imagine how humiliating that is for a warrior? For anyone?”

  “I’m so sorry,” Chen said. He had to restrain himself from reaching out and putting a hand on No’s arm; he did not think she would appreciate it. He felt, at gut level, that she was telling the truth. Zhu Irzh made a tutting noise.

  “Dreadful business. Happens a lot between Ministries.”

  “I know that,” Underling No said. “But Lust has additional weapons. At least with Epidemics, for instance, all you get is some foul disease. You’re not broken.”

  “Very true,” Zhu Irzh said. “I’ve never liked Lust. Well, you know what I mean. The Vice Department had a lot of dealings with them, obviously; we had to carry out their remits. It was always a pain in the ass. They were always getting on their high horse about something or other, always whinging.”

  “Also, your brother-in-law works for them,” Chen reminded him.

  “Yes, well, that doesn’t exactly endear me to them. Daisy worked for them for a bit, too, before she landed her bureaucrat and started giving herself airs and graces. She was a secretary. In fact, when I come to think of it, as a family we’ve probably had more dealings with the Ministry of Lust than with any other department over the decades.”

  Chen bit back what he had been about to say, but he knew that both he and Zhu Irzh were thinking the same thing: given those connections with Lust, what was Zhu Irzh’s mother doing with the Minister of War?

  “I can understand why you’re not a fan of Lust, in that case,” Chen said to No.

  “This is why I want to come with you. Miss Qi—I don’t know her, of course. She is a Celestial, our enemy. But sometimes enemies can be closer than one’s friends and I saw what kind of a person Qi is—she is like my mother. A warrior, too—I saw her with the bow. And I do not like to think of her in the hands of Lust. I couldn’t save my mother, I was too young. But perhaps I can help you save Miss Qi, and maybe, also, if I can get into the Ministry, I might be able to find out what happened to my mother. She might even still be alive.”

  “Have you tried before?” Chen asked.

  “Twice. Each time, I failed. I did not have this map—I was surprised that the Lesser Lord gave it to you.”

  Chen sighed. “I’m afraid demons don’t matter, Underling No. Miss Qi is a Celestial and they’re too scared of a diplomatic incident with Heaven not to give us some help, at least.”

  “Then you’ll take me with you?” Underling No asked.

  “Yes,” Chen said. “We will.” He did not know whether it was wise to put any
faith in Underling No’s story, but you had to trust your instincts some time, and Chen’s had already told him that the demon was telling the truth. Besides, they could use her help.

  “Good!” No leaped to her feet. It struck Chen that in many ways, No was the mirror image of Qi: both warriors of integrity, one mild and one ferocious, one serving Heaven and the other Hell. It gave him the discomfiting feeling that the worlds might all have their counterparts: was there a Celestial version of Zhu Irzh? Of Inari?

  “I shall bring more blood,” No announced. “We will drink to our success!”

  “She’s very keen,” Zhu Irzh remarked as No disappeared in the direction of the café’s interior. He leaned languidly back in his chair and looked in the direction of the Ministry of Lust. Chen followed his glance. The Ministry seemed to have swelled.

  “You can see why.”

  “There’s a fair chance her mum’s still in there, unless she’s been dispatched to the lower realms. If you ask me, she’s coming along for the ride simply to find out what happened to her mother. I doubt she gives a toss about Qi.”

  “Very probably you’re right,” Chen said, though he wasn’t entirely sure about that. “Do you have objections to her coming along, though? She could be useful.”

  “No objections. I agree with you. I think we’ll need to keep an eye on her, though. She’s likely to go running off at a crucial moment.”

  Underling No came back with drinks, and they resumed a study of the map. The most promising entrance was one that lay at the back of the building, in the grounds. Chen remembered the extensive shrubberies that he had seen in the gardens of the hotel: both the grounds of the hotel and those of the Ministry adjoined one another.

  “We’re going to need some kind of disguise,” he said. “We can’t just pretend that we’re going back to the hotel. Someone will be watching.”

  “I have a method of temporary invisibility,” No said. “It’s standard use among the troops. It won’t work once we’re inside the Ministry itself, though. They have protections against that sort of thing.”

  Chen shrugged. “Sounds good enough to me. As long as we can actually get inside the Ministry, we’ll take it from there. If we go back to the hotel and use your method, then we can slip out again. I’m reluctant to leave this any longer.”

  “So am I,” Underling No said. She grimaced. “You didn’t see the photos.”

  Zhu Irzh downed the last of his drink and got up. “Let’s get on with it, then.”

  They made their way back to the hotel in silence. It was now close to what, in Hell, passed for noon and the sky was a brassy, brilliant red, baking with heat. The hotel foyer was empty apart from a bored and unfamiliar demon on the desk. She did not look up from her magazine, but slapped the room keys down on the desk in front of Chen and continued studying what appeared to be celebrity photographs. Chen, Zhu Irzh and Underling No went up the stairs to Chen’s room.

  “We need to stand and touch hands,” No said. “There are other ways of doing it, but this is the quickest.”

  “Ah,” said Zhu Irzh. “I know what this is.”

  Underling No spoke a word that made the walls of the room tremble. A black spark of magic travelled down Chen’s spine, making the scars on the palms of his hands ache momentarily, and then buried itself in the floor. Chen saw no difference until No broke her grip and he turned to look in the mirror. He was a shadow on the air, nothing more.

  “Invisible,” Chen said and the word was a whisper. He heard it inside his head, echoing.

  “At least until we reach the Ministry,” Zhu Irzh replied. Chen glanced in his direction. The demon, too, had become a sharp shadow, easier to see out of the corner of the eye than directly.

  “We can see one another,” No informed him, “But not be seen by anyone else. At least, that’s the idea.”

  They went back down the stairs, through the foyer where the bored clerk did not glance up and out into the steaming afternoon. They had all agreed that it would be safest to walk through the gardens, avoiding the main avenues, just in case. So they moved through the black-spined trees that skirted the grounds of the Ministry of War, shrubs with leaves like sabres that hissed in the wind, bulbous-trunked palms that were the shape of hand grenades. The air smelled faintly of gunpowder, of smoke, the bracing odour of the battlefield’s edge.

  As they drew closer to the Ministry of Lust, however, the foliage changed from black to red, becoming fleshier and more pliable, moist, with clefts and folds that secreted a glutinous mucus. The scent of the air changed also, now heavy and filled with musk. Chen found both kinds of vegetation disturbing, and the smell revolted him, but he refrained from voicing his opinion. As the gardens of the Ministry became more formal and increasingly decadent (crimson and mauve-veined fungi, vines loaded with mammary fruit), they stepped into a narrow artificial gorge cut between contoured rocks. The gorge was fringed with red fronded ferns; there was little doubt what it was intended to represent. There was a snort of disapproval within Chen’s hearing: he attributed it to Underling No, who seemed far too stern for any sexual activity.

  It was when they were halfway through the gorge that Chen became convinced that someone was following them. He nudged Zhu Irzh, still visible to him but not, he hoped, to anyone in pursuit.

  “Zhu Irzh! There’s someone there.”

  The demon paused and looked round. “I can’t see anyone.”

  “There. Do you see where those fronds are moving?”

  “You keep seeing things. It’s just the wind.”

  “Then why is everything else so still?”

  “You might be right,” Zhu Irzh breathed, after a moment’s contemplation. “Do you want to check it out?”

  “I think we’d better.”

  But when they made their way back up the gorge, there was no one there.

  “All right,” Chen said. “We carry on. But keep your eyes open.”

  He did so himself, turning swiftly every so often to see if the person was still behind them. He thought of the shadow he had seen in the parkland in front of the hotel, slipping into the night. Hell had spies everywhere; it was only a matter of determining where they came from.

  The gorge ended. Chen and the others stepped out onto a red squashy expanse at the back of the Ministry, which rose now before them.

  “The entrance isn’t far away,” Underling No said in Chen’s ear. “Just around these rocks.”

  It was another artfully constructed cleft, this time filled with the phallic, mauve fungi. They moved slowly, drifting in the damp air like clams, their blind heads seeking.

  “Don’t let them touch you,” Zhu Irzh warned.

  “What will they do?” asked Chen.

  “To be honest, I don’t know, but I doubt it would be good.”

  As they were a quarter of the way along the cleft, Chen thought he heard something, a faint muffled cry. He swung round but no one was there. He was sure they were still being followed. Then they came to a large cluster of the fungi, a phallic phalanx that stood rigid and quivering.

  “You go first,” said Underling No. “I’ll distract them.” She was standing at the entrance to what looked like a small cave, a hollow in the rock. This, too, was lined with vegetation: a kind of dank black fern. Chen and Zhu Irzh, careful not to touch the sides, inched their way into the hollow. Ahead was a dim phos­phorescence. Chen glanced back. The phallic fungi were twisting and turning, seeking No and paying little attention to Chen and Zhu Irzh. After all, reflected Chen, she was female. The fungi did not appear able to see, but then No was invisible. Could they smell her? Chen was not sure. But if such things were to be found outside the Ministry of Lust, then what was it like inside? Grimly, Chen reminded himself that Miss Qi had already found out.

  Zhu Irzh was striding ahead, his black cloak outlined by a silvery glow. Chen turned to make sure that Underling No was still behind them and was relieved to discover that she had left the fungi and was close on their tail. They were in
a tunnel, which seemed to have been deliberately carved from the red rock: its walls and the low roof were smooth, disquietingly fleshy, like the cliffs outside. The floor seemed hard enough but Chen was not inclined to touch the walls, especially when they were some distance in and the tunnel gave a sudden convulsive contraction.

  Zhu Irzh stopped abruptly. “What was that?”

  “Keep going,” Underling No advised. “From the map, we’re almost at the end.”

  They walked on. After a few minutes the tunnel began to narrow, convoluting into labial folds. Chen began to feel claustrophobic: he didn’t think he’d suffered any birth traumas, but who knew? He certainly had no desire to go through the process again. Another series of folds, coated with beads and globules of moisture, so narrow that Zhu Irzh had to turn and sidle sideways. Then, suddenly, the tunnel was widening, arching far above their heads in a blur of pink and rose and Chen’s vision was filled with light. They were inside the Ministry of Lust.

  28

  Mrs Pa’s head felt as though it was a melon, about to burst. She groaned.

  “Lie still,” said a worried female voice. Mrs Pa made the mistake of opening her eyes and in between the explosions of light saw that Inari was looking down at her. “Precious Dragon?” Mrs Pa heard Inari say. “Can you do anything?”

  “Wait.” Precious Dragon sounded very authoritative and calm. Mrs Pa felt something smooth and round travel across her brow and it drew the pain with it like a veil being pulled gently aside. She blinked and sat up. Precious Dragon was putting the pearl back in his mouth. Inari sat by her side and the badger was some distance away across the little glade. Mrs Pa looked up into the branches of the tree and saw that they were empty apart from the greying light of dawn.

  “Thank you,” she breathed to her grandson. To Inari, she said, “What happened to that—that thing?”

  “I don’t know.” Inari sounded bewildered. “It just seemed to open up the air and fall through it. Into Hell, I think. It looked like Hell. It felt like Hell.”