“This isn’t Market Row. This looks like Tupet Road. And the tea house.”
Caradon shook his head as he held out a hand to help Zan down from the carriage. She decided to put her hand in his this time which made his eyes widen a fraction. “The little baggage accepts my hand?”
“Don’t read too much into it,” she replied as the driver slapped the horses with his reins and the carriage rolled off down the street. “Why here? You said we were going to a café.”
“I’m allowed to change my mind, aren’t I? Besides, this is near Long’s and I wanted to check up on the old man before we go.”
“I suppose you mean the monk we saved last night. You said that you were going to put him on one of your ships.”
He pulled her along through the doors of the tea house. The interior was dark and smoky with the hint of opium. Zan pulled out a handkerchief and sneezed. “The Conquistador, to be exact. I sent Captain Ramon to personally escort the monk to the ship. It’s due to set sail tomorrow.”
The customers in the tea house appeared to be bent figures in the dimness, looking over their own tea or their own card games on the small wooden square tables placed at regular intervals throughout the restaurant. They glanced at the new guests with beady eyes, assessing Zan and Caradon before dismissing them as no more than a pair of upper class upstarts looking for a new thrill.
He took her to a small table pushed up against the wall although it had a good view of the doorway. A waiter in a black linen jacket of the Far Eastern style came by with a pot and tea cups. While he poured, Caradon spoke in low tones about lunch. The waiter nodded and then retreated back to where he came from.
“I can see why you favor this place,” Zan said as she took a sip of the tea. “Dark atmosphere. Too much unhealthy smoke. Not to mention drugs…”
“Now where have you gotten that idea?” His eyes gleamed brightly as he peered over his own cup.
“I have a nose, don’t I? And being a chemist, I have been exposed to many strange vapors. You can’t deny that you use them yourself. Every time I’ve visited you at your residence, you’ve been burning it in that bronze censer of yours.”
“What a disapproving tone!” He was grinning, but this time, she wasn’t cowed by his sharp teeth. “Don’t dismiss something you haven’t tried yourself. It frees your mind and loosens your inhibitions.”
“You mean losing control?”
“Why not? Sometimes, I think you’ve got entirely too much control.” The expression on his face slightly shifted into something darker as he flicked a thought her way.
She gasped. “Why, if we weren’t in a public place, I’d punch you in the nose. Or wring your neck.”
“Tsk, tsk. I think you have something else in mind that is entirely different. I’ve intrigued you, haven’t I? You should look at yourself. You’re all delightfully flushed.”
“A punch would be too good for you,” she replied, staring him down. “It is the bad air in here. I wouldn’t be surprised that you actually ingest the foul stuff as well.”
“Well, I suppose that is the strange thing. I haven’t ingested the stuff, just burned it. I am far too fond of my tongue and stomach to ruin them.”
“At least that is something. Addiction can be a terrible thing.”
“Oh really?”
At that moment, the waiter came by with the food and conversation dwindled as they concentrated on lunch consisting of rice, greens, and fish—perch—cooked in a dark, slightly sweet and salty sauce and sprinkled with lemon juice. After the meal, Caradon left payment with the waiter and they walked outside only to venture down the steps to Long’s apothecary.
When Long answered his door, the old man exclaimed, “Oh, you’ve received my message already?”
As they came into the shop, Caradon said, “What message?”
“I sent a message back to your residence about two hours ago when Brother Thessalonius came stumbling back with a bullet through his leg. The man just came straight here instead of going to hospital like any sane person. He muttered about the will of God or some such nonsense as he got here.”
At the news, Zan covered her mouth to stifle a gasp. Caradon froze and a dark frown creased his forehead. “Where’s Captain Ramon?” he asked.
The apothecary shrugged. “The Captain? He came here to escort the Brother to one of your ships just as you said. But at the docks, there was some sort of attack. The Brother got shot and managed to make his way back here. He told me that the Captain got abducted by four men in black coats with pistols. He said he never got a good look at their faces.”
Caradon nodded curtly. “Can I speak with Brother Thessalonius, then?”
“Probably not for a few hours,” said the apothecary wryly. “I had to get the bullet out of him, remember? I dosed him with a pretty strong anesthetic. He is in a very deep sleep at the moment.”
“Great,” Caradon said. “Somebody knows about us and they want us out of the way.”
“No, that’s not entirely set in stone,” Zan hastened to add. “If the attackers knew all about us, then why didn’t they attack Mr. Long’s shop first? I think what is more likely is that the attackers were waiting for your Captain and the Brother was simply in the way. Either they thought they killed the Brother with the shot or they did not care about abducting him.”
“It could also mean that someone is trying to get to me,” said Caradon slowly. “This isn’t the first time that business rivals have resorted to dirty tactics in an attempt to stop me. I’ll hire someone to find the Captain. Meanwhile, I’m sure I will get a ransom letter in the next day or so. It is terrible that the monk was caught in the middle of all of this.”
“Extremely bad luck,” agreed the apothecary. “I suggest that the Brother stay with me until he is well enough to travel. Then you can send another of your employees to help see him to the Queen.”
“Yes,” Caradon replied. “It seems to be the only way we can work these things out at the moment. I will reimburse you for the Brother’s stay.”
The apothecary bowed his head. “If that is your wish. Also, I have some advice, if the both of you would like to listen.”
“What sort of advice?” asked Zan.
“If you two make it a habit to frequent Old Amanthus at night, I suggest you do not go tomorrow night. The conjunction of five planets will occur on that night—it’s a rare occurrence for it comes around every five hundred years. In certain places where the chi has accumulated, the conjunction will cause violent fluctuations.”
At Long’s words, a thought tried to surface in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t retrieve it. “I’m not sure I follow you,” she said. “What’s so bad about energy fluctuations? The energy in itself doesn’t do any harm if it isn’t channeled.”
“Fluctuations will mean that some spots will completely be void of chi while other spots will be packed with it. Condensing the energy will cause barriers to be formed. What I’m trying to say is that the old city contains a lot of stagnant energy that will finally be put into action on that night. When the conjunction occurs and you are inside the old city, you will not be able to come out until the next day. And when other places thin of energy—other things thin as well and beings and creatures from elsewhere may use the opportunity to break through.”
“Beings and creatures?” Zan repeated, glancing at Caradon. “Like those things? There was something at the Temple…”
“You are not going there again,” her patron said firmly.
“There are many Ancient buildings constructed on places where there is much energy accumulation,” replied the old man as he slowly moved toward his counter and began to grind the herbs that he had placed in a mortar and pestle before answering the door for Zan and Caradon. “Some cultures viewed the beings who live on the other side as monsters and demons always trying to seek an entrance into this world for the purpose of conquering and destruction. Others thought they were just evil spirits. And yet others—like the Ancients who lived on this Island—thought they were gods.”
Zan shook her head. “But what are those things really?”
The apothecary shrugged. “Are you sure you really want to know, Miss Hu? No one who has found out has come back sane. Or come back at all.”
