'You find old jade head they look for?' she shrilled.
'We're going for it now.'
'You find bali bali' Quickly. 'Maybe they call soon. I go now.'
She hung up on me.
Lady Ahn shifted her weight in the boat and gazed at me with her shimmering black eyes. Her face was scrubbed clean, and she was wrapped in the gray robes of a Buddhist nun. Her legs were enfolded in white linen, laced with string, her feet bound tightly in leather sandals.
She tapped Ernie on the shoulder. He swiveled and the three of us went over the plan one last time.
Lady Ahn had been paying homage to the monks of the Monastery of the Sleeping Dragon since she was a little girl. She came as a supplicant and worshiped in their temple carved out of the side of Bian-san, the Mountain of Mysterious Peace.
Through the years she had gained the monks' trust. They were aware of her descent from the imperial court of the Sung. They treated her with the respect due one of a royal line, even if the line had fallen centuries ago.
She had found many opportunities to inspect the monastery and committed much of its layout to memory. It was a vast complex, expanded over the years and connected to a network of volcanic caves that honeycombed Bian Mountain.
Deep in the tunnels of the old volcano, the last relics of the Treasure of the Sung were hidden. That's where we'd find the jade skull of Kublai Khan.
In a few minutes, Fisherman Yun would be dropping Ernie and me off on the back side of the mountain, on a rocky cliff remote from the main buildings of the monastery. Lady Ahn would continue in the skiff. She'd arrive at the entranceway to the Bian Temple in about an hour. Just in time to make the predawn call to meditation with the monks.
Ernie dipped his palm into the cold sea and splashed a handful of salt water onto his face. Grumbling. As if to remind us that he wasn't pleased about the early hour.
Lady Ahn ignored him and continued her explanation.
The Dragon Throne of China had been stolen from her family. As far as she was concerned, any possessions of the Mongol rulers, including the jade skull, were nothing but ill-gotten booty. She had no qualms about stealing it back.
But the monks who had protected the treasure all these centuries didn't see it her way. They were aware of the power of the skull. Of the untold riches it could lead to. And although they had taken a vow of poverty, they knew of the allure that wealth held for most men.
The monks had taken an oath to protect the stolen relics in their possession. And they had sworn to allow the Great Khan Genghis to rest peacefully in his tomb, hidden far away on the mainland, high in the hinterlands of the vast steppes of Mongolia.
When Lady Ahn explained this, Ernie piped up. 'So you're saying that if they catch us trying to rip off the skull, they'll jack us up royally.'
Lady Ahn turned to me for translation.
'They'll fight,' I said.
She nodded her head solemnly.
Our goal was to sneak in, snatch the jade skull, and creep back out without being noticed.
Lady Ahn went over the instructions again.
The morning meditation lasted an hour. That would give Ernie and me time to enter through a tunnel in the back of the mountain and make our way deep into the earth, to a vast chamber where lay entombed the relics of Buddhist saints. There, we would wait for Lady Ahn. Her job was to make sure that no one would be working in the back caverns. Once she slipped away from the monks, she would find us and lead us to the skull. Then we'd grab it and slip out a back entrance. Outside, Lady Ahn's cousin, Fisherman Yun, would be waiting for us with his boat.
'Piece of rice cake,' Ernie said. Then his brow furrowed. 'What about this commando who got sliced up?'
Lady Ahn shook her head. 'He was not careful.'
'Not careful about what?'
A rock-strewn shoreline burst into view in the swirling mist. The roar of the breakers filled our ears. The skiff bobbed high in the air, but Fisherman Yun guided us expertly past the churning waves. Once we hit land, Ernie and I hopped out. We dragged the little boat up onto the pebbled shore.
Before we left, Lady Ahn touched my hand and stared into my eyes. It was a look of promise, I thought.
Of what, I wasn't sure.
Fisherman Yun shoved the boat back into the water, hopped aboard, and, like the great seaman he was, soon had the rickety little craft sporting proudly through the waves. In seconds, their silhouettes disappeared into the dark mist.
'Do you think that chick is going to come through on all this?' Ernie asked.
'Damn right she is.'
We trudged through heavy brush. A pathway led toward a cave that sat high on the side of the cliff wall.
The creature could smell them before it heard their footsteps. Vibrations quivered through the soil, up the trunk, and through a sluggish body. Predators. A surge of fear rushed through its flesh. The creature hugged the heavy branch tighter, claws clicking free, ready to swing.
Were they coming closer? No. The pounding moved away. And then it heard rocks sliding, grunting, and finally silence.
The monsoon wind rustled through the thick foliage of the jungle.
The intruders were gone. Slowly, the fear seeped from the creature's body. It reached for food and chewed, weak eyes glazing over, gradually drifting back into the stupor that was its beloved natural state.
Before fading completely into sleep, it felt what seemed like footsteps again. It opened its eyes again but swiftly closed them. The sound was not footsteps. Merely the first droplets of rain, pelting rocks and trees and leaves. A flash of lightning tore the sky. Thunder roared. An entire ocean of wetness fell from the heavens.
The creature lay soaked, clinging to the branch, steam rising from rancid fur. It thought of nothing.
After an hour, hunger stirred. There was no food left on the tree. It decided to reposition itself.
Ernie cursed as we crawled through the narrow tunnel.
'You got to be shitting me. This tunnel leads nowhere, Sueno. You must've taken a wrong turn.'
We'd been crawling through bat shit for half an hour. I was just as fed up as Ernie was. Still, I wasn't going to admit it. Lady Ahn would be waiting and I couldn't let her down. And I mustn't let Mi-ja down.
As we rounded a corner, a red light glimmered up ahead. I motioned behind me for Ernie to be quiet.
Sweat poured down my forehead. I wiped it with the back of my hand. Quietly, I inched closer to the light, stretched forward, and peered around the granite wall.
A skull grinned into my face.
I leapt back. Ernie grabbed me.
'What the shit?'
'Quiet!'
I crept back to the corner. When nothing moved, I rose and stepped out into a small cavern.
In front of us, cross-legged, sat the skeletal remains of a man, draped in tattered gray robes. In front of him, guttering softly, was the flame from a small oil lamp. Next to that sat a bowl of fruit. I pinched the pear and the persimmon.
'Both fresh,' I told Ernie. 'The monks make regular offerings.'
Behind the cross-legged skeleton loomed a silk screen painting of ancient Buddhist saints engaged in various struggles with the powers of evil.
Ernie reached down, grabbed the pear, and took a bite. 'Who the hell is this guy, anyway?'
'Maybe one of their leaders. From the past.'
He crunched on the pear. 'From the past is sort of obvious, George.'
