“The first demon-deity is Fang-liang,” the saint had said. “It resembles a three-year-old child with red eyes, long ears, and beautiful hair, and it kills by forcing its victims to strangle themselves.”
I realized that the tickling sensation inside my throat had been growing stronger, and I tried to cough but all I did was choke, and I whirled and looked back. Master Li had dropped his knife and was staggering in a little circle with his hands clasped around his throat, strangling himself.
I tried to go back to him, and then thought better of it and tried to charge the child with the flute, but all I did was trip and fall. I couldn’t breathe. The itching inside my throat was unbearable and I tried to reach it, clasping my neck tightly with my hands. My vision was dimming and I could barely see that Master Li had gone mad and was trying to climb what looked like a tiny tree rising above orchids, shinnying up like a young boy, and then I couldn’t see that far. I rolled over on my back, clawing helplessly at my throat.
The flute music had stopped. The moon was blocked out. The child was bending over me, looking down. A happy smile was on the innocent face, and the eyes were indeed red, and the earlobes nearly reached the shoulders. Beautiful hair glistened in moonlight, and a pretty little tongue slid out and licked pretty little lips. Then, suddenly, a dark form hit the child like a hurricane and sent it flying away, and hands grabbed my head and pried my mouth open, and burning acid began to scorch a hole through the obstruction in my throat. Air suddenly entered my lungs. I breathed and gasped and choked and sat up, and in a few more seconds I realized it wasn’t acid in my mouth but lime juice, and the dark shape was Master Li.
“Get him, Ox!”
The weird child had been entangled in plants, but now it was free and it had grabbed the cage and was scrambling toward the door. I couldn’t possibly catch it—my legs tried to move and gave up—but a small, heavy, earth-packed flowerpot lay close to my hand. I grabbed it and threw as hard as I could, and then regretted it.
“I wanted to hit the legs,” I panted.
“You did well to hit anything at all,” the old man said comfortingly.
He wasn’t going to need to perform an autopsy to determine what happened when that pot landed squarely in the back of the child’s small head. We could hear the bones crush from where we were, and before the body hit the floor we knew that Master Li wasn’t going to be able to question the creature. I got shakily to my feet and we walked up and looked down. The wig of beautiful hair had been knocked five feet, and one of the fake earlobes had come loose. Red eyes gazed blindly up at us.
“Some kind of ointment to give an effect like pinkeye,” Master Li said matter-of-factly. “I recognize him. One of the dwarfs who entertain eunuchs in the Forbidden City, and I rather think I’ve seen him in the company of Li the Cat.”
He picked up the fallen cage and bounced it up and down in his hand.
“Somebody’s gone to a hell of a lot of trouble,” he said. “When we lifted the cage from the case a concealed spring released a cloud of stuff that looked like the steam in the room. It wasn’t. It was a powder derived from yuan ha. Barbarians call it Lilac Daphne, and it’s related to laurel and the mezereon herbs. It contains an immensely powerful irritant that can inflame the larynx to the point where airflow is cut off, and since a victim instinctively tries to get at the constriction he appears to be strangling himself. One antidote is citric acid, and it was a lucky thing that a lime tree was growing among the orchids.”
The sage glared at the tiny corpse.
“But why such a ridiculously complicated murder plot?” he asked rhetorically. “There were a thousand surer ways to kill us, and all this did was tell us that Li the Cat has a spy in the Celestial Master’s household. Somebody managed to read that note and set a trap before we arrived, and we’d better make sure they haven’t harmed the Celestial Master himself.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, and I automatically bent over and he hopped up on my back, and I set out at a gallop.
17
We paused only long enough for Master Li to remove the clay from his face and make himself presentable. Then I turned the donkey cart into the entrance of the Celestial Master’s house, and my heart sank when I saw the outer courtyard crammed with soldiers from the Black Watch, which is the militia guarding the important eunuchs of the Forbidden City. Clearly something was wrong and Master Li didn’t waste time. He simply climbed out and marched toward the door yelling orders right and left as though he’d arrived to take charge, and we strode inside like conquering generals.
As we reached the inner court a body was being carried out on a litter. One foot protruded from beneath a cloak. It was enough to tell me that the body was not that of the Celestial Master, but of a woman, and then I realized who she was. On the foot was a silly little embroidered slipper with a pattern of chipmunks hopping through flowers, and I recalled the young maid who had been carrying a sick dog on a silken pillow. Master Li held up a hand and stopped the procession.
“The Celestial Master?”
“Not here, sir. He’s been away and doesn’t know about this yet.”
An oily eunuch had come out and seen Master Li, and he trotted forward as the old man lifted the cloak and looked at the body. Master Li’s back blocked my view, and I saw him stiffen, and then he gently replaced the cloak. His eyes lifted to the eunuch, who seemed to be the official in charge.
“The blood isn’t fresh. When did this happen?” Master Li asked in a calm, unemotional voice.
The eunuch licked his lips nervously. An old woman shoved her way through the soldiers, and I remembered her as the one who had turned us away the last time. Her eyes were red and her voice was hoarse.
“She was murdered yesterday,” she said. “We thought she had gone to her family, and we only found her body a few hours ago, but the men who killed her came yesterday. I know. I admitted them myself. They had a note from the Celestial Master allowing them to enter.”
“Adoptive daughter, can you read?” Master Li asked gently.
“No, Venerable Sir, but the Celestial Master always draws a little bird on messages sent to the house, and I saw the bird,” the old lady said. “They called poor Little Numskull out to the garden, but then I was busy and forgot them. Just now we found Numskull’s body in the boat shed down by the lake.”
“Could you identify the men if you saw them again?” Master Li asked.
“Yes!” the old lady said vehemently. “How can I ever forget? The leader looked just like a hog, and the two men with him were like a hyena and a jackal.”
I felt sick to my stomach as I remembered those creatures back at the cave, first murdering the clerk and then laughing at dirty stories while dog grease ran down their jowls. Master Li had pointed out there had to be a spy in the Celestial Master’s household, and had the little maid called Numskull discovered the spy, and was this her reward? Master Li was looking thoughtfully at the eunuch.
“The Celestial Master’s house and office are under imperial jurisdiction. Do you have proper authority to investigate the murder?”
The eunuch was suddenly self-assured and oozing honey. “This worthless one has indeed been so honored,” he said, bowing to the ground, and he presented a scroll with imperial seals all over it.
Master Li glanced at the document and handed it back. Foxes would investigate the death of a hen, but what could he do about it? “Very well. Carry on,” he said crisply, and he swiveled on his heels and I followed him back outside to the donkey cart.
“Sir, was it very bad?” I asked as I drove away.
“The killing? She was sliced to pieces,” the sage said gruffly.
“Bastards!”
“If you mean Hog and Hyena and Jackal I agree, but they didn’t kill the girl,” Master Li said.
“What?” I yelped.
“They may have taken her, and they may have held her, but they didn’t kill her. Those animals would have hacked and chopped like amateur butchers, and the man who killed Numskull was a master of the art.”
“Do you mean we have to deal with an insane surgeon on top of everything else?” I said weakly.
“Not at all,” the sage said. “We have to deal with a very competent fellow whose craftsmanship in slaughter is as unmistakable as fine calligraphy, but first we’re going to pay a call on a puppeteer. Ox, don’t forget that the
