Strong Mystery: Murder, Mystery and Magic Books 1-3 (Steampunk Magica) (25 page)

“So, tell me
Sha-Tui,
” Mike said looking up at Owen,
“Can she be ready to fight with the fire in two days?” Mike mimed throwing a
firebolt
.

“Fight?” Owen repeated blankly. He nearly stumbled. “No one
ever mentioned anything about fighting! Perhaps in two months, she might be
able to light a candle and not set the building on fire,” Owen pronounced. “But
fight with fire?” Owen shook his head firmly, “No, absolutely not!” Mike’s face
turned cold upon hearing this

“Do not give me that, Foreign Devil,” he hissed. “If she can’t
fight then all your fancy learning is useless to me!”

“It is not useless to her,” Owen shot back. “You cannot expect
Mary to develop skills overnight, these things take time!”  Owen gave him a
sideways glance. “And do not give me that
Quizi
manure!”

They had been talking in the slang ridden dialect of what
passed for Mandarin among the lower classes. Owen switched to English as his
vocabulary failed him. “Why do you need her to fight with fire? Thinking of
expanding your territory?” Owen guessed slyly.

“No!” Mike waved his hands, then lowered his voice as they
neared the dining hall. His walk slowed to a stop. “There is another gang.
Jimmy the Horse’s gang. They are expanding their territory. Jimmy has a, what
you call
fire
caller. Evil brat. We will go to a meeting, supposed to
work it out. Jimmy will use him then. Kill people and take our territory.” Mike
shrugged. “I do not suppose that you upper crust types would understand.” Owen
also stopped moving, and leaned on his cane as he addressed the ganger.

“Let me see if I have this right,” Owen said. “An ambitious
rival wants to expand into your territory. You suspect that he will kill your
representatives at a peace summit using forbidden magic to do so.” Mike nodded
solemnly. Owen smiled at him dryly.

“That is positively refreshing in its simplicity,” Owen said.
“You should see some of the plots we have to deal with among the Noble Houses
back home.” He frowned, then looked down at the smaller man. “Mary still cannot
hope to hold her own, let alone be an effective fighter by that time.” Mike
pulled himself up regally.

“Then you had better see to it that she is!” He strode into the
mess hall to many smiles and cries of greeting. Owen had to allow that the
affection that the women and girls showered on him was clearly given freely. He
gestured at Owen to be seated at his right.

The woman everyone called Guan placed a fresh roast chicken in
front of them. Owen had been pleasantly surprised at not only the western style
tables and chairs, but at the quality of the food as well. Owen suspected that
there was more to Mike than met the eye. In fact, he was certain of it. He was
just unsure how to use the knowledge to the best advantage. Jinhao would no
doubt call that his British snobbery, but Owen was certain that Mike was not
street-raised despite what Mike might claim.

“There is only one thing for it then,” Owen said to Mike as he
took his seat. “I shall have to go as a counter to any Magian threat.” Mike
narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously.

“Why would you do that? We are only street scum to you. And
what happened to that ‘I am in hiding’ idea? Why risk your life for us?” At
that moment, little Mei, the girl with the big gun who had first tended Owen,
came dancing into the hall.

“Oh,” she burbled seeing the feast laid out before them. “Guan
got us
chicken
!!”

For a time everyone ate in companionable silence. In addition
to the roast chicken, there was plenty of vegetables and rice served in wooden
bowls that matched the drinking bowls that everyone held. The drink in question
was clean water garnished with some citrus fruit that Owen could not recognize,
there was no alcohol, not even rice wine. He had to admit that his recovery was
going much faster due to the simple diet.

After dinner when the bowls and eating implements were cleared
away, the leaders of the various groups stood at the front of the room and
reported on the activities of the day, especially the loot they had stolen.
Little Mei, gave a humorous report of the swarm of small girl urchins who
pickpocketed the rich crowds at the markets that had everyone laughing. Even
Owen chuckled.

“What will happen to her, if Jimmy the Horse wins?” Owen asked
Mike quietly while Mei carried on. He looked around at the girls laughing, and
if not care-free than at least free of care for the moment. Mike puffed out his
chest.

“I would not let that happen,” the gang leader said. Owen
nodded solemnly at this.

“Spoken like a true leader,” Owen replied. “To answer your
question, I am going for Mei and the other girls’ sake. You may not be the best
refuge they could have, but you are a refuge.”

Mike frowned, as if turning over what Owen had said. His
English was good, but there were still places for misunderstanding. Finally
Mike nodded as if understanding that it was a compliment.

“No, Jimmy would be bad for us all,” Mike confirmed. “You can
go,” he said after a long pause. His eyes narrowed again as he looked at Owen.
“But I am still in charge—still the boss.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Owen replied breezily. “I would not dream of
interfering with your authority.” He hefted his cane. “As for hiding, I can
paint this I suppose, and no one will be the wiser.” Mike looked at the cane
and then at Owen.

“I believe we can do better than that,” the gang leader said
with a smile.

.

Chapter 12

Jinhao turned the corner making sure that she was not
being followed
.
In her persona of ‘Lady Jinhao’ she had
to be more circumspect than if she appeared as
the Claw
. Her inclinations to simply ransack the
dockside areas would not do under the circumstances.

She knew two things. One, that the mysterious
Quizi
Sorcerer thought that he
had killed Owen, but appeared not to be sure; two, that Owen was most certainly
alive. Lohan was never wrong about such things, and for Jinhao to raise a hue
and cry now might lead this Mr. Victor straight to Owen. What irked her most was
that Owen had not seen fit to get a message to her. Jinhao shrugged mentally.
She would forgive him as he had no way of knowing that she had returned from
her trip early. Mei, the Emperors Concubine, was safe now. It had taken much
less time than she had planned for that to be true. Still, if it turned out
that Owen was attempting some sort of protective gesture, she would kick him
herself.

The dockyards district was full of sailors and merchants from
every corner of the globe. Jinhao threaded her way through the throng, passing
giant laborers from the ice fields to the far North, their bright golden hair
and pale skin marking them, as did their height. She passed small dark porters
with copper-skin and ink black hair from the Americas. Jinhao paused as a
litter bearing a fat mandarin, resplendent in her silks, pushed its way through
the crowd going the other direction.

Not only was Hong Kong a trans-shipment point serving the
routes from Asia to Europe, it also was the only port that allowed Europeans to
trade with the Kingdom of Han, which the foreigners called China. The city was
jointly ruled by the British Empire and the Han Imperium. This was only allowed
by the Imperium because the Dragon Lohan ruled over the coast where the city was
placed. If you said that the Dragon forced the Han throne to accept the
arrangement, you would perhaps be more accurate. That is, if Jinhao knew the
Dragon at all. She turned down a relatively quiet alleyway, risking a quick
glance over her shoulder to see if her paid informant was still following.

Behind her came the marketplace storyteller. Besides making a
living telling tales in the streets, the unsavory man also made coin telling
those who wished it news of the underworld of the docks. She steeled herself to
face the smell of rancid oils and opium that clung to him like a mist as he
leaned towards her.

“I hear that you seek knowledge of the under-docks,” he said in
the deep voice of a trained speaker.

“The Sage says that to seek knowledge is the best of all
pursuits,” Jinhao temporized. “I am interested in only certain types of
knowledge, however.”

“Ah, then you have inquired in the right quarter,” he said
hopping from foot to foot. “I possess only the most discerning of information.”

“I shall be the judge of that,” she said, holding up a small
silk purse. The man’s eyes widened. The purse alone would be the equivalent of
a days’ take for him. His hand reached for it. Jinhao quickly snatched it back.

“After I hear the knowledge, I shall judge if it is worthy,”
Jinhao held the purse just out of his grasp.

“What is it that the Noble Lady wishes to hear?” he rasped.

“Tell me of
Quizi
Sorcerers that have recently appeared
on the docks.” She demanded. The storytellers head bobbed up and down in
agreement.

“The noble lady wishes to hear of the short man named Victor
and his tall mountain of a henchman,” the storyteller said with a shake of his
head. “They are very bad joss,” he pronounced. “They have the ill-eye of the
Dragon upon them it is said.”

“Have any other
Quizi
appeared lately?” She demanded.

“There have been no other foreign devil Sorcerers dockside
lately,” he replied mournfully at Jinhao’s frown. She held the purse before him
again. “There is the Englishman named Thomas but he has been at Jasmine’s more
than a year.”

“No, I am not interested in Thomas,” Jinhao affected a bored
tone in her voice. “They would have appeared in the last week or news of them
would have.”

“There have been no appearances of the foreign devils that recently,”
he said. “Nor has there been talk of such down here.”

“Are you certain?” the purse jingled.

“Yes,” he said. Then his face brightened. “Perhaps the noble
lady seeks knowledge of those who practice the foreign devil magic.”

“Perhaps,” Jinhao replied. “But I grow impatient. What do you
know?”

“There are many who seek the illicit power that the Devil Magic
makes,” he said hurriedly. “The latest I have heard of is Mike’s gang down in
Factory Street just this last week. They tell of an old relative who has
appeared to aid Mike in his fight against Jimmy the Horse. He carries the
walking stick of the Devil Magic.”

“I see,” Jinhao murmured, “and how does this old relative
appear?”

“I have not seen him myself,” the storyteller allowed. “But he
has long whiskers and is quite tall, though stooped with age, or so they say.”

Jinhao frowned. It could be Owen, the whiskers and the stoop
were easy enough to fake. But why would Owen ally himself with a street gang?

“Tell me more about Mike’s gang,” she ordered.

“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.”