The Girl with Ghost Eyes (8 page)

I forced myself to begin my breathing practices, to envision light radiating from the Golden Stove point behind my navel. I needed to harness this. Control my anger. Shape it, as a talisman gives shape to a Daoshi’s will. There was something here I could learn from.

Liu Qiang, of the Fifth Ordination, had outwitted a Daoshi of the Seventh Ordination. A weaker sorcerer could trick a stronger
sorcerer into casting the wrong spell.

I smiled at that, and my grin was hard and sharp as a steel blade.

A Daoshi of the Second might be able to find a way to overcome a Daoshi of the Fifth.

I might be able to destroy Liu Qiang, even without Father’s help.

I changed out of the infirmary clothes and put on an atonement robe. The robe was made from linen the color of sand, with black trigrams embroidered on its wide sleeves. The robe flowed around me, and I moved through a sequence of martial arts postures to make sure it would accommodate my motions.

Upstairs, the temple was dark. I was unaccustomed to finding darkness in the large chamber, since Father lights candles and lanterns for the ancestors day and night. I lit a single candle to see. My peachwood sword lay on the floor, two spells written on it in grease pencil—my spell to bring it with me to the spirit world, Liu Qiang’s spell to cancel mine.

Rage began to flow inside me once more. The peachwood sword had belonged to my husband, and to my mind it still did. I used his sword to fulfill his ambitions. And that one-armed weakling, that filth Liu Qiang, had written a spell on Rocket’s sword.

I wiped both spells off the wood and gathered some matches, a bagua mirror, and my rope dart. I like the rope dart. Half a pound of iron shaped like a dart, tied to a rope. The rope dart can slice an enemy like a knife or stab into him like a spear. When the weight gets spinning fast enough, it can shatter stone.

Jiujiu the spirit gull had warned me when the ghost Shi Jin was approaching me in my sleep. For the gull I burned a talisman of protection. Whatever predators might hunt her in the world of spirits would find her slippery, evasive. For a day, the gull spirit would glide untouched out of the jaws of monsters. She had protected me, and I was protecting her in turn.

I took a flask of lamp oil for Mao’er. We use fish oil in our lamps, and cats love to lick it up. Later I would make mice out of paper and burn them for him. Mao’er would be rewarded for helping me and sparing the spirit of my father’s eye.

I needed to eat. In order for my spells to work at their strongest, there were purifications I needed to undertake. I could eat no grains or meats. On the wood stove I fried greens and herbs in peanut oil, seasoning them with bean paste and spice powder.

I hadn’t forgotten my promise to Mr. Yanqiu. I heated a cup of water and brought it outside. He was shivering when I found him, and his tiny body was curled up for warmth.

“It’s not that cold out,” I said, surprised.

“It is if you’re a naked eyeball,” he replied, and I thought that if he had teeth, they would have been chattering.

“Here, then, Mr. Yanqiu,” I said, pushing the cup of warm water toward him. “Climb on in.”

He eyed me suspiciously, reaching out a tiny white hand to test the water temperature. “Oh,” he said, “oh, that’s nice.” Without any further hesitation, he lifted himself up over the teacup’s rim and splashed down into the warm cup of water.

“How is that, Mr. Yanqiu?”

The gurgling sounds he made could only be described as blissful, so I went inside and came back out with my meal and a pair of chopsticks. Sitting on the rickety wooden steps, I ate my food. It was pungent and salty and I loved every bite.

I told my father’s eye about the last few days: Liu Qiang and the soul passport, Shi Jin and the ambush, Father sacrificing his eye. Father casting the wrong spell. The rise of the Xie Liang tong. Shuai Hu, the Buddhist monk who frightened my father.

The cuts on my stomach were itchy, and I put down my plate. “I’m going to kill Liu Qiang,” I said to myself.

Mr. Yanqiu heard me. He treaded water in the teacup. “You said he’s stronger than you, Li-lin. How does that work?”

“A Daoshi of the First Ordination is a novice. Barely any power at all. I hold the Second Ordination, so I have twice as much power as a novice. A Daoshi of the Third would have twice as much power as me. A Daoshi of the Fourth has double that. Liu Qiang is a Daoshi of the Fifth Ordination.”

“So he has eight times your power?”

“That’s right. A Daoshi of the Fifth is considered a senior student, not a fully ordained priest.”

“And your father has four times as much power as he does?”

“No,” I said. “Daoshi of the Sixth and Seventh are considered fully Ordained priests. A Daoshi of the Sixth has twice as much power as a Daoshi of the Fifth, but Daoshi of the Sixth and Seventh can also call upon the power of their lineages.”

“What does that mean, Li-lin?”

“Eighty generations,” I said. “My father holds the Seventh Ordination. In himself, Father is four times as strong as Liu Qiang, but he also draws upon the power of the eighty generations who came before him.”

“So that’s …”

“The power of eighty generations of men of the Seventh,” I said. “Hundreds of Daoshi like Liu Qiang could work together and still fail to match my father’s power.”

“You should wait for your father to recover,” said the eyeball. “You can’t hope to stand against a Daoshi of the Fifth Ordination.”

I shook my head. “I will find a way. Whatever he’s up to, I will stop it, and I will end him. His magic may be a great deal stronger than mine, but he’s still human. I can break his bones. I can slit his throat. He carved me up like a fish, Mr. Yanqiu. He cost Father an eye. I’m going to make him pay for everything he’s done.”

The eyeball grunted in the water. He knew there was no changing my mind. “So what are you going to do, Li-lin?”

“Well, someone must have helped Liu Qiang through immigration. It had to be someone who has wealth and connections. That just leaves the Six Companies, Mr. Wong, and the Xie Liang tong.”

My father’s eye stirred in the water. He leaned back, listening. “Which do you think it is?”

“Well, the Six Companies run legitimate businesses. They don’t break American laws if they can help it. I can’t see them hiring a sorcerer to kill anybody, and I can’t think of any reason they’d want to go after my father.

“We know Mr. Wong has the money and the connections. He bribed officials to get them to allow me in, after all. And his son Tom was with Liu Qiang. But there has to be more to it than that, Mr. Yanqiu,” I said. “Father is one of Mr. Wong’s sworn brothers. Mr. Wong would never take action against him, and Tom wouldn’t hurt me.

“That just leaves the Xie Liang tong. I always thought they were ridiculous, like children wearing clothes made for adults. But Dr. Wei says they’ve grown powerful.”

“And you think they helped Liu Qiang come into the country?”

“I think it’s likely.”

“So, first stop, the Xie Liang headquarters?”

“It isn’t time for that yet,” I said, shaking my head. “The Xie Liangs wouldn’t have dreamed this up on their own. If they’re involved, it’s because someone recruited them.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know yet, Mr. Yanqiu. I don’t know why anyone would try to harm my father.”

“Does he have enemies, Li-lin?”

I responded slowly. “No. Not in America, anyway. And we left China a long time ago.”

“So why was he afraid of that monk?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Yanqiu. That might be the most baffling piece of information. I’ve never known Father to be afraid of a living human.”

“Do you think the monk could be behind the attack?”

I thought for a moment. “It doesn’t seem likely,” I said. “I can’t see a Buddhist recruiting gangsters and sorcerers to do his bidding. But there’s something very odd about my father being afraid of this Buddhist monk. I think I need to find out more about this man Shuai Hu.”

The eye leaned back in the teacup, watching me. “He might be dangerous, Li-lin,” he said.

“I know. I won’t confront him. I just want to ask around, see what I can learn about him.”

“That’s not the whole reason,” Mr. Yanqiu said.

“Oh?”

“No, Li-lin. You’ve lost face. Liu Qiang tricked you, and it cost your father his eye to get you out of Liu Qiang’s trap.”

I hung my head. “What does this have to do with the monk?”

“You want to investigate Shuai Hu because you’re trying to prove something, Li-lin. You know your father is afraid of him. You want to gain face. You want your father to see how brave you are.”

“You’re right,” I said. “Investigating the monk could get me hurt, or worse. The martial arts of Shaolin are legendary. Shuai Hu is a mystery to me. Even my father finds him intimidating. It would be foolish for me to try to learn more about him.”

“I’m glad we agree,” Mr. Yanqiu said.

“But it would be more foolish to sit and wait,” I said. “When Father wakes up, he’s going to fix everything. The best I can do is give him all the information he needs.”

“Li-lin, please don’t take foolish risks,” the eyeball said, splashing in the teacup.

“I need to learn everything I can, no matter the risk,” I said. “This monk terrifies my father. I need to find out why.”

9

Chinatown’s Buddhist monastery was on the third floor of an apartment building on Washington, between Dupont and the Flower Lane. I could see white and yellow blossoms in the Flower Square. Hills rose to the north. The Sub-Treasury Building towered to my east. I walked toward the monastery with Mr. Yanqiu riding on my shoulder.

On the street outside I caught sight of a boy, maybe ten years old. He was playing with a balloon made from a pig’s bladder, tossing it up and catching it.

“Child,” I said, “I would speak with you. What do you know of the monks who live here?”

“The baldies?” he asked. I laughed and nodded.

He held his balloon in one hand and sized me up with his eyes. “What will you give me to tell you about them?”

I had no money or sweets to bribe him. All I had were empty threats. “Child, I am called Xian Li-lin. Does that name mean anything to you?”

“Xian,” he said, thinking. “Like the Daoshi? You’re the exorcist’s daughter?” The boy took a few steps back.

I smiled grimly. For once there was an advantage in being feared.

“Now,” I said. “You will tell me how many baldies live in that room.”

“Twenty-six,” a voice said from behind me.

I swung around and faced a tall man in orange Buddhist robes. His head was clean-shaven. He may have been the tallest man I’d ever known except for Rocket, but where Rocket’s face had been sincere and youthful, this man’s face seemed jovial and somehow ageless. His mouth was open in a lopsided grin. Sizing him up, I saw that his shoulders were broad, and his arms were thick with muscle. If he had even a moderate amount of training, he’d be a good fight.

I glanced him over, looking for weapons. Belted at the waist of his orange robe, he carried a wooden drum shaped like a fish. Aside from the drum and its striker, he was unadorned. He wasn’t even wearing the peachwood beads monks usually strung into bracelets and necklaces.

“Don’t you have better things to do than frighten innocent children?” he asked. The boy turned and ran away.

“I have come to the monastery to speak with Shuai Hu,” I said, mustering as much authority as I could into my voice and bearing. “I am Xian Li-lin, the Daoshi’s daughter.”

He leaned back, crossing strong arms in front of his chest. “You’re a Daoshi too, aren’t you?”

I blinked. No one ever seemed to realize that. Long ago I had given up on reminding them. “Yes,” I admitted, “I am a Daoshi too. How did you know?”

“I have known many dangerous females in my time. It is never wise to underestimate an enemy.”

My eyes narrowed. I snapped a glance at Mr. Yanqiu. He understood me, and started to climb down from my shoulder. Then I turned back to the muscle-bound monk. “Are we enemies, then?”

The bald man shrugged and then looked away. “I honestly hope not, Daonu Xian,” he said, addressing me respectfully. “I have no wish to harm you.”

His statement irritated me. It reminded me of all the men who thought I was merely a girl, that I posed no threat. “You think you could harm me, Shuai Hu?”

His lopsided grin grew broader, acknowledging that he was, indeed, Shuai Hu. “I try to do no harm.”

“You haven’t answered my question. Do you think you could hurt me?”

“You know, Daonu Xian, I expected a visit from your father, weeks ago. I thought he would come to me with flaming talismans and a goosewood staff. I would have fled and never come back. But the days went by, with no sign of the great Daoshi. Until today. Why has he sent you now?”

My mouth opened to shoot a sharp retort, but then I stopped. Shuai Hu didn’t know why I was here. He thought Father had sent me. He didn’t know Father and I had been attacked. He wasn’t a conspirator.

It was a relief to hear. There was something unnerving about this man, immense and strong, with his lopsided smile and his happy cheeks, and I couldn’t figure out what it was. Looking right at him with my yin eyes, I saw nothing more than a human man. Yet there was also something feral about him, something dangerous and uncontrollable. He reminded me of a bird in a cage with an open door, trying to decide whether to remain on its perch or fly through the opening.

Mr. Yanqiu finished climbing down my robe. He ran to take shelter in the shadows.

“My father would only come to you with talismans burning if you were a monster,” I said. “You aren’t a monster, are you, Shuai Hu?”

It was his turn for a surprised blink. “I try not to be.”

“What does that mean?”

“Why did your father send you, Daonu Xian? Why now?”

“No one sent me,” I said.

This was going nowhere. The monk wasn’t going to tell me anything.

I unstrapped the bagua mirror from my back. It was a nine-inch octagon made of bronze, with a small round mirror in the center. The eight trigrams were engraved in the bronze frame. Every possible three-line combination of yin and yang, standing for all the energies of the universe, met along the frame of my bagua mirror. Focused by the laws of nature, the mirror would unmask any illusion.