Dragon Bones (Red Princess 3)

“That’s not what happened,” she said. And it wasn’t. Instead of tormenting her, the truth was beginning to feed her strength. “Everything that could have been done for my daughter was done.”

“But you could have done more,” he pressed. “You could have taken her to America—”

That thought had been looping in her head for a year. If only they had moved to Los Angeles earlier, Chaowen might never have gotten sick. If she had, she might have had better medical care. But here in this cave, at what Hulan supposed was the end of her life, she finally understood that those were only wishes that could never be known or fulfilled. She had done everything humanly possible to save her daughter.

Hulan noticed that Michael was speaking again.

“When she died, you got what you think you’ve always deserved—an empty heart.” He spoke his conclusion triumphantly, not realizing that he’d failed in his task. His ignorance was an advantage Hulan could exploit. “But it doesn’t have to be that way. Open yourself, Hulan, join me. Not as a follower, but as an equal. Think what we could do together.”

She almost had to laugh. How could he think that his flirting these last couple of days had meant anything to her? There was a big difference between being flattered by a man’s attentions and giving up her moral center to him.

“Some people deserve happiness. Some people earn it. You’ve earned it, Hulan.”

“Maybe living righteously doesn’t deserve a reward.” She knew the truth now, and it gave her the fortitude to fight for her life.

“But what about those who do wrong?” As he spoke, Hulan realized that, for all of his supposed awareness, Michael Quon was completely blind to the things he didn’t want to see. “Don’t you think Lily deserved punishment for the things she did?”

“She was not an honest person, but she didn’t deserve to die.”

“Mankind has come to believe in science and the exactness of math,” he offered thoughtfully. “For every action there is a reaction, and all that. But maybe the ancients had it right when they trusted in karma, fate, and getting your just deserts. Certainly you’ve seen people who deserved the worst but received no punishment.”

Hom was dead now. Within arm’s reach was the ax that Su had used. The thing was covered with bits of flesh and blood, but she could also see that the blade was made of some type of chiseled stone, which had been strapped to a wooden handle.

Quon answered her question before she asked it, just as he had last night at dinner. “It’s a chime,” he explained. “White jade is the strongest stone in the world, and it makes a clean cut. Every one that Brian stole and Lily put up for sale I bought and brought back to its rightful place.”

“But not for its rightful use,” she pointed out. “It was supposed to make music, not be an instrument of torture and death.”

He ignored the comment and asked, “Where’s the rest of it, Hulan?”

“What?”

“The chimes. I’ve been looking for the rest of the set.” His eyes glittered in anticipation.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I choose to believe you,” he said mildly. “In that case, give me the journal.”

“I don’t keep one.”

“But Brian did. Once I knew you had it, our path together was clear. You can help me find the rest of—what is it, Hulan?—a tomb or a treasure chamber?”

What had been right in front of her these last years as she’d tracked the activities of the All-Patriotic Society finally dawned on her. “Your travels, Michael, I understand them now,” she said. “You went to ancient sites along the Yellow River. Then you came to the Yangzi. The Society’s growth mirrored your journey and you used the watershed of the rivers to proselytize.”

He stared into her eyes, and she stared back, reading the calculation in his. Should he respond to her? A subtle shift deep within him signaled his decision, and her courage expanded yet again.

“You hear so much about the Yellow River as the birthplace of Chinese civilization,” he said at last, “but we know people traveled. We know that Yu came this far south. I first came here because I was following his legend—through poetry and art, then myth, and finally fact.”

“To see the nine provinces. To see the places where Yu stopped the floods. And you found more followers.”

“So much had to do with planting seeds,” he admitted, and Hulan felt another surge of hope. She could draw him out. She could distract him. He traced something that looked like a maze in the dirt between them.

“Do you know what this is?”

She shook her head.

“Ha!”

She looked at him squarely. “I never pretended to be anything other than ignorant.”