Chasing Moonflowers, page 20
The door slammed shut. Ling froze as footsteps rushed toward her. A white dusting fell onto her arm. Before she realized it, Captain Stewart grabbed her.
“Did you ever hear of curiosity killing a cat?” He gripped another handful of white powder and rubbed it on her face.
She couldn’t move fast enough to escape. “A cat has nine lives.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Your manners are repulsive.”
“Opportunity only knocks once,” she said, quoting a traditional proverb on reflex.
The captain grumbled, scanning her smug expression. “It’s only baby powder. I could certainly make this worse. Now, young lady, the eyes? No time for games.”
“What did you do to Dr. Shaw?” Ling nudged her uncle with her foot. Please wake up, she pleaded to him in silence.
“I have kept my part of the bargain,” he said, not answering her. “He’s alive. The eyes?” She yanked on her uncle’s shirt. Captain Stewart’s face scrunched. His eyes grew frantic, searching the room. “Did you arrive empty-handed?”
Ling said nothing.
“This is not a game.” Captain Stewart’s voice boomed. “Inflammatory!”
When wind blew the door open, the captain let go of Ling. He turned around and whipped out his knife. Ling took the chance to sprint down the hall and out the door. She was on her way. However, in her panic, she didn’t notice Office Brand returning to his post. She ran straight into him.
“Are you making trouble at camp?” Officer Brands said, red in the face. He had a tight grip on her arm.
“Hand her to me,” said Captain Stewart from behind. The men exchanged glances. “Why were not you here? She entered on her own. Where are the men?”
“My stomach….” The officer started.
“I am not interested in personal issues. Return to your station at once.” Captain Stewart stomped his feet. “I’ll be in to reprimand you once I decide what to do with her.”
Officer Brand clutched his torso, lumbering inside.
“You are as plain as day outside.” Captain Stewart pinched the ends of his frayed mustache. Rolling the hairs between his fingers, he curled the ends back into place. He studied Ling with uncomfortable intensity.
From the corner of her eye, shadows moved along the side of the building. Knowing Enlai and his men were progressing with the plans brought her relief. This could be over soon. Her eyes found the writing on the arch again. The ancient letters were also written in the grimoire at school and in the books on Dabak’s shelves. The herbs hadn’t made her invisible, she now she knew. It was these symbols that shielded her from the evil eyes of men.
“What sort of folkcraft….?” His face froze for a moment. “Where are your shoes?” The captain tied her wrists together with rope and dragged her into nearest tent. The closer to the encampment, the more horrible the stench became.
“I thought it was dinner time.” His face contorted in repulsion. He secured the rope to a stake in the ground. When he walked outside, he flagged a soldier returning from the woods.
“Wh—what has happened here?” the captain shuttered. His silhouette stood tall next to a person bent in the middle. Ling sat on the dirt floor, struggling against the restraints. She reflected sourly that if she had not given her knife to Dabak this would be easier.
“The food,” a solider answered in a labored tone. He wretched, spilling his insides. A horrible smell seeped through the burlap fabric of the tent. The commotion escalated outside.
“Well…make yourself useful. Do—do not….” The Captain clenched his jaw in frustration.
“Captain, are you okay?”
“Shut up! Watch her.” The captain stomped away. She wiggled and twisted her hands free. It was easier than she had expected. Between Tam and Stewart, she’d had quite enough for the day.
Chaos ensued in the camp. There wasn’t much time to think, or was there?
She raised her arm. Touching the star at the top of the tattoo, she gathered inspiration. Then, dipping her fingers into a bowl of dirty water, she mimicked the writings from the outpost’s walls and arches on the cloth over her head. Drawing from the wounds on her feet, she drew the runes she memorized over the past few days. Mixing scripts from the bronze age and language of the old ones, she invoked the cover of protective magic.
People screamed. Tents collapsed around her. Not a single person tried to enter or force her into something else. She remained grounded until it was the right time. She had escaped several terrible situations through timing and luck. It wasn’t in her nature to fight. Her training was all in healing.
Then someone called her name. It was first a whisper. The sound crawled up the nape of her neck. She hugged her knees together, hoping Captain Stewart wouldn’t return and soldiers wouldn’t demand justice for their poisoned soups. Instead, Enlai stuck his head in.
A sigh of relief escaped her lungs.
“Where have you been?” He blinked quickly. “We must leave. It’s time.”
She believed him and took his hand. Night had faded. They raced to the bottom of the road, jumping into the vendors’ carts. Two men each towing at the handles like oxen. Large crates had replaced the previous stock of bread and vegetable baskets.
“Where’s Dabak?” Ling observed the outpost as it shrank from their view.
“We got him out.” Enlai lifted the cloth next to them, showing her an array of weapons. “The men and I carted out what we could. The rest… well….”
Before he finished, the outpost lit up like a candle. When she turned back in amazement for a second, the scalding heat smacked her in the face. A magnificent array of colors streamed from its melting walls. The blaze engulfed the windowless building. The men hauling their treasures sped up. Then an explosion sent the entire structure tumbling down.
Thirty-Three
The blast resounded through the mountains and down to the bay. In the dim morning light, fisherman and farmers witnessed the smoke billowing from the jungle. The haze brought Ling back to the Dreamlands. The faint cries of the twins twisted her heart.
By the time Ling arrived at the pier, the black cloud had dissolved into gray. While Enlai returned to the Walled City to speak with his bosses, Ling headed to the docks. Smoke had settled over the shoreline.
Ling approached the stands, suddenly conscious of her appearance. Torn clothes, punctures around her eyes, and scratches down her arms. Ash and dirt covered her face. She was sure she was a sight to behold.
The merchants stared, dumbfounded by the fire on the hillside.
“Did you come from there?” the fruit seller asked her.
She nodded.
“Another fight?” he asked, getting ready to leave.
“Hopefully, this is the end of one.” A crowd gathered around Ling as she shared the events of the previous night.
A crazed woman with a cloth over her head pushed herself through the crowd. She wore a linen smock stained by sweat and dirt. The hole in Ling’s hand throbbed.
Lunging at Ling, the woman screamed. “What of the twins?”
Ling jumped backwards. Others in the crowd tried to block the raving woman.
“Ling, I am your mother.” The exhausted woman untied the scarf around her head.
For a moment, Ling couldn’t place the person with the sunken eyes, papery skin, and streaks of white hair. Her features resembled that of the decrepit oracle more than her mother’s. When Ling realized her error, she rushed to the woman’s side.
“It looks like we both have been through hell.” Ahma produced a meek smile. “What of the twins?”
Ling hung her head. Now that Dabak was free, she still had to find them. She looked up, noticing a black car approach the docks. A short list of possible people came to mind: Headmaster Lee, Captain Stewart, or Emma.
Instead, to her surprise, Dabak stepped out in clean trousers, joining the cluster of merchants, strikers, and local residents. They cheered for him. He was taken aback by the greeting.
Ling squeezed around a dozen people and hugged her uncle. “You are safe.”
“All thanks to you.” The corner of his eyes crinkled. “I am still not out of the woods entirely. But at least now I can help with the twins. Have you heard anything?”
Ling stepped back, shaking her head. Her uncle looked better but bore signs of his ordeal. His glasses sat lopsided on his black and purple nose. Bald patches dotted his scalp. Bruises stained his face. He was in worse shape than her.
“Thanks to you both.” Dabak bowed. As Ahma rested her hand on Ling’s shoulder, Dabak reached over for a handshake.
Ahma didn’t extend her hand. “Why did you not pay your way out of jail?”
Ling felt her mother seething.
He shook his head, brushing off the awkward moment. “I apologize for the inconvenience. Your daughter has gone out of her way to help me.” His brow wrinkled as he lowered his head. “I will make this right.”
Ling preferred not to question him in public. More than a dozen pair of eyes stared at them. “We cannot waste time on quarrels. We must focus on the twins.” She turned to Ahma. “We have waited ten years for answers. What’s a few more days?”
Her mother breathed out. “What do you need me to do?”
Ling was at loss for words. If only someone could tell her where Wupo had taken her brothers. Had the Red Society determined the twins’ location? Would they be able to enter Dreamland? Did an enchantment conceal her brothers, preventing them from being found?
As if she had wished him into existence, Enlai ran up next to Dabak. He was breathing hard and bent over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.
“Pray, step back,” Dabak bellowed. The center of the crowd opened up.
Enlai narrowed his eyebrows, coughing between words. “Wupo… brothers… did not… gone….”
“Take deep breaths. It is difficult to understand you.” Dabak fanned Enlai with a handkerchief. As he waved the cloth back and forth, Ling spotted embroidered initials: “WSL”
“Wait.” Ling pointed at the cloth midair. “Where did this come from?”
“These pockets.” Dabak unfolded the fabric, smoothing out the letters with his fingers. “Initials of Langley’s son. William Samual Langley. He went missing eight years ago. A sad tale that I hope is not repeated.” He choked up.
WSL also matched the initials etched under a jar in Lady Tun’s secret cave. Another missing child? It was a mystery she hadn’t wanted to solve. The desperation of the creature on the boat came back to her. It had begged for the whereabouts of a William. Finally, she realized who the creature had been. It was her step-uncle, Lord Langley, William’s father. He was right. She did know the location of his son.
“How did you get in contact with Langley? Has he returned?” Ling asked. Aunt Marcella had sent Langley a message about Dabak’s arrest.
“His staff answered the phone,” Dabak said as Enlai regained his wits.
They turned to Enlai as he spoke. “Wupo escaped. She has disappeared into the jungle.”
“Did they find out anything else about my brothers? Where are they hidden away?” Ling’s chest heaved. They had lost a crucial opportunity.
“One man said she mentioned the mountains.” Enlai lowered his head.
That was not much help. The wilderness was a large place. Tracking them would take days. Ling needed more information.
“The women from the rescue party found only a silver coin in the oracle’s possession. Wupo refused to respond to questions. After I left, no one would go near her. She threatened them and their families with an everlasting curse. Her chants sounded like a demon drowning, spitting and sweating everywhere.” He handed her a round metal piece. It bore the serpent symbol. Kit had handed something like this at the kitchen table. The day she had learned that a woman was enticing children with candy.
“Can you repeat the words?” She might recognize the phrase, even if recited in an ancient language.
“Ask Mata, she transported the cart from the Walled City. She heard the chanting.” Enlai pulled Ling to the edge of the road.
Mata emerged from behind a tree. A bold red scarf was wrapped around her shoulders. “Sir, ready to go?” Her vehicle was partially covered by a bush.
“Mata, do you remember the eerie chants?” Enlai asked. “Ling might be able to understand the language.”
Mata nodded and let out a guttural roar. “Wupo made that noise over and over again. She bowed and bellowed: rrr-lou-lok-kiu. People ignored her, as they ignore most things. I jotted everything down.” Mata unfolded a piece of paper from a pocket on her chest. “I tried to find a pattern. It was a strange and awful worship.”
On the note, Mata had approximated the phrases with Tangwa characters. There was no direct translation. To anyone else, the sequence was nonsense. But when Ling repeated the prayer under her breath, her fingers tingled.
“I found a gardener who taught me the ancient symbols in a text. He may be able to translate Mata’s observations.” Ling motioned down the pebbled road in the direction of her school. “It’ll be a quick trip by trishaw.”
Dabak caught up to them. He addressed Ling. “The shopkeepers told me what you did for me.” He patted her on the back.
“We must be going….” she started to explain, but Dabak cut in.
“Let’s first see someone at your school. The church has a printing press. Wai may have more information about the twins.”
Ling nodded. She would explain that the salve healed Wai. He had a connection to her family through the moonflowers. He could read ancient writings, but was he also familiar with ancient practices? Had he learned all this in the Guianas?
In her many days of searching for answers, Ling found only more questions.
Thirty-Four
Sitting together in the rear of the three-wheeled cart, Dabak squeezed Ling’s hand. Mata breathed hard, pulling them uphill through a path cut through the jungle. On one side, insects screeched, while the other side featured sheer drop-offs.
Enlai had stayed behind. There was room in the cart for only two. He took over calming the crowd of local residents and protestors and kept Ahma from losing her wits about the twins. His Red Society men were combing the hillside for Wupo. Ling still had hopes of finding the twins alive.
The road jostled them in the un-cushioned seats. Rubbing ointment into bruises on Dabak’s arm, she broke up the congealed blood under his skin. The technique sped up healing.
His voice trembled. “I am out because of you. This is what I know: the police discovered a pool of blood at Lady Tun’s shack. Traditional herbs were scattered along the path. They pressured me to confess to a murder even though there was no body.” He whispered the last part.
The body had gone missing entirely. She recollected Lady Tun’s hollowed-out stare. With her uncle’s information, there was a real possibility that Lady Tun was the Walled City Wupo.
“First, the police accused me of throwing her into the ocean. I swore on Wong Dai Sin I hadn’t done anything wrong. Lady Tun had many enemies. However, to control damage to the family’s reputation, the police wanted to pin the crime on a local. During the process, officers changed the narrative. They instead invoked my skills as a surgeon, claiming I had butchered the body in the Walled City. That was when I knew they had nothing solid.” Dabak looked blankly out into the bay. “The Police Captain was determined to put me away at any cost. He has secrets.”
Ling nodded. Her head hurt. “I used those against him.” The captain’s weaknesses had been Ling’s advantage. She reached in her bag and showed Dabak the jar of eyes.
“What are those?” He was taken aback.
“They found me. On the night of Lady Tun’s death. They must have found their way into my bag. I am certain they belonged to the previous Wupo, the one mentoring Mei. I can ask the eyes questions, and they show me visions.” Ling had much more of her story yet to tell.
Dabak held onto his stunned expression. “Did you ask it about the twins?”
“It did not have much. I glimpsed a clearing next to a massive camphor surrounded by flowering tea trees.” She closed her eyes, remembering a warmth glowing from the other side of the roots. The kidnapper would be there too.
“The camp must be on the South side of the jungle. It’s a relief that it’s not over the peak.” Dabak wrote down a note. His eyebrows flexed with agitation. “I do not know the location of all the camphor trees, but farmers might know. You have suffered much.” He patted her knee. “I am ashamed to have put you through this. Your father will be angry.”
Ling’s mind flittered from one thought to another. She could not even process the fact that Dabak had confirmed his belief that her father yet lived. The most important goal right now was the twins. “Can we focus on finding Guo and Kit?”
He dabbed the handkerchief over his brows. “Wai, the gardener, with whom I gather you are already acquainted. Well, he has a powerful sense of smell. I should have asked earlier; do you have an item belonging to the twins?”
She rummaged around in her bag. Her brothers often hid things. Inside, rolled in one of their bunched-up shirts, was Kit’s slingshot. She touched the handle. The toy edged her to tears. She missed them so much.
“That will do,” said Dabak. “The blue flowers I use in Aunt Marcella’s medicine will help as well. There is a batch of them at the school.”
“So, Wai the gardener is from the Guianas?” She recalled a letter from this country in Ba’s paperwork. Had her father visited there?
“You read the letters.” Dabak leaned back. “He is the only person in the world who can cultivate moonflowers. He is blooming them in the greenhouse until Langley builds our own atrium.”
Ling fidgeted with the strap of her bag. “Did the medicine man ever meet my father?”
Dabak stiffened. “This gardener, he is not able to recall his life prior to the island. Marcella and I have been working to recover his memories. Rishi mushrooms, ginseng, and special formulations…. Marcella and he came about the same ailment. Wai, regrettably, ingested too many petals. The antidote eats away links in the brain, or at least that is the hypothesis.”
