the gang of soldiers, whose guns still tracked their every move.
Foison did not speak, though his eyes remained fixed on those of his sergeant.
‘This coat of yours cannot have come cheap,’ Chang whispered. ‘I did not think silk wore well enough for the expense.’
‘Silk is surprisingly warm,’ observed Doctor Svenson. ‘The north of China is very frigid.’
Chang ignored the interruption, watching the Sergeant, not ten steps away, and hissed into Foison’s ear, ‘What will your master say, I wonder?’
‘This changes nothing,’ replied Foison. ‘Three days. You are his branded stock.’
Miss Temple’s sharp call stopped Chang’s reply. ‘We require a
key
.’
A gate of iron bars blocked the tunnel. At Foison’s nod, the Sergeant came forward and unlocked the gate. Doctor Svenson held out his hand.
‘You shall not follow.’
Again Foison nodded and the Sergeant gave over the keys. They slipped past the bars, and Chang called to the soldiers as Phelps relocked the gate.
‘We will leave him further on, unharmed.’
The Sergeant opened his mouth to protest, but Foison shook his head.
Chang continued to walk backwards until the light had gone and their view of the soldiers with it. Then Chang drove a punch into Foison’s kidney and forced him to kneel.
‘What are you doing?’ Svenson whispered.
Chang had the knife at Foison’s throat. ‘What do you think?’
‘You gave your word …’
‘This man will kill us all. Don’t be a fool.’
‘If his men find him dead,’ hissed Svenson, ‘they will hunt us all the more!’
‘They are already hunting us. Without their leader, they will hunt us
poorly
–’
‘But you have given your word!’ whispered Phelps, aghast.
Chang wedged a knee into Foison’s back and pushed him face down in the dirt. ‘You do not know how he has wronged me.’
‘We do not,’ said Phelps, ‘but you cannot execute a helpless man –’
‘He is helpless because we have bested him. Are you an idiot?’
‘We have all given our word with yours,’ said Svenson. ‘I understand your impulse –’
‘Sanity is not an
impulse
!’
‘What on earth is happening?’ asked Miss Temple. She stood beyond the others, sagging against the wall.
‘This man must die,’ said Chang.
‘He cannot,’ said Phelps.
Svenson reached over to her. ‘Celeste, are you well?’
‘Of course I am. Have we not promised to let him live?’
Chang growled with frustration, then impatiently extended his hand to Phelps. ‘Give me your damned handkerchief.’
Having stuffed the cloth into Foison’s mouth, Chang bound Foison’s legs, pulling the knot as tightly as he could.
‘This kindness means nothing,’ he whispered. ‘If I see you again I will kill you.’
Foison remained silent, and Chang resisted a final urge to kill him anyway. He padded on to where he heard the others breathing.
‘I cannot see,’ he whispered. ‘Celeste, do you know where you’ve led us?’
‘Of course.’
‘Those men will pursue, and quickly –’
‘Yes, but do we seek the canal, or the front gate?’
‘Where are we
now
?’
‘The blasting tunnels. They run in all directions.’
The girl’s assurance frayed Chang’s patience. ‘How do you
know
this?’
Phelps cleared his throat. ‘There was a map of glass, sent by the Contessa –’
‘That is not it at
all
,’ croaked Miss Temple.
‘Perhaps we should press on,’ suggested the Doctor.
‘If we talk while we are walking, I will lose my way.’
‘And our pursuers will hear the echo,’ added Phelps.
‘Go how you please,’ Chang snarled. ‘We will follow like blind lambs.’
Chang’s poor eyes could discern but shadows in the chiselled ceiling, and he was forced to keep a hand on Mr Phelps’s coat-tails, last in line, wincing when his bare feet caught the edges of broken stones.
It was not the reunion he had expected, with Celeste Temple in particular. What in the world was
Phelps
doing here? And why had they
Foison did not speak, though his eyes remained fixed on those of his sergeant.
‘This coat of yours cannot have come cheap,’ Chang whispered. ‘I did not think silk wore well enough for the expense.’
‘Silk is surprisingly warm,’ observed Doctor Svenson. ‘The north of China is very frigid.’
Chang ignored the interruption, watching the Sergeant, not ten steps away, and hissed into Foison’s ear, ‘What will your master say, I wonder?’
‘This changes nothing,’ replied Foison. ‘Three days. You are his branded stock.’
Miss Temple’s sharp call stopped Chang’s reply. ‘We require a
key
.’
A gate of iron bars blocked the tunnel. At Foison’s nod, the Sergeant came forward and unlocked the gate. Doctor Svenson held out his hand.
‘You shall not follow.’
Again Foison nodded and the Sergeant gave over the keys. They slipped past the bars, and Chang called to the soldiers as Phelps relocked the gate.
‘We will leave him further on, unharmed.’
The Sergeant opened his mouth to protest, but Foison shook his head.
Chang continued to walk backwards until the light had gone and their view of the soldiers with it. Then Chang drove a punch into Foison’s kidney and forced him to kneel.
‘What are you doing?’ Svenson whispered.
Chang had the knife at Foison’s throat. ‘What do you think?’
‘You gave your word …’
‘This man will kill us all. Don’t be a fool.’
‘If his men find him dead,’ hissed Svenson, ‘they will hunt us all the more!’
‘They are already hunting us. Without their leader, they will hunt us
poorly
–’
‘But you have given your word!’ whispered Phelps, aghast.
Chang wedged a knee into Foison’s back and pushed him face down in the dirt. ‘You do not know how he has wronged me.’
‘We do not,’ said Phelps, ‘but you cannot execute a helpless man –’
‘He is helpless because we have bested him. Are you an idiot?’
‘We have all given our word with yours,’ said Svenson. ‘I understand your impulse –’
‘Sanity is not an
impulse
!’
‘What on earth is happening?’ asked Miss Temple. She stood beyond the others, sagging against the wall.
‘This man must die,’ said Chang.
‘He cannot,’ said Phelps.
Svenson reached over to her. ‘Celeste, are you well?’
‘Of course I am. Have we not promised to let him live?’
Chang growled with frustration, then impatiently extended his hand to Phelps. ‘Give me your damned handkerchief.’
Having stuffed the cloth into Foison’s mouth, Chang bound Foison’s legs, pulling the knot as tightly as he could.
‘This kindness means nothing,’ he whispered. ‘If I see you again I will kill you.’
Foison remained silent, and Chang resisted a final urge to kill him anyway. He padded on to where he heard the others breathing.
‘I cannot see,’ he whispered. ‘Celeste, do you know where you’ve led us?’
‘Of course.’
‘Those men will pursue, and quickly –’
‘Yes, but do we seek the canal, or the front gate?’
‘Where are we
now
?’
‘The blasting tunnels. They run in all directions.’
The girl’s assurance frayed Chang’s patience. ‘How do you
know
this?’
Phelps cleared his throat. ‘There was a map of glass, sent by the Contessa –’
‘That is not it at
all
,’ croaked Miss Temple.
‘Perhaps we should press on,’ suggested the Doctor.
‘If we talk while we are walking, I will lose my way.’
‘And our pursuers will hear the echo,’ added Phelps.
‘Go how you please,’ Chang snarled. ‘We will follow like blind lambs.’
Chang’s poor eyes could discern but shadows in the chiselled ceiling, and he was forced to keep a hand on Mr Phelps’s coat-tails, last in line, wincing when his bare feet caught the edges of broken stones.
It was not the reunion he had expected, with Celeste Temple in particular. What in the world was
Phelps
doing here? And why had they
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