Wade and the Scorpion's Claw by Tony Abbott

He smiled calmly, despite the fact that his chest was heaving. “Your father gave me this note to assure you. My limousine awaits. No more questions just yet. All will be revealed!”
    I took it from him as we hurried across the street against the light.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  Feng Yi will protect you. He has information for us. I’ll meet you at his restaurant. Be safe.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  — Dad
    It was Dad’s familiar scribble. I passed it to Darrell.
    â€œYou have a restaurant?” Darrell asked. “What kind of restaurant are we talking about? Never mind; I don’t care. I’m starving!”
    â€œWe all are,” said Becca, who was holding her arm now. She must have reinjured it during the attack, so it was a good thing I was carrying her bag.
    â€œYou need to rest,” I said.
    â€œI’m fine, Wade.” She smiled at whatever my face was doing. “Really. I’ll tell you when I’m not.” Her smile faded away.
    â€œA trusted friend works at the Red Dragon, a dim sum house in Chinatown,” Feng Yi said over his shoulder. “In his back room we may enjoy privacy. Neither Markus Wolff nor his soldiers will find it.”
    â€œMarkus Wolff,” I said. “Tall guy with white hair. Long leather coat?”
    â€œThe very same,” said Feng Yi
    â€œSo Leathercoat’s name is Markus Wolff,” said Lily. “And those guys work for him? He seems like such a loner.”
    He smiled. “They do work for him. The Teutonic Order employs all sorts of men—and women—to achieve their ends. As you know too well, they will stop at nothing to obtain every single relic of Copernicus’s astrolabe from its hiding place.”
    The mention of Copernicus zinged through me. I thought of the cave. And Becca in my dream, and here and now. And I thought of Sara. I wondered where exactly we were on the path to finding her.
    Feng Yi smiled thinly as he popped open one of the limousine’s doors. “Your father will be very happy to see you. Take a seat.”
    It was happening so quickly—discovering the tile, translating the diary, the legend of the Scorpio relic, the attack by star-wielding ghosts, and now this, sitting in a comfortable limousine on the way to a restaurant? To say nothing of where Leathercoat—Markus Wolff—was in all of this. Very near, I guessed, and yet invisible.
    Almost the entire car ride, Feng Yi was on his phone. Finally, he closed it. “The Star Warriors have vanished like shadows from the museum, which was only to be expected. They were gone before the police arrived in the upper gallery.”
    â€œWho exactly are they?” asked Becca.
    Feng Yi breathed in and out slowly. “Centuries ago, a group of legendary fighters called themselves the Star Warriors. They protected the emperor of China on his travels, using nothing but throwing stars. The Teutonic Order—Galina Krause—has somehow resurrected the ancient league of fighters to use as her agents in the Far East. They work for Markus Wolff now.”
    â€œYou use throwing stars, too,” said Darrell.
    â€œThe Star Warriors were onto something,” Feng Yi said. “The Ming court was known for the ingenuity of its hidden weapons. When thrown properly, these stars are perfectly balanced to achieve high velocity and deadly accuracy.”
    â€œDo you always have them with you?” I asked.
    The limousine wove down a crowded street of small boutiques and food shops. The air was thick with the noise of people, and the store windows were lit up and welcoming. “Even under my pillow,” he said. “The life of a Guardian, as you are learning, is one of extreme and constant danger.”
    Eighteen minutes later, we reached San Francisco’s Chinatown. The limo stopped outside a giant three-roofed arch shaped like a big green pagoda, and the car doors