Demon Child by Kylie Chan Page B

‘Make sure you take me with you. I want to speak to him as well.’
    His eyes crinkled up as the world changed around us. ‘Don’t scare him too much.’
    I came around on a brilliant peacock-blue couch in a room of shining crystal walls. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, lookinglike something grown rather than crafted, the light gleaming from within its transparent tentacle-like arms. John was sitting cross-legged across from me on another sofa, his eyes closed in meditation.
    I sat up and rubbed my eyes. ‘How long this time?’
    He took a deep breath in and out. ‘Forty minutes.’
    ‘Shit.’
    ‘Language, Emma. You insult our host.’
    ‘He’s not even here.’
    The Dragon surged through the crystal wall in huge blue True Form. The walls weren’t crystal; they were the interface between air and water. ‘Yes, I am.’
    ‘Hey, Qing Long,’ I said. ‘Take human form so I can give you a hug.’
    He folded up into his tall slim human form and held his arms out. ‘Deal.’
    I went to him and embraced him around his waist — the highest I could reach — and he kissed the top of my head. He turned to John with me still in his arms. ‘You guys ready?’ His voice changed to patient exasperation. ‘Oh, Ah Wu, look at your feet.’
    I sighed with similar exasperation. The stitches had come open again and blood stained the bandages.
    ‘This had better be good, Ah Qing, we have a war to prepare for,’ John growled. He picked up his walking stick and gingerly stepped off the couch to stand next to us.
    Qing Long released me and I went to John and put my arm around his waist. He rubbed my back affectionately.
    The Dragon bowed slightly and put his hands in his turquoise and silver embossed sleeves. ‘It’s not good. It’s very bad. But I think, in the circumstance, it is the right thing to do.’
    John’s expression darkened. ‘What is?’
    ‘I can’t say. You’ll see when you see. Just come with me and all will be made clear.’
    ‘This is all very mysterious and disturbing,’ I said as I walked between them down the corridor. It appeared as a normal breezeway with columns and a roof, but instead of open walls the sides were the water–air interface. Our reflections followed us as we walked, and flashes of brilliance lit the other side, blurred by the water.
    At the end of the breezeway, the Dragon held one hand out. The water interface in front of us shimmered and he walked through. ‘This way.’
    We followed him down a wide series of steps and he opened a pair of gates at the end. We entered what appeared to be a cell complex, with barred doors and long corridors. I stopped.
    ‘Don’t worry, Emma, these aren’t cells,’ John said, reading my mind.
    ‘This is my storeroom,’ the Dragon said, leading us to the end of the corridor.
    As we passed the cells I saw inside: it was a treasure house. Each cell had shelves around the walls; some held pieces of Celestial and mundane jade, carved into delicate sculptures that enhanced their value; others held ancient gold Buddhist icons and priceless Imperial porcelain.
    Another pair of doors, this time wood and red, opened before us and we went down a narrower set of steps.
    Qing Long stopped at the bottom and turned to eye me. ‘I would appreciate it if you would not tell anyone that this is here, and what’s in it.’
    ‘You have my word,’ I said.
    The Dragon nodded, his turquoise hair shining in the reflected light of the crystals illuminating the tunnel. ‘Thank you.’
    He led us through another barred gate and generated a ball of light so I could see. This tunnel was dark and featureless, with large solid wood doors at regular intervals on either side. The light didn’t penetrate to the corners, putting us in a pool of brightness with the darkness around us.
    Qing Long stopped at the end of the tunnel and put his hand on a door that was embossed with the circular motif of the Blue Dragon. The door split vertically into two pieces, which slid