Stealing the Dragon by Tim Maleeny Page B

Mitch.
    “The people who were on the ship—what have they said about what happened onboard?”
    “You mean what killed the crew?” asked Mitch.
    “Don’t you mean who killed the crew?”
    “Not if you ask the people who were onboard,” replied Mitch. “I’ve talked to almost forty men, women, and children, and practically every one says the same thing, with maybe two exceptions.”
    “Yeah?”
    “They say there were yaomo onboard,” replied Mitch. “That’s what killed the crew.”
    Cape raised his eyebrows but remained silent.
    “Demons,” replied Mitch. “Evil demons. They told me a demon killed those men.”
    Cape frowned. “Is that the Chinese equivalent of ‘officer, I swear I didn’t see anything’?”
    “That’s part of it,” Mitch replied. “It’s bad enough they got caught trying to slip into the country—these people do not want to be witnesses in a murder investigation. But remember, a lot of these people come from rural China. They can be very superstitious.”
    “You said there were two exceptions,” said Cape.
    Mitch nodded. “An older woman and her daughter. I think the daughter might have been raped by the crew.”
    “What did they say?”
    “That the crew was killed by tianbing ,” replied Mitch. “A ‘heavenly soldier.’”
    Cape squinted into the sun but said nothing.
    “The English equivalent would probably be ‘angel,’” added Mitch, shaking his head. Cape frowned, but Mitch didn’t seem to notice, adding, “So we’re looking for someone who is part demon, part heavenly spirit—sound like anyone you know?”
    “No,” said Cape, lying through his teeth for the second time that day.

Chapter Sixteen
     
    Hong Kong, 15 years ago
     
    “You are not thirsty,” Sally muttered to herself.
    Summer in Hong Kong was a cauldron, and the girls had been training outside all morning. The noon sun beat down like a hammer, bending the air into visible waves that flowed across the packed earth of the courtyard. Sally squinted and tried to concentrate on what Master Xan was saying, his form distorted by the shimmering air.
    “You have all been here five years.” His voice boomed off the walls of the enclosure as he turned and faced the perfectly straight line. Twenty girls ranging in age from nine to fourteen watched as he moved down the line, pausing to make contact with every one of them. “And soon, you must choose a path.”
    Sally stuck her tongue out, trying to catch some of the sweat dripping off her brow. As she concentrated on a promising bit of moisture at the end of her nose, her eyes crossed and she momentarily forgot about Xan. The drop smacked dead center on her tongue just as she realized everything had gone very quiet, as if the girls standing next to her had stopped breathing. Looking up she saw Master Xan had reached her spot in the line, only to find Sally crossing her eyes and sticking out her tongue.
    Sally turned her head slowly to her right, looking to her best friend for guidance, but Jun’s eyes were twice their normal size, her eyebrows so high they practically floated above her head. Whether in shock or fear, she was useless.
    Sally took a deep breath and locked eyes with Xan. With a somber expression firmly in place, she bowed her head slightly, keeping her gaze steady. Neither coy nor defiant, just respectful.
    Barely eleven and Sally already understood the power in a woman’s eyes.
    Xan’s scar seemed to jump even though his face didn’t move, a signal that usually meant he was angry or about to burst out laughing. Sally could never tell the difference. But today Xan merely held her gaze, his eyes boring into Sally as if he could read her mind. After a moment that seemed a lifetime, Xan nodded once and looked away, apparently satisfied with what he had seen. As Xan turned his back on the line of girls, Jun reached out and squeezed Sally’s hand tightly. Sally squeezed back and released the breath she’d been holding.
    Xan pointed