The Lazarus Curse Read online

  ‘Define: something.’

  ‘Death.’ The word fell reluctantly from Destine’s lips. ‘This vision was most insistent in its message. Cornelius: if you go to China, death will be waiting for you… or for someone you care for, the result is the same. Someone will die. It is inevitable, I feel that so clearly.’

  Quaint got up from his seat and began to pace about his office. He had seen that look in the Frenchwoman’s eyes before. Giving bad news tore her apart, but she had no choice, she was a slave to her premonitions as much as her conscience.

  ‘Madame, I’ve already decided that I’m going to China alone. That way I’m only putting my own life at risk. After what happened at Buckingham Palace, I’m not prepared to put any of my troupe in danger again. So you can relax, eh?’

  Destine looked anything but relaxed. ‘You know that it does not work like that, Cornelius. As much as you like to deny it, consequence and destiny walk hand in hand. This tragedy is already in motion. Someone close to us will die in China.’

  ‘So why are you here then?’ asked Quaint. ‘If this thing is so inevitable, why do you even bother warning me?’

  ‘Because one of these days you might finally take note!’ snapped Destine, fumbling for the conjuror’s hands, grasping them tightly. ‘Listen to me, Cornelius… there was something else within the vision. A message spoken aloud in the darkness… and I think it was meant for you.’

  ‘Message? What sort of message? What did it say?’ asked Quaint.

  ‘It said: ‘The immortal man shall see the end of the eternal man’s world.’

  ‘Sounds a bit ominous,’ was Quaint’s first assumption. ‘What does it mean?’

  ‘I wish that I knew, but surely it is safer for you to remain here in England until we can decipher more.’ Destine lowered her head. ‘I will beg if I have to.’

  ‘To paraphrase your own words… you know it doesn’t work like that,’ Quaint said, stroking her cheek. ‘I don’t have a choice. I never have a choice.’

  ‘As you wish, my sweet.’ Destine rose from her seat, and turned swiftly towards the door to Quaint’s office, not once allowing herself to look him in the eye. ‘I can see that your mind is set on this course, no matter what I say, but allow me to impart one last piece of advice: be careful that you do not convince others to follow in your footsteps. You have something of the Pied Piper about you.’

  Chapter XIII

  The Pied Piper

  Quaint’s journey towards his destiny began on the very next day. Onboard one of Her Majesty’s finest steam-powered vessels – and one unadorned with finery or accoutrements for discretion’s sake – the conjuror watched London’s docks fade into the distance from the top deck. The craft was named Victorious, and Quaint hoped it was a sign that he too would be victorious. It was a compact yet comfortable vessel capable of astounding speeds, so he was reliably informed by the ship’s captain; a relief indeed when Quaint considered the long trip across the oceans to China. He was not a fond lover of anxious waits.

  As his journey got underway, he pulled his overcoat tighter around him. The cold February air stole his warm breath from between his clenched teeth, and tightened the skin against his skull. It would be some weeks until he saw warmer waters, and they would not come soon enough. As the mist drew in to shroud the coast of England, his mind drifted towards the very large task that awaited him in China.

  Close to midnight, with the Victorious out in open water, Quaint made his way back up onto the top deck. He had discovered a nice little hidey-hole away from the curious eyes of the crew. The captain neither knew nor cared as to the reason for Quaint’s voyage, and the conjuror was glad about that. He cast his eyes skyward at the stars, letting them whisk him away with them. Everything seemed to be shades of black, as though the world was suddenly purged of all its colour. He was lost within his thoughts, deaf to the footsteps behind him.

  ‘Do you fancy a cuppa, Mr Q?’ asked a woman’s voice.

  Quaint’s blood ran cold instantly. Maybe it was the breeze. Or the throbbing clang of the ship’s engines playing tricks on him. Ignoring the voice, he continued staring out to sea.

  ‘They’ve only got goat’s milk, but it’s the best I can do.’

  This time the voice was too distinct to be machinery or the wind. It was strangely familiar – but it was also impossible. She couldn’t be here. More importantly, she shouldn’t be here.

  Quaint felt a sudden chill tingle the back of his throat and he realised that he was gawping. ‘Ruby? What the hell are you doing here?’

  ‘We’re just tagging along for the ride,’ Ruby replied, with a playful smile.

  Quaint didn’t feel much like playing. ‘This isn’t a bloody day trip, girl!’ he hollered at her. ‘My next stop is China, and I don’t have time to stop this thing and drop you off!’

  ‘That’s what we were banking on,’ smiled Ruby. ‘Why do you think we left it so long before announcing ourselves!’

  ‘We? Why do you keep saying “we”?’

  Ruby motioned over her shoulder at four more familiar faces. ‘Surprise!’

  Quaint slapped his hand over his eyes. ‘This cannot be happening … ’

  ‘We were all stowed away,’ announced Butter, with Prometheus and Yin and Yang bringing up the rear.

  ‘Hope you don’t mind, boss,’ said Yin.

  ‘We couldn’t let you have all the fun, could we?’ added Yang.

  ‘We only meant to wish you well on your trip, Cornelius,’ said Prometheus. ‘But when we arrived early, and seeing as we were already here, maybe you wouldn’t mind a bit of company!’

  ‘But… who told you I was leaving?’ asked Quaint.

  ‘No one actually told us exactly,’ said Ruby. ‘Last night Butter sort of accidentally overheard you talking to Destine when he was sort of, um… listening at your door. Then he sort of told me and I sort of told Prometheus.’

  ‘And I sort of mentioned it briefly to Yin,’ added the Irish giant.

  ‘And so naturally I informed Yang,’ confirmed Yin.

  ‘Naturally,’ said Quaint. ‘Anyone else that sort of might have been in on it?’

  ‘Of course not, boss!’ laughed Yang. ‘This mission is top secret!’

  Quaint ground his teeth. ‘It used to be.’

  ‘When we heard that the bloody Queen herself asked you to sort this Cho-zen Li bloke out, we couldn’t let you do it alone, could we?’ said Prometheus.

  ‘Especially as we helped you out at Buckingham Palace, and all. I mean… we’re involved too, right?’ asked Ruby. ‘We’re going to China together, Mr Q – just as a family should. Isn’t that what you always say?’

  ‘That rule doesn’t generally apply to journeys to your deaths,’ said Quaint.

  Prometheus’s mouth fell open. ‘Deaths?’

  ‘He was exaggerating, Prom!’ said Ruby, as her frown gradually evolved into a nervous smile. ‘You were exaggerating, weren’t you, boss?’

  Quaint rubbed his hands down his face. ‘Two things, Ruby: one, most of my adventures end up with one or more people dead. Not me yet… thankfully, but there’s plenty of time.’

  ‘And what’s the second thing?’ asked Ruby.

  ‘I rarely exaggerate.’

  ‘In that case, is it too late to get off?’ asked Yang.

  Yin laughed. ‘Something tells me it was too late to get off the moment we got on.’

  ‘Look, Mr Q, there’s no putting us off,’ said Ruby. ‘We’ve all discussed it, and we knew it wouldn’t be easy. When we found out that you were off to China without us, we were all pretty miffed. We had a little chat, and we didn’t think it was very fair.’

  ‘Fair?’ Quaint spat. ‘Ruby, this could be dangerous!’

  ‘Throwing knives about the place is hardly safe, is it? I could die tomorrow if one of my routines went wrong. Prometheus could be crushed under his barbells, or one of the twins could slip and break his neck. Come on, boss, would you rather die for nothing or to die for somethin
g?’

  ‘What idiot told you that load of codswallop?’

  ‘You did,’ said Ruby. ‘Just last week when I was catching a knife in my teeth with a blindfold on.’

  ‘Well, in future – ignore me!’ snarled Quaint. ‘And anyway, how did you manage to convince the captain to let you onboard? As you rightly said, this mission is supposed to be a bloody secret!’

  ‘We tell captain we on your side,’ replied Butter. ‘He say there are quarters of crumpet, but we tell him not to worry, as we travel in the cognito. But there too much boxes down there, and Prometheus is so very big.’

  Prometheus grinned. ‘Maybe you’d better leave the explaining to me, lad. The captain said we could hide down in the hold until we were seaborne. He said he was under orders to follow your instructions, so we just told him that we were your trusted aides.’

  ‘Well, now you can just go and un-tell him, can’t you!’

  ‘I think it’s a wee bit late for that, don’t you?’ said Prometheus. ‘This is a grand boat though. You must have made quite an impression on the Queen, eh?’

  ‘I make quite an impression on everybody, Prom,’ said Quaint. ‘And it’s not a boat – it’s a ship. But that changes nothing! There’s no way I can permit any of you to accompany me to China. I absolutely forbid it!’

  ‘We know that, boss, but ship is moving, yes?’ said Butter. ‘So we are already a company. At least, more company with us than without us.’

  ‘I have no idea what you just said, but whatever it is, it’s far from the point,’ said Quaint. ‘I simply won’t have it! I’m going to speak to the captain right away and see if he’s got a rowing boat or something that I can dump you lot in!’

  ‘But I thought you wanted to get to China quickly,’ said Prometheus. ‘Making a detour to find a decent port to drop us off in will take time.’

  ‘Who said anything about dropping you off in a port?’ snapped Quaint. ‘I’ll stick you in a rowing boat and let you fend for yourselves if I have to. I just want you off this bloody ship!’

  ‘Sorry, boss,’ Butter interrupted, ‘but we in open sea for long time now. Looks like you stuck with us, whether you like it or not.’

  ‘And let us be clear that I absolutely do not!’ roared Quaint.

  ‘But, boss, I’ve got a plan!’ protested Ruby. ‘And – no offence – most of yours don’t tend to work out so well, do they? Just hear me out.’

  Cornelius Quaint rubbed his jaw. This was not how he had planned things to go at all…but seeing as they were there. ‘A plan, eh? Hmm, well… I suppose there’s no harm in listening. Just until I drop you off, of course. So make it quick.’

  Chapter XIV

  The Answered Prayers

  Shi-Huang Bay, China

  Late February

  High atop Q’in Mountain in the Yahn Province of China, Cho-zen Li’s fortified palace was blanketed by cloud, hidden within the calcareous landscape that stretched from the Mongolian borders down through Peking before descending into treacherous marshlands on the shores of the Yellow Sea.

  The outlying villages settled at the mountain’s foot were as much in subservience to the rock as they were to its master. Cho-zen Li’s ancestral line went back before the great-grandfathers of the village’s elders. Legends told that the mountain had been but a single stone before Cho-zen Li arrived, and that he had raised it from the depths of the underworld, positioning his palace at its highest peak, proclaiming absolute rule over everything in its shadow. Eventually, over decades of regurgitated folklore the man, the myth and the mountain had almost become one; both just as impenetrable and both just as immovable.

  No one questioned Cho-zen Li’s rule any more, but over the years there had been many that had tried; those tired of being a slave, tired of living each day digging for silver in the mine at the mountain’s foot, never seeing daylight, separated from their family, their lives seemingly worth less than dirt.

  Every year without fail a foolishly courageous youth would talk bravely of ending Cho-zen Li’s reign, and how he was not prepared to live like a slave any longer. He would ascend the mountain to face the demon that dwelled there, but never return – in one piece, that is. Cho-zen Li would dispatch his riders to hand deliver the dismembered body parts of the foolishly courageous youth back to their village bit by bit; a reminder to any that dared question his rule. Over time, the villages gave up breeding the courageous and the foolish, and simply accepted their lot in life – but they never stopped praying. They prayed to the sun, to the moon, to anyone or anything that might listen to them. They prayed for salvation, for freedom, for a bright light to pierce the darkness. No one ever came, and so the villagers eventually gave up all hope. Yet the arrival of a steamship in Shi-Huang Bay proved that their prayers had not fallen on deaf ears after all.

  Cornelius Quaint fanned his face with his panama hat and loosened the neckerchief at the collar of his dark-blue cotton shirt. It was just gone eight o’clock in the morning and his shirt was already stained with sweat. The voyage had taken many weeks, yet he had eventually accepted, and was even a little bit thankful for, his troupe’s company.

  Shi-Huang was a horseshoe-shaped bay nestled deep along the coast not far from Tianjin, but a world away from anything that might be termed ‘civilisation’ as such. The bay was secluded and quiet and the days blended from one to the other frequently, despite there being no pressure upon them to do so. As well as wooden shacks and storage areas on the shore, a row of jetties led from an uneven, stone promenade. Around the bay, many small boats in various states of disrepair were moored arbitrarily, along with the odd pleasure craft affixed to moorings. The fishermen were already hard at work, and had been out on the water since long before sunrise. The sun was only barely above the horizon, seemingly just within reach, as if you could reach up and snatch it from the sky.

  As the Victorious slowed to a full stop, Quaint noticed the small gathering of folk along the promenade. Shi-Huang was unused to the sight of a steam-powered craft, and the locals stopped and stared as the beast spewed its smoke. Flocks of cranes departed the scene as the vessel’s chugging broke the silence of the bay.

  Ruby, Prometheus and Butter came up from below decks and joined the conjuror’s side. Ruby’s plan involved them infiltrating Cho-zen Li’s mountaintop palace under the guise of travelling performers, and apart from Quaint himself, the troupe were dressed accordingly in their circus costumes. Ruby wore a loose fawn-coloured skirt with matching waistcoat and ankle boots, topped off with a flourish-sleeved blouse, whilst Prometheus wore a simple black cotton vest, exposing his wolfishly hairy arms and torso, and Butter wore a collarless smock that one of the ship’s crew had kindly offered to him to replace his sealskin parka, which was wholly unsuitable for China’s climate.

  ‘Are you sure this plan is going to work, Mr Q?’ asked Ruby, tugging on Quaint’s sleeve. ‘Practising it on the ship is one thing, but this is real life.’

  ‘The best sort of rehearsal there is, Ruby, my dear,’ said Quaint. ‘When the pressure is on and there’s no safety net.’

  ‘Speaking of safety nets, I don’t feel good about dropping Yin and Yang off in a rowing boat a couple of days ago. Scouting out this Q’in Mountain place could be dangerous. They’re so far away and on their own. I’m just a little worried about them, seeing as it was my plan, and all.’

  ‘Ruby, your plan was sound,’ reassured Quaint. ‘It’s a damn sight better than anything I could have come up with. But as for the risks… I’m not the one that twisted my arm to come on this little trip, am I? Yin and Yang know what their objectives are, and as long as they hold their nerve, they’ll be fine. And let’s be frank, when you’re trying to blend in in China, what better disguise is there than to be Chinese? We all need to play our parts. Remember, we’re supposed to be travelling entertainers – so try to look the part. You could start with a smile.’

  Ruby beamed, fluttering her eyelashes. ‘Like this?’

  ‘A little less teeth,
dear, you look affected.’ Quaint turned sharply on his heel to face his troupe. ‘Right folks, grab your things, whilst I head ashore and organise us some transportation.’ He hopped from the Victorious’s deck onto the wooden jetty running parallel to the ship’s starboard side and strode off towards the promenade.

  ‘That man is a living bloody dynamo, so he is,’ said Prometheus, sweeping his hand over his bald head and through the dark brown hair that tickled the back of his neck. ‘Even when he’s dreaming, he wears holes in his shoes.’

  ‘Great leaders must always face lashes of hellfire if need arises,’ said Butter – causing Ruby and Prometheus to hold grins in check.

  ‘Lashes of hellfire? Where did you hear that load of rubbish?’

  ‘Mr Quaint told me,’ replied the Inuit.

  ‘Of course, he did,’ said Prometheus. ‘He’s his own biggest fan, that man.’

  Ruby laughed. ‘I don’t know, I think Butter gives him a run for his money! You certainly have a lot of faith in him, Butter.’

  ‘The boss has proved to me time and again, Miss Ruby. He is master of miraculous marvels, is he not?’ asked Butter. ‘Faith in him is easy, yes?’

  As the master of miraculous marvels strolled along the promenade, he spotted an old man sitting at the front of a horse-drawn cart, and a pair of coolies were loading sacks of rice into the rear from a flat-bottomed raft. The driver sat statuesque, a thin clay pipe between his shrivelled, sun-beaten lips.

  Quaint lifted his hat. ‘Lovely day, isn’t it?’

  The old man spouted an unintelligible babble of words, strung together loosely with some interjected guttural asides.

  Quaint nodded in understanding. ‘Basic Mandarin, eh? That certainly makes my life easier, as fluent in the language as I am,’ the conjuror replied, in correct Mandarin. ‘Although I thought I heard a touch of Wu dialect in there somewhere.’

  ‘I was born near Hangzhou,’ replied the old man.