Strong Mystery: Murder, Mystery and Magic Books 1-3 (Steampunk Magica) (26 page)

Chapter 14

Owen hobbled forward across the floor of the
restaurant
. A wig, dark glasses and glued-on thick whiskers hid
a multitude of his European sins. The restaurant that was the meeting place for
the two gangs was run by a very oily-appearing old woman named Zhang, He
wondered how she felt about two gangs of unruly and deadly street urchins
taking over her restaurant. That they were deadly was clear from the way that
the members of the two gangs had faced off against one another, faces grim,
holding on to their makeshift weapons. Mike swaggered forward, placing a hand
on a hip.

“So, it is good that you want to talk rather than fight,” Mike
said. “You know who I am! I am Mike!” He folded his arms and waited with them
crossed. A young man in a silk variant of the lower class’s tunic and wide
pants stood forward. He had a scar that ran in a straight line down the side of
his face from just below his right eye to his thin cruel lips.

“I only agreed not to fight so that not too many of my troops
would suffer from broken nails or sprained toes,” he boasted. The youth cast an
exaggerated glance over Mike’s line of gangers. The look changed upon seeing
Owen but he recovered quickly. “I thought that I might as well treat you and
your . . . gang,” his lip curled up into a sneer as he said it, “to some good
food for a change. I am Jimmy the Horse!” He made a grab at his crotch. “Some
of you will soon know why!” He ignored the way the women of Mike’s line
murmured angrily, holding their weapons tighter. Jimmy pointed at Owen. “Who’s
the greybeard?”

“Oh that is simply my uncle’s cousin’s brother,” Mike replied
easily. “We all call him
Sha-Tui.
Mike raised his hands as if in a
shrug. “I said I would look after him. Family. What are you going to do?”

“Long legs eh? Huh,” Jimmy the Horse folded his arms in front
of his chest. “I wouldn’t have thought you knew who your own mother was much
less whatever you call him.” Jimmy shook his head. “I don’t like it. I don’t
like it at all.”

Owen stepped forward. He had to deflect this kind of talk
before it wound up with Mike’s side into doing something foolish. Mike’s people
held anything that could hit as a weapon, from an old rusted rake to a board
with nails in it, and they were ready to use them. Jimmy’s line of warriors on
the other hand all held long knives, short swords and spiked maces, all
burnished bright. Owen wondered as he spoke how profitable Jimmy’s street business
must be to allow them that sort of kit. He did remember to stoop.

“I am but an old man,” Owen rasped out. “Please, let there be
no fighting on my account!” He looked at Jimmy directly. “Besides I hear there
is food. We should eat, should we not?”

“We should,” Jimmy the Horse declared deciding to give in on
the point of Owen’s presence. He patted Mike on the back hard enough to leave a
bruise, Owen was sure. Mike looked as if he was being offered a mangy rat to
eat for a moment and then put on a brave face.

“Let us eat together,” he said to his people. “We may as well.”
The gang members looked dubious for a moment until the old woman, Zhang, opened
the doors to the banquet room beyond the front hall. The aromas that came from
the room were enough to convince a horde of starving women and men to stream
towards the laden tables that lay within. Owen, Mike, and Mary came at a more
dignified pace behind them, accompanied by Jimmy and a young man who looked
half-Han and half-Westerner to Owens eyes.

“This is my personal retainer, Huang,” Jimmy said by way of
introduction. The young man looked at them all with slight distain and in a curl
of his lip. After a moment’s awkward silence they all continued walking into
the banquet room. Owen had taken an instant dislike to Huang. He was one of
those pretty boys who knew he was, and besides, Owen was willing to bet he was
Jimmy’s
fire caller
.

Once they were all seated with Jimmy at the head of the table,
Mike, Mary and Owen in that order sat down the left side, with Huang and some
of Jimmy’s bully boys to the right. After a short speech which could have been
taken as insulting to Mike by Jimmy, the food and wine began to flow.

Owen was pleased to see how Mike dealt with Jimmy’s barbed
comments so adroitly. That Jimmy was trying to goad Mike was clear, but Mike
refused to rise to the bait. They all continued eating and drinking, Owen
watched his own wine bowl closely so as to not accidentally over-indulge. He
noticed Mike was doing the same thing and made a mental note to praise him
later. At that moment, Mary startled, looking at Huang across from her.

“Mind where you place your feet sir,” she said in careful
Mandarin.

“What,” Huang said with a smirk, “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Very well,” Mary said with a sigh. She resumed eating, her
gaze focused on her plate.

“I said,” Huang’s voice rose louder over the noise of the
feasters. “that I don’t know what you mean, bitch!’ I think that you should
apologize!”

In the hush that followed this pronouncement all eyes turned
towards Mary. She blinked, looking down at her plate, utterly silent. Jimmy the
Horse who had been watching everything carefully, picked up his wine bowl.

“You should learn to keep your woman in line better,” he said
to Mike, drinking a large draught. He held out his bowl wordlessly to have it
refilled, his eyes intent on his rival gang leader.

“She is not my woman,” Mike replied quietly. “Her name is Mary,
and she belongs to no one. Perhaps it is you who should keep better control of
your baboons,”

“No one calls me a monkey!” Huang cried. He pushed his chair
away from the table as if to rise up. Mike looked at him as if he were a
barking dog, then calmly turned to Jimmy the Horse.

“I have no idea what he is going on about,” Mike protested
innocently. “I was referring to your pets. You do keep pet baboons do you not?”
Jimmy guffawed loudly, gesturing for Huang to stand down.

“Yes, I do,” Jimmy admitted, still chuckling, “which means
either your spies or your information sources are very good! I must say Mike
that you keep your cool admirably, and have your people well-disciplined also.”
He stroked his chin with a finger thoughtfully. “Perhaps we should do business
together. I suspect fighting you would hold little profit for either of us.”

At that moment the tablecloth between Mary and Huang suddenly
smoldered, then burst into flames without warning. Huang leapt to his feet
shouting,

“She is attacking us,” he screamed. His hand whipped back, then
forward to send a stream of fire towards Mary. Owen reacted by springing to his
feet, cane pointed. He first stopped Huang’s stream of fire, then quenched the
table blaze, by calling upon his water tattoo.

“He did it!” Huang drew a long knife from his belt, pointing it
at Owen. “He’s a Sorcerer!!”

Loyal fighters from both sides scrambled to their feet with
various shouts, grabbing their weapons. Only the width of the table kept them
from coming instantly to blows. Owen raised his cane, a blindingly bright flash
of light accompanied by a loud boom came from the cane tip. Everyone froze in
place.

“Calm down,” Owen shouted. “There has clearly been a misunderstanding!”
He gathered Mary to him with one hand, his cane held up in a cautionary way in
the other. “We and the rest of Mike’s group shall retire peacefully. We shall
resume this in the morning when our heads are all clear of the wine!” He looked
towards Mike and Jimmy the Hand. Mike had his sword out aimed at his rival gang
leader. Jimmy held a rather large bore air pistol aimed at Owen’s face. A very
large bore, Owen observed.

“You are no old man,” Jimmy accused. “Nor are you harmless.”

“Sorry about that,” Owen said. “We wanted to make sure that
your tame
fire caller
there,” he nodded towards Huang, “did not start
anything. Looks like he did anyway.”

“What does that mean?” Jimmy asked suspiciously.

“You should ask him,” Owen said blandly with a nod towards
Huang.

“I never did nothing!” Huang protested.

“Mike, I do believe that we should leave.” Owen looked at Mike.

“It will depend on him,” Mike said. The gang leader kept his
sword aimed at Jimmy’s throat, while Jimmy the Horse kept his gun aimed at Owen.
Jimmy’s eyes shifted from side to side weighing by some sort of gang leader
calculus, Owen thought. Finally he spoke.

“Alright,” Jimmy said. “You can leave,” He gestured with his
pistol. “We meet here tomorrow,” he said to Mike. “Bring the Sorcerer with
you.”

“I will bring or not bring who I like,” Mike snarled.

“Mike,” Owen interrupted, “Not now.” He started backing towards
the door, one arm still around Mary. If she manifested her fire now, it would
not be pleasant. Owen hoped that his aura was dampening her power sufficiently.
Mike and the others of their group slowly followed, all of them walking slowly
backwards. The tension was thick enough to cut with a proverbial knife. Owen
only hope it would not be in anyone’s back.

How wonderful,
Owen thought.
All it would take is one
of us to stumble and there will be a bloodbath. Jimmy’s boys would jump all
over us.
While confident that he could stop a number of them, Owen could
not stop all of them, he knew. Someone would fight and likely die. However, no
one stumbled. He did not breathe easy until they reached the outdoors. The
girls crowded around Owen, Mary and Mike, hefting their makeshift weapons.
Mike’s gaze took them all in. Mike nodded after doing a silent count.

“All right,” Mike said firmly. “Gou, Jin, scout ahead for
traps. Everyone else stay together. We are going home.” His eye rested on Owen
and Mary. “You, I will talk to when we get there,” He pronounced coldly.

The walk back was a nightmare of twisted alleys, the tension
radiating from the others as they waited for Jimmy’s band to ambush them. Mary
walked beside Owen dejectedly. Finally she responded to his inquiries as to how
she was.

“It is all my fault,” she whispered gloomily.

“What? How do you see that,” Owen turned his attention from
scanning the nearby rooftops to the young woman beside him.

“If my blessing as you call it, had not gotten away from me, we
might be eating dessert at Jimmy’s restaurant, and making peace with him,” she
snarled.

“Do not fancy yourself,” Owen said dryly. “First of all, Jimmy
was trying his best to provoke a fight. Do you honestly think that that oaf
Huang would do anything without Jimmy’s say so? Second, did it really feel to
you that you lost control?”

“Well,” she said hesitantly, “that was what was confusing. It
did not feel as if I had lost control.”

‘Exactly,” Owen said. “Keep in mind that you were not the only
fire
caller
at that table”

They had reached the old factory that served as home to the
gang safely. The look outs waved Mike and the others inside. As they reached
the threshold Mary grabbed Owen’s arm.

“Then I am not at fault? That is such a relief, thank you!”

Owen places his hand over Mary’s in a gesture of reassurance,
whatever he was going to say however was interrupted by Mike stopping dead in
front of them.

“Who the hell are you?” Mike demanded. Owen peered around his
shoulder to see who he was talking to. He saw Jinhao in her black adept
clothes, sword scabbards hung over the back of the western style chairs at the
mess table. Across from her sat Mei. Both of them were bending their elbows
with drinking bowls, and appeared to have become fast friends.

“Oh, hello Jinhao,” Owen said calmly.

Chapter 15

“Well, now I can see why I haven’t heard from you.
Mary
is indeed a fine figure of a woman. Hardly seems like your sort, but that is as
may be.” Jinhao looked at Owen with an arched eyebrow. After Mike had been
appeased about Jinhao’s appearance, the two had stolen to off to Owen’s room to
talk.

“It is not like that at all,” retorted a flustered Owen. “I am
Mary’s teacher.” Jinhao smiled at that.

“Oh, I am certain that you are a most excellent teacher,”
Jinhao said blandly.

“Now see here Jinhao,” Owen proclaimed, “It is no laughing
matter! Mary is an untrained fire caller, and therefore a danger to herself and
others.” Owen rapped his cane on the factory floor. “Besides, there is the very
real danger that there will be a gang war that Mikes’ lot will lose on the
morrow. That means that your little drinking friend there, as well as everyone
in this building will be either dead or in the grip of a sadist named ‘Jimmy
the Horse’. Not to mention that I seem to have picked up a European Sorcerer assassin
and his brute of a giant pet.” Owen told her of Findley and the encounter at
the dock with Mr. Victor and Mr. Percy.

“Ah yes, I believe that I have met the gentleman although not
his pet as you call him.” Jinhao said.

“What,” Owen exclaimed. “How did that come about?” Jinhao
relayed all that had befallen her since she went looking for Owen.

“He seems to believe that you are dead, but still seems to be
looking for your body,” Jinhao concluded. Owen nodded thoughtfully at that.

“Yes,” he muttered around a frown. “He is probably looking to
take my head back as proof of his success. Very traditional and very expensive.
The custom started as a way to be sure that the target could not be re-animated
against the hirer you know. That indicates very deep pockets indeed. Now, who
among the old peerage could I have pissed off that much I wonder?”

“Wait,” Jinhao said curiously. “You mean that among your people
even after you kill an enemy, that enemy may still attack you on behalf of
another enemy who uses Sorcery?”

“Necromancy actually. It requires someone who has mastered the
element of
Spirit
. They then have to be willing to subvert that element.
It usually ends badly for the operator with them using up their own life force.
Ironic really when most Necromancers are searching for eternal life in the
body,” Owen explained. “That is why there are so few Necromancers left. We
rather frown on that sort of thing in Britain nowadays. Our run in with Renton,
shows how few and far between they have become. His activities were not even
recognized as such. Still, the custom persists.”

“I do not like your people at all sometimes,” Jinhao said.

“Neither do I,” Owen replied. He looked at Jinhao with a pained
look on his face. “Speaking of which, why do these urchins insist on using the
most prosaic English names that they can find, rather than what I am certain
are perfectly fine Han names?”

“Because they sound exotic and fashionable,” She shrugged with indifference.
“They appear to be names of power and strength.” She looked at him. “Surely you
are not comparing the fashions of Han street thugs to raising the dead.”

“I am simply pointing out that every people have distasteful
customs,” Owen replied wryly. He frowned. “No, it appears that this Victor
shall have to give up the name of his employer, which means that we shall have
to capture him alive.”

“Difficult when he wants to behead you,” Jinhao observed.

“Yes, there is that,” Owen allowed. “But it cannot be helped.
If I kill him first, then his employer simply sends another assassin. One that
I might not catch in time.”

“Let me help,” Jinhao said.

“You already have,” Owen replied. “Truly Jinhao, I wish that
you would go be safe somewhere. A sorcerous assassin can be a very deadly
thing. ”

“I knew it!” The Adept accused. “You are hiding out here out of
some noble but misbegotten sense that I need protecting!”

“Well, not as such you know,” Owen protested. “I honestly
thought that you would still be dealing with that business with your sister. It
is just that you are no Sorcerer. I am sure that the old life-debt thing that
you keep quoting does not apply to hired Magian-killers”

“Owen,” Jinhao looked at him with great patience. “It does
apply. When will you recognize that we are stronger together than apart?”
Seeing the beginnings of protest on his face she pressed on. “When we looked
into the case of the missing fishermen, who killed the beast?”

“You did,” Owen said.

“And when we were investigating the case of the curious
clockworks man who found the key?” Jinhao asked.

“You did,” Owen answered lamely.

“Speaking of Renton, who killed him when his re-animated
monsters were attacking us?”

“You again,” Owen said with a sigh. “See here Jinhao, you have
made your point. No need to belabor it.” Owen looked down at the ground for a
long time. Finally, he raised his head, grinning at her ruefully. “Besides I
really did miss you, you know.”

“And I you,” she said softly. “But no more toughing it out
alone, do you hear?”

“Right,” Owen agreed with something of his usual cheer. “I
should have known that turning that Demon that was trying to kill you was a
mistake,” he quipped, referring to their first meeting at an inn outside of
Hong Kong.

“I did know that it was a mistake,” Jinhao said with a bland
face. “I decided to let you rescue me anyway.” She held out her hand. “I
believe that one usually shakes hands when agreeing on a partnership.”

“Quite,” Owen responded cheerily. “To us!” He took her hand in
his own. Jinhao nodded firmly as she squeezed it back.

“Now that that is done,” she said shortly. “What is our next
move to catch this Victor?” Owen shook his head.

“We have to first save the gang from this oncoming war,” he
asserted.

“Why?’ Jinhao asked bluntly. “They nursed you back to health
with their own advantage in mind. Why help them?”

“Because if we do not,” Owen said seriously, “All of them will
either be slaughtered or pressed into prostitute cribs.”

“Why not simply kill this Jimmy the Horse, and be done with
them then?”

“Have I mentioned that I have missed you?” Owen smiled at her.
“Your approach is delightfully direct and refreshing. I am afraid that in this
instance though, it will not serve. Another gang will come along when we are
not about. If we can get these two groups to work together they should be able
to hold off any other group that wishes to cause them trouble. Besides,” he
said forcefully, “it is not right that these women have no prospects of
bettering themselves simply because they were tossed aside at birth.”

“Why Owen,” Jinhao remarked. “You may become a reformer after
all!”

“Hush, evil wench!” Owen replied sternly. “I am in danger of no
such thing,” He looked up at the ceiling while stroking his chin with free
hand. He looked back down at Jinhao. “I simply hate to see waste. Besides it is
an interesting problem for the mind to get the two sides to come together in
peace.”

“Oh, I see,” Jinhao said evenly. “It is purely an intellectual
exercise then.”

“Quite,” Owen said. “I am glad you understand.”

Jinhao refrained speaking more on the subject. She couldn’t
help but reflect though that her Grandfather would never have shown such
concern for a group of non-caste women outlaws.

“Well I suppose that we should see about getting some sleep
then,” she said, attempting to be practical. Discovering that Owen was alive
and well brought a lightness to her heart that she would never admit to the
Englishman. She could barely admit it to herself. She glanced over at the
blankets crumpled in a pile on the hard floor. “I see that they provide only
the finest of sleeping accommodations,” she remarked.

“It is a bit rough,” Owen allowed. “I could say that you get
used to it, but that would not be true.” He moved towards the door. “I will see
about getting some more blankets, shall I?”

“This shall work quite nicely for me I think.” Jinhao placed
her sword harness against the pillar. She began rearranging the blankets to her
satisfaction. She looked up at him, “Do you really intend for us to stay with
these people and avert their petty dispute?”

“Yes,” Owen replied seriously. “I do. With their aid after
that, we may perhaps come up with a plan to capture friend Victor.”

Jinhao settled herself against the pillar with a blanket for a
pillow between it and her. She smiled at him. “Well then I wish you luck in
finding more blankets!”

Owen looked back at her crossly and went out the door. He
returned shortly with two of the girls carrying large bundles of blankets and
pillows. Owen thanked them both and began arranging the additional blankets to
his own satisfaction. Then he then laid down, placing his cane within easy
reach. Owen settled a pillow against his own pillar and smiled. With a wave of
his hand the oil lamp that had been providing them with illumination went out.

“It seems that they managed to find some pillows as well,” he
observed innocently in the darkness.

“They look nice,” Jinhao allowed from her nest of blankets.

“Of course, I would never dream of disturbing your no-doubt
comfortable arrangement,” He vowed to her.

“Oh, of course,” Jinhao replied. “I shall simply lie here and
dream of feather beds.” After a pause, Owen spoke again.

“Jinhao,” He said softly.

“Yes?” She responded. One word came back to her from the
darkness.

“Catch.”

She brought up one arm and caught a pillow that came towards
her. She placed it between her head and the pillar. She smiled into the friendly
dark.

“Jinhao,” Owens voice came from the darkness.

“Good night, Owen,” she said sleepily. Best to stop him before
he becomes uncomfortably sentimental, she thought.

“Ah, good night, Jinhao,” came the reply.

~ ~ ~

Jinhao came awake quickly when the door was kicked in
.
Rolling off to the right of the pillar that served as her pillow, she was up on
one knee with her throwing spikes at the ready before the splinters of the door
hit the floor. Fortunately for their intruder Owen was also quick. He used his
trick of heating an opponent’s weapon to disarm a raging Mike. Jinhao held her
hand.

“Mike,” Owen exclaimed. “What the Horned One are you about?” He
stood there cane in one hand.

“Where is she,” Mike snarled, “What have you done with Mary?”
He was bent over holding his gun hand in agony, an air pistol at his feet.

“Mary?” Owen echoed. “What makes you think I have done anything
with Mary?”

“She is not in her room,” Mike came upright glaring at Owen.
“If you have seduced her, you will pay for it,
Quizi
Sorcerer or no!”

“I have done no such thing,” Owen protested. He reached for his
trousers, cane still held on Mike like a gun. “She should know better than to
go out walking or some such nonsense. We must find her!”

At that moment, little Mei who stood as the leader of the look outs
appeared in the doorway. “Mike,” she said to him grimly. “A messenger from
Jimmy the Hand has come. You will want to speak with him.”

“Put him in the mess room,” Mike ordered. “Mary is missing and
we must find her.”

“It’s about Mary that he has come,” Mei said unhappily. “You
will wish to see him,” she repeated.

“What?” Mike said. “What can he know about Mary?”

“He claims that Jimmy the Horse is holding Mary for killing
someone named Huang,”