Stealing the Dragon

Chapter Thirty-nine

Hong Kong, 10 years ago

The old nurse told Xan she would sit with Sally until she regained consciousness, then notify him right away. She held the girl’s hand and sang to her softly, stroking her hair.

Sally’s eyes moved feverishly behind their lids as, for the first time in months, she dreamt of her parents. She could remember their faces when she awoke but nothing else. No sense of whether the dream was happy or sad. Just their faces and eyes-full of love, devoid of judgment, telling her without words she still had much to do.

Sally opened her eyes and started at the face leaning over her. She recognized Ping as a nurse who had been at the school since Sally first arrived. Last year, Ping had watched over Sally for two days while she recovered from a concussion.

The old woman smiled and leaned back, patting Sally’s hand.

“Welcome back, little dragon.”

Sally blinked herself awake and tried to sit up, groaning as she pushed against the pillows.

“Ping, where is…?” she began, then looked past the old woman’s shoulder at the cot next to hers.

Jun lay there, her eyes closed, arms straight by her sides. Her skin already looked marbled, as if she had slowly turned to stone while Sally slept.

“I’m so sorry….” said Ping, her voice trailing off as she watched Sally’s face. “Master Xan insisted we put her here, next to you, until he returned.”

Sally appeared not to have heard. She swung her legs over the side of the cot and stood shakily. Ping started to object but saw Sally’s expression and moved aside. “You’ll probably want some time alone,” she said, stepping toward a curtain that separated this part of the infirmary. “Master Xan will want to know you’re awake.”

This time, at the mention of Xan’s name, Sally turned, her brow furrowing. For a moment Ping feared the girl might have sustained another concussion and was disoriented, but then Sally’s face cleared and she smiled briefly at the old nurse.

She said, “Some time alone would be nice.”

Once Ping had left, Sally sat next to Jun and ran her hand slowly across her face, feeling Death’s cold embrace in every fingertip. After a long moment, she bent down and kissed Jun lightly on the lips, then put her mouth next to her ear and whispered.

“It should have been me.”

Sally blinked, but no tears came. The part of her that shed tears had atrophied to the point that she no longer expected them. She knew Jun was long gone from this body, and no amount of sorrow or crying was going to bring warmth back to her flesh. Sally turned toward the curtain and breathed deeply, trying to clear her head. Xan would be here soon.

Though her dream remained elusive, the image of her parents had flashed into her mind again at the mention of Xan’s name. And though she didn’t yet know what she was supposed to do, she suddenly realized where she had to go.

Sally reached for the pile of clothes sitting on her nightstand. Slipping out of the compound in broad daylight would be difficult, but not impossible. After all, it was what she was trained to do.

She was over the wall before Xan reached the infirmary.

“She’s gone?”

Xan’s scar writhed back and forth as his expression changed from impatience to disbelief. But when it finally settled down, Ping could have sworn Xan looked more relieved than angry.

“She’s gone,” he repeated quietly. Ping remained mute and nodded.

Xan looked around the infirmary, now empty save for Jun’s body. He took in a deep breath and nodded to himself before pulling the curtain closed. Then he turned to face Ping.

“Tell no one.”