Stealing the Dragon

Chapter Forty-three

Hong Kong, 10 years ago

Xan returned to his quarters and sat heavily in his chair, not bothering to turn on the lights. He’d had harder days, perhaps, but none longer. He wanted to drink but lacked the energy to make one, inertia winning out, at least for the moment.

You are getting old.

The thought occurred to him just as he felt the edge of the knife against his Adam’s apple.

“Welcome back, little dragon,” he sighed, sounding more resigned than afraid.

Sally removed the knife and stepped from the shadows to stand a few feet in front of the chair, just beyond striking distance. She nodded once in greeting.

“I thought you left,” said Xan.

“I came back.”

“To kill me?”

Sally shrugged. “We’ll see.”

Xan almost smiled. “You think you could?”

Sally did smile. “Without a doubt, Master Xan.”

Xan gestured toward the low couch against the wall behind Sally. “Please.”

Sally took a step backward and sat without looking over her shoulder. “Did you know my parents were murdered?”

Xan studied her. “You went to see Li Mei.” His tone even, not accusing, more curious than anything.

“Was that a yes?”

“No,” replied Xan, “I suspected it-we all did. Was it coincidence a yakuza was driving the truck that killed them?” Xan shrugged. “But does it matter now, little dragon? You killed the man that murdered your parents.”

“No.” Sally shook her head. “Jun did.”

Xan nodded. “I only knew for certain when I saw the pictures you took. Wen had covered his tracks well.”

“But you didn’t tell me.”

“Why?” Xan sat up in his chair, his tone suddenly angry. “So you could run to your death?” Xan looked away, the dim light casting shadows across his ruined face. “Did you never wonder how I got this?” he asked, tracing the jagged scar with his index finger.

Sally said nothing.

“I had a wife,” said Xan, looking again toward Sally. “And a daughter. They were murdered in front of me.” Xan smiled bitterly. “So I went in search of revenge-by myself.”

Xan leaned forward, moonlight igniting the scar as he spoke.

“I wasn’t trained then, and there were five of them,” he continued. “But I managed to kill three with my bare hands before I was hit from behind and knocked unconscious. When I came to, I realized they had tied me to a large piece of driftwood. There are sharks in the harbor, you know, especially in the winter months. One of the men leaned over me, wanting to make sure I was conscious-I can still see his smile-that’s when I saw the knife.”

Xan touched his face again, remembering. “I was in the water for three days before a junk pulled me onboard in a fishing net.”

Sally leaned forward. “But you survived.”

Xan nodded. “And came here,” he said. “To study.”

“And serve.”

Xan didn’t answer.

“And the two men?”

“One was killed in a gunfight in a bar a few years later,” replied Xan.

“And the other?”

“It took me five years,” said Xan. “But I found him.” He paused, and for a moment Sally thought he was finished, but then he added, “I cut off his arms and legs and threw him in the harbor. After what I’d lived through, I didn’t trust the sharks.”

“But it didn’t bring back your wife?” asked Sally, annoyed at her own impatience. “Or your daughter. Is that the lesson, Master Xan?”

“No,” said Xan softly, shaking his head. “I wanted you to understand that you and I are not so different, little dragon. And that I have already lost one daughter.”

Their eyes met, and Sally nodded her understanding. Xan held her gaze for a long time before turning away. Sally was the first to break the silence.

“If I were to ask shan chu about my parents’ death, could he tell me anything?” she asked, changing the subject back to the reason she was there.

Xan shook his head. “No,” he said tiredly. “He was ignorant of his son’s treachery. And I’m afraid you are too late to visit with the old man of the mountain.”

Sally thought at first Xan meant the hour was too late until she registered the look on his face.

“He’s dead?” she asked, incredulous. She had only been gone one day.

Xan told her of the events since dawn, his voice heavier by the minute.

“Do you think Hui killed his own father?”

Xan shrugged, sounding almost apathetic. “Supposedly only shan chu had the combination to the safe, so why dial the wrong one unless you desired a quick death? But then again, Hui exudes the warmth of a cobra.”

“Will he be made the new Dragon Head?” asked Sally.

“Not necessarily.” Xan frowned. “There will have to be an election.”

“Can he win, given the circumstances?”

“The real circumstances are known only to me,” replied Xan. “And as you said, Hui is formidable-I would not underestimate him.”

“So what are you going to do?”

Xan shifted his weight, the legs of the chair creaking under him, Sally imagining it as the sound of his joints. Looking at her teacher, she felt for the first time the decades between them. Before he could speak, Sally answered her own question.

“What you’ve always done,” she said simply.

A smile flashed across Xan’s face briefly. “There is no other place for me in this world, little dragon. I have become what I am, and there is nothing that can change that. I have walked too far down this path.”

“Can you trust Hui?”

Xan shrugged. “As long as he can trust me.”

Sally nodded, then held his eyes for a long second.

“I’m leaving.”

“I know,” replied Xan, adding, “I’m sorry about Jun.”

Sally blinked but didn’t respond.

“Where will you go?” asked Xan.

Sally shook her head. “You might hear from me,” she said. “But don’t try to follow me.”

“I won’t,” replied Xan. “You have my word.”

“But others might?”

“Not while I’m here,” said Xan.

“What will you tell them?”

“The truth.” Xan smiled. “If they follow you, they will not return.”

Sally nodded once, then stood and bowed, keeping her eyes locked on his.

“Goodbye, Master Xan.”

Xan stood and returned the bow, his face a mixture of warmth and sorrow.

“Goodbye, little dragon.”