As the canvas tarpaulin was pulled from the Tao Tei cage, the courtiers and eunuchs gathered on the steps and around the Emperor’s throne shrank back, uttering high-pitched squeals of terror.
The Emperor, however, not only stood his ground, but moved closer for a better look.
The Tao Tei, the magnet hanging around its neck like a bizarre necklace, was squatting on its haunches, completely dormant. Its great jaws were closed, its eyes were glazed and its breathing was slow and steady, as if it was asleep.
The Emperor walked all the way round the cage, viewing the creature from every angle. His councilors shuffled behind him in a human chain, trilling with excitement. When the Emperor had done a complete circuit he halted and turned to Shen, who was standing there like a proud father.
“How did you capture it?” the Emperor asked.
Shen was about to offer a somewhat creative version of the truth when one of the councilors, a thin, stooped old man with a wispy grey beard, stepped forward.
“The magnet, your Excellency, keeps the beast in check,” he said, snagging the Emperor’s attention. “This is an incredible discovery and will require our extensive study.”
As he prattled on, Shen glared at him, feeling like a child whose candy had been snatched by a bigger boy. But he didn’t dare say anything. The Emperor was listening intently to the old man now, and it wouldn’t do to interrupt. All Shen could hope for was that his time would come again. He glanced at the Tao Tei, which squatted placidly in its cage, completely oblivious to its surroundings.
Strategist Wang and a squadron of nervous Tiger Corps soldiers holding burning lanterns stood in a close-knit group in the center of the flaming circle as Lin Mae and her Crane Corps warriors alighted, graceful as birds, upon the ground around them. As soon as the Crane Corps warriors had uncoiled the ropes from around their legs, Wang led them across to the rock formation at the base of the Wall. Motioning to the Tiger Corps warriors to illuminate the area, he showed Lin Mae what had been discovered earlier that evening—a huge arched tunnel, which burrowed through the rock at the base of the Wall. A Tiger Corps warrior stepped forward, torch held above his head, firelight lapping the tunnel’s ceiling and rocky walls. After several feet, however, the orange glow faded, beyond which could be seen nothing but impenetrable blackness.
Lin Mae looked at Wang, and Wang looked back at her.
“How far does it go?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No one knows.”
“Could they have burrowed right under the Wall? Through solid rock? Is that possible?”
His face was grim. “No one knows that either.”
The fortress was almost empty, most of the soldiers now at battle stations. William ran through the maze of corridors, heading downwards, looking for Pero. Sprinting past a large opening on his left, he glimpsed movement, but he was several paces past the door before he registered it.
Wondering whether it was his friend, he doubled back, peeking around the edge of the opening. He was surprised to see the young Bear Corps warrior who had dropped the metal bowl staring at him in surprise. Over his armour the young warrior was wearing a wet apron covered with food stains. He was clutching a pile of dirty plates to his chest, which he had presumably been just about to drop into the huge sink of steaming water beside him.
Hoping the young man wouldn’t raise the alarm, William gave him a smile and a wave. “You’re much braver than they think,” he said.
Turning and hurrying away he heard a crash behind him as the young man dropped the plates.
Helmeted heads covered tightly by the hoods of their capes, Pero and Ballard crept into the Hall of Knowledge. Ballard had warned Pero that they might have one or two of Wang’s assistants to deal with, but all was silent, dark and deserted. Nevertheless they slunk past the display tables of mechanical devices like ghosts, the breeze from their passing bodies causing a dozen or so silk scrolls that were hanging from the ceiling to shift gently as though stirred from sleep.
Scurrying across to the far wall, Ballard moved aside a black silk hanging on which had been painted a depiction of the constellations in the night sky. Beneath it was a hidden door, made of thick wood and inset with a huge iron lock. Pero tried the door, but it was immovable, set so tightly into its frame it didn’t even rattle. He looked at Ballard, intending to ask him if he had the key, but Ballard was grinning at him knowingly, and suddenly Pero understood.
He nodded and stepped back, watching as Ballard swung the sack he’d been carrying over his shoulder on to the floor. From it he produced a small copper tube and one of the bags of black powder. Deftly he filled the tube with powder, stoppered it at one end and slid it neatly into the lock. Then he produced a strip of waxed paper from his sack, which he twisted into a fuse and fed into the exposed, open end of the copper tube. Finally he produced a flint and a wad of dirty cotton from his sack, and carefully returned the small leather bag of black powder to it. Although his hands were rock steady, his face was sweating inside his heavy armour.
“Get back and take cover,” he said, gesturing towards a nearby workbench.
Pero hurried across to the workbench and crouched behind it. “What now?” he asked.
“Pray,” said Ballard. He struck the flint above the wad of dirty cotton once, then again. On the second occasion it ignited. He held the wad of dirty cotton to the fuse, which lit immediately. Grinning, he scooped up his sack and scurried, like a rat chased by a cat, across to where Pero was crouching. Both men lowered their heads and covered their ears as the burning fuse began to hiss.
Lin Mae stood at the mouth of the tunnel, staring into its depths. On her left were her Crane Corps warriors, and on her right the squadron of Tiger Corps warriors, still brandishing their torches. No one said anything, but as pinpoints of light suddenly appeared in the darkness of the tunnel ahead a few members of the group began to murmur in consternation.
Gradually the pinpoints of light became flickers, which grew brighter, until eventually the dapper figure of Wang appeared, holding aloft a pine oil torch, a squadron of Lin Mae’s Crane Corps warriors, armed with long lances, behind him.
Panting for breath, his face haggard with shock, Wang said, “It goes all the way through… They… they’ve breached the Wall.”
It was the worst news possible. There were gasps and moans. One of the Crane Corps warriors who had stayed with Lin Mae slapped a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob.
Her shock turning to fury, Lin Mae barked, “Summon my commanders immediately!”
Li Qing, trying hard to retain her composure, nodded. “Yes, General.”
17
Still crouched behind the workbench, fingers in their ears, Pero and Ballard waited.
And waited.
Eventually Pero lifted his head slowly and peered over the top of the bench. Seeing nothing he nudged Ballard, who glanced irritably at him. When Pero raised his eyebrows and pulled a ‘What’s happening?’ face, Ballard said laconically, “Why not take a look? See if it’s gone out?”
“Is it safe?” asked Pero.