He fired yet another arrow, as did the soldier beside him, as four Tao Tei leaped in unison from the chimney towards the gondola. Both arrows found their mark, the creatures twisting in mid-air before falling back into the seething horde of teeth and claws below, but the remaining pair of Tao Tei clamped their jaws around the gondola and wrenched it sideways. As Chen fell backwards, the last thing he saw was the glowing brazier tipping over onto the container of black powder they had been feeding it with.
Then everything disappeared in noise and blinding white light.
The balloon missed the pagoda roof by inches, but the gondola didn’t. As the balloon drifted up and past the multi-tiered tower, the stern of the gondola, swinging behind it, clipped a protruding ledge, which both knocked off a chunk of rubble, and made the vessel spin and shudder.
Feeling as though he was inside a giant barrel being rolled down a hill, William clung on to both his handhold and Lin Mae. Dragging Lin Mae down with him, he crouched low to better center himself, tucking in his head, and so was only peripherally aware of something large and dark tumbling past behind him. Belatedly realizing it was Wang, he looked round to see the little man slam against the inside wall of the gondola as it tipped, then roll back to lie spread-eagled on the floor as it settled again. From the shocked expression on Wang’s face, it was clear he knew all too well how close he had come to falling overboard. If the gondola had tipped just a few more inches, he would have tumbled up and over the side.
As the gondola, though juddering, started to settle, with Peng Yong still hauling heroically on the ropes, William opened his mouth to speak. But at that moment Chen’s balloon, which had been somewhere to their right, on the other side of the pagoda, exploded with a shattering roar.
Once again they threw themselves to the floor as their gondola rocked and spun. A black cloud of smoke and dust and debris rolled over them, making them cough, hampering visibility. That was another balloon gone. Another three soldiers of the Nameless Order who had given their lives to the cause. William wondered how many more of them were left. Wondered whether the future of the entire human race now lay solely in the hands of him and his companions.
Of the many balloons that had launched from the battlements of the Great Wall, only a handful had reached their destination. Following their General’s orders they were landing now in the huge open courtyard to the rear of the Main Hall.
It was a scene of utter chaos. As gondolas careered and scraped across the stone floor, trailing ropes and masses of deflating silk and canvas, hundreds of people, perhaps even as many as a thousand, were pouring out of the Palace like ants from a trampled nest. These were mainly the Palace’s staff—servants, cooks, porters, footmen, laundresses. They were all sizes, all ages, all types, and they were fleeing for their lives, every single one of them terrified out of their wits.
They were heading as one towards the South Gates, in the vain hope that they might somehow escape the marauding monsters at their heels. The Tao Tei were not here yet, but they soon would be; they were not far behind. As the people flooded from the Palace they screamed and pushed and shoved. Many of them tripped over the trailing ropes or the deflating billows of silk, and fell and rolled, often injuring themselves, only to then pick themselves up and limp or stagger on regardless.
In the midst of this melee the Imperial Guard, or at least those that were left, were trying in vain to restore order. In truth, though, they had been completely overwhelmed by the disaster that had befallen them, and were just as scared and disorganized as everybody else.
As yet another gondola crashed down in the courtyard, the balloon it was trailing billowing up and over it like a shroud, the Guards ran instinctively towards it, their swords drawn.
The huge mass of stitched-together silk and canvas and animal skin billowed and furled in the wind. Trapped beneath it, Lin Mae felt as if it was smothering her. For a few seconds she was unable to breathe, overcome with panic.
Then she heard William’s voice, muffled but nearby. “Use your blade! Cut your way through!”
She forced herself to become calm, to reach for that still point in the center of her being. When she had found it, she reached with her fingers, ignoring the silk slithering across her face, and plucked her short blade from the sheath that was strapped to her leg. She slashed upwards, cutting through layers of dark material, feeling them fall away, finally seeing light penetrate the gloom. Cutting the hole wide enough, she clambered out, like a butterfly from a cocoon, and immediately became aware of William beside her, taking her arm and helping her out of the shredded wads of fabric.
When she looked up it was to see an Imperial Officer and several panic-stricken soldiers staring at her. The Officer, in his beautiful gold armour with its royal red and blue trimmings, was pointing a sword at her, his shaking hand causing the blade to quiver like a divining rod.
His voice shrill with alarm, he demanded, “What is this? Who are you?”
William scowled at him. “Back away!”
It was clear the Officer didn’t understand William’s words, but his aggressive manner was easy to interpret. Addressing Lin Mae again, he shouted, “Answer me!”
Lin Mae knew that if the man had had his wits about him, he might have recognized her armour, but he was clearly beyond that. Placing a hand on William’s chest as an indication that he should stand down, she stepped forward and reached into the collar of her armour, producing the gold medallion that General Shao had passed on to her. Silently she showed it to the Officer, who gazed at it as if hypnotized.
Finally, in something like awe, he murmured, “The Nameless Order.”
Instantly the nerve-wracked soldiers behind him dropped to their knees.
“Forgive me, your Excellency, for having eyes that fail to see,” the Officer continued. “I deserve a thousand de—”
“Off your knees, man! We’ve not time for that! Where is the Emperor?”
The outburst came not from Lin Mae, but from Wang, who was now struggling free of the deflated balloon. Behind him, white-faced and blinking and clearly astonished to find himself still alive, was Peng Yong.
As the Imperial Officer merely gaped at him, his mouth opening and closing like a fish, Wang barked, “We need help. All the help that you can muster.” He turned to Peng Yong. “Black powder. We need everything you can salvage in three minutes.” Peng Yong nodded and scurried away on his mission.
Turning back to the still gaping soldiers, Wang clapped his hands together, like a hypnotist awakening his victims. “Well, come on! Get to it!”
Cowering behind his throne, shaking uncontrollably, the Emperor no longer projected the aura of an imperious ruler who held sway over the Seven Kingdoms. Now he had been reduced to what he really was: a small boy in fancy robes who was terrified for his life. As he heard footsteps clacking towards him, he drew himself into an even tighter ball, and when a hesitant voice said, “Your Majesty?” he couldn’t help but flinch.
For the sake of his reputation he knew he needed to respond, however, and so, after taking several deep breaths, he rose nervously from behind his throne. The magnificent Main Hall, a place that usually bustled with life, was now stark and almost empty. Aside from his Chief Counselor, who was the man who had spoken, and whose hands were pressed together in obeisance, there now remained just a smattering of his Imperial retinue—counselors, eunuchs, attendants—and a small group of soldiers.
Of the soldiers, who were standing at the foot of the throne steps, half a dozen were dressed in the gold, lavishly designed armour of his Imperial Guard. The rest were dressed in variously colored armour—seven in black, three in red, including one foreigner, and one in blue—and they looked battered, bruised and exhausted, as if they had just fought a long and arduous battle. Accompanying them was a small man in dark robes. He and a nervous-looking black-armored soldier were presiding over a pile of ropes and strange weapons and military paraphernalia, all of which were gathered together on what appeared to be a large, crumpled square of torn white silk.