Sample - Ring Dragonz

Mister Rengerz

Mister Rengerz
All Rights Reserved © 2008 by Helm Publishing
and the Author, Mister Rengerz
No part of this book may be reproduced, or transmitted in any
form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical,
including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any
information storage retrieval system, without the permission in
writing from the publisher or author.
For information address:
Helm Publishing
3923 Seward Ave.
Rockford, IL 61108
815-398-4660
www.publishersdrive.com
ISBN #: 9780980178074
Printed in the United States of America

For Anchella,
my Mai Mai

Table of Contents
PROLOGUE…………………………………….page 1
1. BOT-BOT……………………………………page 5
2. DINNER, DIVORCE, AND DELAY……....page 15
3. HONG KONG…………………………….page 22
4. ALL THAT AND DIM SUM…………...…page 31
5. THE WU WEI TOWERS………………….page 44
6. CHINESE NEW YEAR……………………page 54
7. KIDNAPPED………………………………page 64
8. THE DUNGEON…………………...…….page 70
9. SHANGHAIED……………………………page 77
10. A THIEF IN THE NIGHT………………..page 86
11. KNOCK, KNOCK…………………...……page 95
12. THE HEART OF THE LAIR……...…….page 106
13. ON YOUR MOTHER’S EYES…………...page 114

Table of Contents
14. TALO……………………………………page 120
15. UNDER COVER WORK………………..page 130
16. THE LUCY HAN…………………...…...page 137
17. A WHALE OF A TALE……...………….page 147
18. THE CATACOMBS……………………...page 159
19. LOST AND FOUND……………...……..page 186
20. BEYOND THE RED CURTAINS……....page 205
21. THE GOLD MASTER…………………...page 222
22. COMMOTION FROM THE OCEAN…page 238
23. THE THROAT RING…………...……...page 248
24. A TEA CEREMONY……………...……page 268

Prologue
Under the eye of a full moon sat a sprawling
shipyard along the industrial coastline of Hong
Kong. The harbor held quiet save for the huge
anchored ships groaning and moaning together like
old men grumbling in the night. Shortly, though,
the approaching headlights of a vehicle pierced a
wispy seaside fogbank.
The engine of a Rolls Royce hummed to a stop
and its doors opened. Two men emerged, a
distinguished middle-aged businessman and a tiny
old man in a shabby brown hat and suit. Both were
Chinese, and both wore grim expressions as if
neither had slept in weeks. The short elderly chap
struggled to keep up with the determined strides of
the other, haranguing the taller gentleman with
pleas of desperation.
“Horatio, listen to me. Please. Don’t do this.
I’ll find your daughter. I promise,” implored the frail
old man.
“You can’t promise me anything. I no longer
want your police department’s involvement, Chief
Hsing,” replied Horatio Yu, eyes fixed straight ahead.
“I know what you’re planning tonight, Horatio.
It will only get your daughter killed. Let me
1

Prologue
negotiate with the kidnappers.” Chief Hsing
demanded, frantically pawing at the man’s arm.
“Go home, Chief,” retorted Horatio as he
arrived at a high chain link gate. The tall
businessman walked inside and slammed the gate
shut in the Chief’s face. CLANK! He then angrily
locked a heavy padlock while Chief Hsing clutched
desperately from the outside.
“Let me in, Horatio. Let me help you. Please.”
“Go home, Chief! Go home to your family!” A
peal of lightning from a distant storm split the skies
punctuating Horatio Yu’s words. The man then
turned his back and vanished into the long shadows
of the dockyard, Chief Hsing shaking the gate wildly
behind him.
“Horatio! Come back!”
Horatio stubbornly marched ahead until he
came upon a long steely boathouse, his name
emblazoned in Chinese characters across the facade.
Near the side-entrance sat a Siamese cat, swishing
its charcoal tail atop a garbage can. The feline
licked its paws and leered at the man with menacing
yellow eyes. Unnerved by the animal, Horatio
hurriedly entered his password into a keypad. A
wide mechanical door unlocked and he scooted
inside.
Once indoors, the businessman hastily
resealed the doorway and breathed deeply. The
boathouse interior was dark and thick with shadows.
Horatio made his way down a long electronic
security grid, his footfall leaving a pattern of
glowing red shoeprints everywhere he went.
Up ahead, a gaggle of brawny Chinese men
crouched behind a stack of cargo crates, nervously
waiting with pistols drawn. One of them spied a trail
2

Prologue
of red footprints approaching from the dim recesses
and aimed his revolver uncertainly.
“Mr. Yu, is that you?” the man called out
hesitantly.
“Yes. It’s me. Lower your weapons,” Horatio
answered as he knelt down and joined them.
Horatio’s fingers found a control deck and carefully
raised some soft lighting inside the boathouse. The
lights twinkled and exposed a cargo ship moored
along an indoor docking collar. Beyond the ship
were two towering bay-doors, barely visible in the
prevailing shadows.
In that instant, a mighty CLANG of metal
echoed around the complex, startling the
bodyguards and causing the largest one to faint
effeminately with fear.
“I KNOW YOU’RE THERE! I HAVE YOUR MONEY!
SHOW YOURSELF, SO WE CAN BEGIN!” Horatio
hollered at the unseen racket.
A deafening ROAR answered him, shaking the
very foundations of the boathouse. Next, the riveted
bay-doors burst apart in a raucous explosion of
twisted metal. The channel of water anchoring the
cargo ship began to disappear – sucked dry as if
through some massive invisible straw. Having lost
its watery support, the vessel toppled over and
became mangled on the cargo deck with a mighty
GRUNT! The other guards all screamed with terror.
“Silence, you overpaid idiots!” Horatio rebuffed
them sternly, then turned and bellowed again at the
hidden intruder. “DO YOU HAVE MY DAUGHTER?!
COME OUT, COWARD!”
Suddenly, gigantic red claw-prints slithered up
onto the electronic security grid, shuddering the
boathouse with glowing strides. All the remaining
bodyguards dropped their weapons and fled for
3

Prologue
their lives, but Horatio held resolute. He picked up
one of the guns lying on the floor and charged the
unknown menace, firing blindly.
“WHAT ARE YOU?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO
MY DAUGHTER?!”
Two sinister eyes alit in the darkness and a
great vortex of wind started to swirl, levitating the
businessman in midair. Horatio Yu twisted and
thrashed, crying out haplessly in the churning winds.
At last, showers of golden lightning devoured him,
setting the entire boathouse ablaze.
From behind the high chain link gate
outdoors, Chief Hsing urgently called for help on his
cell phone. But it was too late. All the little old man
could do was watch the boathouse melt into a soupy
furnace of red and purple against the starry skyline
of Hong Kong.
4

Chapter 1
BOT-BOT
Mr. Ming Xa Lee emerged from the double
doors of his Northern California estate just as the
sun broke over the redwood trees of Hampshire
Hills. The handsome middle-aged Chinese man
strolled along in his slippers until he reached a
newspaper lying in the middle of his driveway.
The newspaper was titled, The South China
Morning Post, and though it was in English it was
hardly local. Mr. Lee drowsily picked up the paper
and folded it under his armpit, failing to notice the
photo of a deceased Chinese businessman splashed
across the front page. Then, with a yawn, the man
sauntered back indoors.
As soon as he stepped inside, Mr. Lee was
greeted by the Monday morning commotion of his
family. The usual clamor of Lu Lu, the elderly
housemaid, declaring in her thick Cantonese accent
that breakfast was getting cold, and his fifteen-yearold
daughter, Anne Mai, chasing after his ten-yearold
son, Henry, demanding he not wear the same
school uniform for the fifth straight day.
Mr. Lee groggily sat down on his favorite stool at the
family’s breakfast bar. Here, he received a cup of
5

Chapter 1
tea with a squeeze of lemon from his elegant
Chinese wife, Mrs. Xio Xing Lee. Henry and Anne
Mai settled themselves down next to their parents.
Henry was gangly and short (even by a ten-year-old’s
standards) with a straight bowl of black hair. Anne
Mai was tall with a waterfall of waist-length midnight
hair just like her mother’s.
“Henry,” Mrs. Lee said while watching her son
noisily slurp up egg noodles. “You should listen to
Mai Mai and change into something clean before you
leave for school.”
“But Mama,” Henry protested. “This is my
lucky uniform. I’m going to need it at the
competition today. This is the same uniform I was
wearing when Petey tripped carrying a Fudgey
Strudel Malt Shake, a Three-Tiered Chocolate Bunny
Falafel-Cone, and two Triple-Tart Snow Blizzards. It
was like the ice cream split in midair, missed me and
Walsh, and was destined to take out Gavin McCord,
Hiroshi Yondo, and Sanjit Raj.”
“So today’s the big robotics tournament, huh?”
Mr. Lee asked as he wound some egg noodles
around a pair of chopsticks. “There’re going to be
schools from all over the country competing, aren’t
there?”
“Yeah, so I might be home a little late this
afternoon,” Henry answered, again jamming a wad of
noodles into his tiny mouth.
“If you’d like, Henry, your mother and I could
drop by school this afternoon and see you and Mai
Mai.”
“No, no, no, Papa. You just leave everything
to me and…” before Henry could finish his thought,
a loud car horn honked outdoors. “That’s the
carpool! Come on, Mai Mai!”
6

Bot-Bot
Henry and Anne Mai kissed their mother and
father on the cheek and raced out of the estate in a
blur of schoolbags and red plaid uniforms. Mr. Lee
sighed while Mrs. Lee went over to the window and
watched their two children pile into a black stretch
limousine.
“Dear? What do you have planned for your
morning?” Mrs. Lee called out from the windowsill as
she watched the limo disappear down the forest
road.
“I don’t know.” Mr. Lee answered from the
breakfast bar. “Larry’s got the office covered until
noon. So, I’ll probably just sit here and read the
paper a bit.”
CRASH! Mr. Lee dropped his teacup,
shattering it into a million pieces of porcelain on the
marble floor.
“What is it? What’s wrong, dear?” Mrs. Lee
asked rushing back to her husband’s side.
Mr. Lee held up the bold front-page photo and
headlines detailing the demise of Horatio Yu. Mrs.
Lee cupped a hand over her mouth.
“It’s Horatio. He’s been killed in Hong Kong.
Still think we ought to go back home for a visit,
dear?” Mr. Lee mumbled grimly.
By two o’clock that afternoon, Henry Lee
found himself sitting inside his school’s darkened
auditorium next to his two best friends, Peter J.
Buttums and Walsh W. Walker. Peter was a portly
little balloon of a boy with a fire-red crew cut and
thick oval glasses. Walsh was a blonde child with
blue eyes and perfect dimples to match his tan baby
face.
The three fifth graders huddled together,
surrounded by hundreds of people laughing and
7

Chapter 1
popping pictures. Henry observed a panel of judges
dressed in official white smocks chatting eagerly
behind a bank of microphones near the front of the
auditorium. On the main stage behind them, an
elaborate obstacle course had been built. But
behind the stage was what everyone had come to
see. Inside thick glass cylinders sat nine robots
from schools all around the country.
“This is it,” Peter murmured nervously. “We’re
playing with the big boys now. The pros. Sixth
graders.”
“We’ll be in sixth grade by the time they get
this tournament rolling,” Walsh sniped impatiently as
he tapped his wristwatch.
“Just relax, guys. We didn’t work all summer
just to get here and lose our cool,” Henry reassured.
SQUEAK! Loud feedback from the auditorium
speaker system resonated throughout the building.
“May I have everyone’s attention please,” said
the emcee in a quivery voice, an elderly bald man
drowning in honorary robes. The raucous crowd
quickly dropped to a whisper and fell into their
seats. “I’m Dean Chandelling, Chancellor here at
Montessi Meritage Academy, and I’d like to welcome
everyone to the Tenth Annual Junior National
Robotics Tournament. We are here today to honor
spirited competition and outstanding achievement in
the category of Elementary Robotic Engineering.
Now, without further ado, let us commence!”
The crowd broke into spontaneous applause
and the tournament got underway. Right off, one
team from Rhode Island came up all wet when their
robot tried to submerge under a water hazard only
to resurface in a sparking ball of melted cables.
Meanwhile, another team from Iowa proved
particularly tough when their project successfully
8

Bot-Bot
scaled a wall on the obstacle course with suction
treads.
But Henry, Peter, and Walsh knew the second
to last team would be their greatest challenge: Team
Omega. Led by Gavin McCord, Hiroshi Yondo, and
Sanjit Raj (the younger brothers of the boys who had
begun the robotics program at school), Team Omega
had become so prominent nationally that NASA
sponsored them with money and access to their
aeronautics labs.
All came to attention as Gavin McCord strode
proudly onto the stage. Big Blue was the name of
Team Omega’s prototype, a revamped version of
their winning submission from the previous year.
Gavin immediately received several perfect scores as
Big Blue whizzed around on fat rubber tires, and at
one point even took flight using a secret hidden
propeller. In fact, Big Blue only faltered once when
the robot sprung a hubcap rounding a speed bump.
“All perfect scores except for a ninety-eight
percent in durability,” Peter muttered. “That doesn’t
leave much room at the top.”
Henry and Walsh ground their teeth as
technicians reset the course.
“Would our final contestants, Team Nine,
please report to the judging table – Team Nine,
please,” Chancellor Chandelling’s monotone voice
moaned throughout the auditorium.
Peter rose from his chair apprehensively,
pounded fists with Henry and Walsh, and began the
long journey to the main stage. About halfway down
the darkened aisle, Gavin, Hiroshi, and Sanjit
intercepted Peter. The taller boys were already
toasting their victory with House Sparklers from the
Montessi Meritage Café (House Sparklers being
9

Chapter 1
glasses of bubbling red soda with dry-ice pinwheels
that spun and smoked).
“Hey, if you really want to impress the judges
today,” Gavin hissed at Peter in the dim light, “why
not have your robot change your diapers.” Gavin
then dumped his House Sparkler down the front of
Peter’s academy jacket.
Peter shrieked, frantically wiping gooey red
liquid and smoking dry ice from his chest.
“You all right, Petey?” Henry asked as he and
Walsh came racing up from behind.
“I’m hit. But luckily the school color’s red
anyway,” Peter sighed, trying futilely to dry his jacket
and pants.
“What’s your problem, McCord?!” Walsh
popped off angrily at Gavin.
“What can I say, dude. It was an accident,”
Gavin responded innocently.
“Yeah, this stuff happens when fat kids see
food,” Hiroshi snickered.
Several teachers quickly intervened and
dispatched everyone but Peter back to their seats.
Now moistened and damp, Peter continued on to the
main stage and offered the judges a few sticky
handshakes. Once atop the brightly lit stage, the
chubby boy withdrew a metallic backpack from the
last glass cylinder.
“Uh, thank you, esteemed judges,” Peter
whimpered into the wireless microphone affixed to
his cola-stained collar. “Our prototype is proud to
present our team… um… I mean our team is proud
to present our prototype, a Mobile Espionage Unit.
We call him Bot-Bot.”
Peter took out a small black remote and
pushed a green button. The backpack started to
hum powerfully and the back hatch split open. On
10

Bot-Bot
command, a little metal robot about the size of a
gallon milk jug hopped eagerly to the ground. The
machine looked something like a mechanized flea
with oversized claws. SPOING – went its springloaded
legs inside a rounded metallic body. SPOING,
SPOING, SPOING! The crowd applauded Peter as he
put Bot-Bot through some simple paces: front flips,
back flips, and motion in all directions.
Henry shook Walsh in his seat with an air of
optimism. “And they haven’t seen anything yet,” he
squeaked.
During the obstacle course, the audience
roared as Bot-Bot hopped through all the required
elements, whether water, terrain, or blockades. By
the end, the cheering grew so loud Chancellor
Chandelling had to remind people that the judges
were still tallying. Team Nine had unexpectedly
become a crowd favorite. All hushed as Peter set up
for the final maneuver, his confidence now soaring
to the houselights. The last element was freeform,
which meant the team could use their project’s
special feature.
“For our prototype’s special function, I’m
going to need a member of the esteemed judging
panel to assist me,” Peter pandered with
showmanship.
One tall distinguished judge stood and
volunteered, smoothing his hands over his official
white smock.
“Sir, do you have anything in your hands?”
Peter inquired.
The man nodded and held up a fountain pen
into the spotlight.
“Would you please put that in your pocket and
empty your hands,” Peter continued.
11

Chapter 1
The judge did so as Henry nodded
comprehensively from his seat. “Good. Good,”
Henry said, biting his lip anxiously.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the robot and I will
now retire behind the stage and rejoin you again
shortly.” Like a grand magician unveiling his
greatest trick, Peter disappeared behind the long
black curtain without any further explanation.
Several seconds passed, and then a full
minute. Coughs and snickers began to melt the
anticipation. Henry knew this was the make or
break moment. A whole summer’s preparation
either paid off here or it all went for naught. The
judge, still highlighted in the dark by a spotlight,
now began shrugging with impatience. Just then,
the man felt something tap the back of his knees,
and before he knew it, Bot-Bot climbed right up his
back. The robot perched atop his shoulder and
whizzed and purred like a metal parrot.
Howls and shouts of “Number Nine is number
one” echoed and drummed throughout the
auditorium.
With yet another SPOING, Bot-Bot sprang ten
feet into the air and landed back atop the stage.
Peter emerged triumphantly from behind the curtain
and bowed to even greater gusto. Henry and Walsh
looked around in awe at this reception.
“Thank you so much,” Peter paused
appreciatively until it grew quiet enough for him to
speak. “Our robot’s body is constructed from scrap
iron we recycled from the retrofitting of Hampshire
Hill’s old downtown courthouse, and if you’ll look in
here,” the boy held up the interior of the backpack
for everyone to see, “a digital monitor and keyboard
built inside this backpack allows me to control our
12

Bot-Bot
prototype even at great distances. All this adds up
to an earth-friendly, Mobile Espionage Unit.”
Several guests wearing blue NASA blazers
began nodding approvingly.
“Ah, but young man,” interrupted the tall
judge who had participated, deadening the
enthusiasm. “Your little show was unarguably
impressive and no doubt expensive – only it was
fruitless. Espionage is about secrecy, whereas all
your prototype did was announce itself on my
shoulder.”
The audience turned to see if Peter had a
ready reply.
“An excellent point, your Honor. Only I wasn’t
finished yet.” The ten-year-old smiled knowingly.
Using the remote, Peter ordered Bot-Bot to release
his right claw. There for all to see was the man’s
fountain pen.
The scene went white with camera flashes.
Peter was instantly swamped by a hoard of
congratulatory handshakes and pats on the back
while Henry and Walsh celebrated in their seats. The
dull drone of Team Nine’s scores was inaudible over
the loudspeakers due to the deafening cheers.
Ultimately, the boys read a string of perfect scores
as they flashed across an overhead scoreboard.
Henry could see Walsh mouthing the words,
“we did it, we did it,” over and over again.
“Please! Please! Please!” Chancellor
Chandelling silenced the crowd. “The champion of
this year’s National Junior Robotics Tournament is –
Team Nine!”
The crowd thundered again as Chancellor
Chandelling called Henry and Walsh forward to join
Peter atop the main stage and awarded them a tall
silver trophy. The three victors embraced, savoring
13

Chapter 1
the sallow look of defeat on the faces of Team
Omega.
“Please! Please! Please!” the Chancellor again
begged the crowd. “Now, as you all know, every
year the winner here at the Junior National Level
goes on to represent our proud country in the
International Junior Robotics Expo. Which means
that early next year these three youngsters will be
competing in the host city of Hong Kong!”
14

Chapter 2
DINNER, DIVORCE, AND DELAY
Long shadows crept across the lavish
fountains of the Walker estate. At dusk the mansion
lights twinkled as the Lee family hiked up their
neighbor’s driveway. A full week had passed since
the boys’ triumph over Team Omega, and tonight
their families were coming together to decide who
would chaperone them to Hong Kong. Henry
naturally assumed it would be his parents, but both
had been strangely tight-lipped the moment they
had learned of the trip.
Mr. Lee buttoned his blazer while Mrs. Lee
smoothed her fingers over Anne Mai’s long straight
bangs. Henry saw this and quickly rang the Walkers’
doorbell before his mother’s primping fingers could
reach him.
Walsh’s mother, Lolana Walker, answered the
door. “Welcome to our home,” she said. The
statuesque lady leaned against a ten-foot entryway,
her white gown raining sequins to the floor.
“Good evening. Thank you for inviting us,”
Mrs. Lee offered politely as she and her family
shuffled indoors.
15

Chapter 2
“Don’t mention it. Our pleasure.” Lolana
closed the front door and brushed back her wavy
golden locks. Then, with a wink, the woman led the
Lee family down a long hallway (her hips swishing
back and forth like a stallion’s tail).
Shortly, they arrived at a domed study lined
with movie memorabilia and autographed celebrity
photos. Inside sat Peter’s mother, father, and little
sister (each one just as plump as the next). Mrs.
Buttums scraped the caviar off a cracker for her
daughter, Passy, while her husband, General
Buttums, deposited the fish-eggs into a nearby
ashtray. In the back of the study stood Walsh’s
father, Wilt Walker, a handsome muscular man in his
mid-thirties.
“You know, Lester,” Wilt Walker exclaimed,
directing General Buttums’ attention to a silver
helmet mounted on the wall. “Being a retired
military man, I think you might appreciate this item.
Uh, what was it you used to do before the heart
attack?”
“Secretary of Defense for the United States,”
General Buttums affirmed with a hint of annoyance
in his deep commanding voice.
“Right. Well, this is the actual helmet worn by
George C. Scott in the film, Patton.” Walsh’s father
guaranteed.
“I’m sure that’s a fine likeness of the original,”
General Buttums replied chewing on a mouthful of
cheese.
“This is the original – signed by the actor
himself,” assured Mr. Walker.
“I meant to the original George S. Patton,”
Peter’s father corrected, rolling his eyes.
16

Dinner, Divorce, and Delay
“Sure. I knew that.” Walsh’s father cleared his
throat. “I love war pictures. You know, Lolana and I
met while making a war picture.”
“Dear,” Lolana Walker interjected. “Our other
guests have arrived.”
“Lee! How the heck are you?” General
Buttums sprang up upon catching sight of Henry’s
father (thankful to be free of Mr. Walker for a
minute).
“Good to see you again, General.” Mr. Lee
greeted the peachy bald chap.
“Henry!” Walsh’s high-pitched voice shrieked
as he skipped into the room. “Come on, Petey and I
are in my room getting Bot-Bot ready for a
demonstration.”
“You boys can do that later. Now that we’re
all here, I say we get this band marching,” General
Buttums ordered.
Within the hour, the three families were all
dining together at a huge circular table, which Wilt
Walker boasted was the actual table from the movie,
King Arthur. Caterers had been hired to serve a
sublime five-course dinner. Walsh, Peter, and Henry
particularly enjoyed the squishy texture of the
escargot, loving them all the more when squeezing
them made little Passy turn green.
“Mom!” Passy complained loudly.
“Pickle, why don’t you, Henry, and Walsh go
upstairs and get your robot,” Mrs. Buttums urged
Peter. As soon as the three had scuttled out of the
room, Mrs. Buttums quickly turned to address Mr.
and Mrs. Lee. “I hope you don’t mind, but we were
all talking before you arrived. We can’t think of
anyone better suited to tour the children around
17

Chapter 2
Hong Kong other than y’all, seeing as it is your
former homeland.”
“It’s true, Lee,” General Buttums agreed. “If
my boy gets arrested by communists I’d feel a lot
better knowing he was with someone who speaks
the language.”
“Uh, I appreciate your confidence,” Mr. Lee
responded, shifting awkwardly in his chair. “But I
must decline. My wife and I cannot attend.”
A grumble of disappointment swept around
the table.
“Come on Lee, who better than you? I sure as
heck can’t do it,” Peter’s father appealed. “The
President wants me in a seventy-two hour security
council meeting the same week as the tournament.”
“I’m sorry,” Mr. Lee asserted again.
“I’ll do it,” Walsh’s father offered with a sly
smile.
“No.” Lolana glared at her husband. “What
about you, Mrs. Buttums?”
“Oh, I’m afraid Mother Buttums has been
indulging the sweets too much again,” Mrs. Buttums
confessed of herself. “I’m scheduled for a
cardiogram during that week.”
“Seriously, I’ll do it,” Wilt Walker insisted
again. “It’ll be awesome! The boys and I will really
get a chance to bond.”
“Sweetheart, I’m really sure you can’t do it,”
Lolana Walker’s tone was lowering with each word
she spoke. “You’re shooting promos that week.
Remember?”
“Promos. Ha-ha! I’ll get our agent to
reschedule,” the man chuckled and the room began
to tingle.
“FINE!” his wife said, banging her dessert fork
down. “I’d love to join you then.”
18

Dinner, Divorce, and Delay
“No, no. This is guy time, Honey.”
“GUY TIME!” Walsh’s mother stood up
clenching a doily in her fist. “I’M NOT GOING TO LET
YOU TAKE OUR SON ON ANOTHER TRIP WITH ONE
OF YOUR FLOOZIES!” Lolana suddenly lost control
and fired a champagne glass passed her husband.
The glass whizzed into the next room and shattered
against the prop helmet from Patton.
Walsh’s blonde head then poked out. “Mom?
Dad? Is everyone ready for Bot-Bot’s
demonstration?”
An uncomfortable groan gurgled around the
room.
The next few weeks brought the winds of
change to Hampshire Hills, cold blustery winds that
blew out the last of September. Walsh had not been
seen since the ill-fated dinner, causing Henry great
worry. Wilt Walker had moved out of the estate and
Lolana no longer attended the Montessi Meritage
PTA meetings. Henry knew missing so much school
was not only a bad omen for Walsh, but also for the
trip to Hong Kong.
Then one rainy afternoon the dreaded word
came. Mr. Lee answered the phone as Henry sat
watching the Walker’s front lawn across the street.
The man set down the receiver with a doubtful look
in his eyes.
“Henry, that was Mrs. Walker. Walsh can’t go.
I’m afraid the trip to Hong Kong will have to be
cancelled.” The father patted his son’s shoulder
reassuringly, but the boy looked as inconsolable as
the marigolds drowning outside in the storm.
More weeks of dreary weather went by. One
Saturday, as Mr. Lee went past Henry’s bedroom, he
19

Chapter 2
thought he heard the sound of muffled murmuring.
He quietly peeked his head inside and saw Henry
knotted around a set of bed sheets. The man went
in and sat down quietly next to a limp ball of limbs.
“Henry? It’s your Papa,” Mr. Lee whispered.
After a minute of silence, he picked through the
covers to find his boy’s face. “Son, won’t you tell me
what’s bothering you?”
“Will you and Mama ever break up like Walsh’s
parents?” Henry asked, peeking out of the covers.
“And if you do, will Mai Mai still take care of me?”
Mr. Lee cradled his son’s head and rocked him
for a few lasting moments. “Henry, your family will
always be together. We won’t lose anyone. I
promise. Not your mother, not me, not you or Mai
Mai.”
In spite of his father’s faith, Henry still looked
heartbroken. “Papa,” the youngster sighed. “The
whole reason I entered the tournament was to win
that trip to Hong Kong – so I could surprise you and
Mama. Why won’t you and Mama go with us?”
Mr. Lee looked down at the bundle of boy in
his arms. He reflected deeply on what his father had
taught him while growing up in Hong Kong. Never
live in the shadow of fear, but in the sunlight of
courage. Henry’s father then stroked his proud chin
and arrived at a decision.
“Henry, I want you to call the Buttums’ estate
and see if they’d still be willing to send Peter. Your
mother and I will go.”
Sparkles of amazement lit up in Henry’s eyes.
He ran into the den and flipped open his cell phone.
Within five minutes, Peter was leaping for joy at the
Buttums’ stately manor, his parents gladly agreeing
to let him go. Anticipation began to throb in
Henry’s heart as he ran and told his father.
20

Dinner, Divorce, and Delay
“Good. One down, one to go.” Mr. Lee
grinned.
Ten minutes later, Henry and his father were
hiking across the Walkers’ acreage. The estate
looked noticeably different since the Lees last
visited. Crabgrass overran all the lawns and large
squawking crows were living in every fountain.
When Mr. Lee rang the doorbell he also noticed the
front steps were dirty and unswept. After several
minutes, Lolana Walker answered in a frumpy
sweatshirt, looking nearly fifteen pounds heavier
and rubbing her eyes.
“Oh, hello,” she said, making no effort to let
either Mr. Lee or Henry inside.
“Mrs. Walker,” Mr. Lee smiled, “I’m here to ask
if Walsh can go with us to the competition in Hong
Kong.”
“I see,” the woman answered, slipping a few
Bon-Bons into her mouth as she stared off into the
woods. “Well, as you know, this has been a really
hard time for us.”
“Yes, I understand,” Henry’s father assured.
“But I think this will raise your son’s spirits. At least
he’ll be focusing on something else for a while.”
Lolana looked down at Henry and agreed.
“Yeah. Maybe you’re right. Anyway, that’s Walsh’s
week to go stay with his father,” she scoffed
vengefully and stuffed a few more Bon-Bons into her
mouth.
Though Henry was not allowed to see Walsh
that afternoon, the boy just knew his friend’s heart
would soon be soaring like a jet.
21

Chapter 3
HONG KONG
At long last the departure day came. Peter
arrived at the Lees’ estate in his father’s Hummer
hauling a train of camouflage suitcases and a
bandolier of cheesy fish crackers. Walsh and his
mother showed up shortly thereafter, fashionably
late as always. The three families ate a light
breakfast, checked itineraries, and began their
goodbyes.
Within minutes everyone stood hugging and
wishing one another a safe trip. The General
scrubbed his son’s crew cut and told him not to
mind any “red propaganda.” Walsh’s mother
lavished her son’s cheeks in lime-green lipstick, and
Lu Lu tearfully waved a hanky. A hired chauffeur
then stowed all the luggage into the back of a long
white limousine, and with a tip of his cap, seated
Anne Mai, Peter, Walsh, Henry, and Mr. and Mrs. Lee.
The limo made a loop around the driveway
and started off down the road, its red taillights
disappearing into the green forest.
An hour or so later, the limousine turned onto
a private airfield near San Francisco and was
22

Hong Kong
immediately greeted by armed security officers.
From here, the passengers were escorted to a huge
metal hangar where a sleek white jet with a blue
stripe awaited. A Chinese crew of two pilots and two
stewardesses shook hands with Mr. Lee as he
approached.
“Whoa, Henry, you never told me you guys had
a jet,” Peter marveled as he read the lettering across
the fuselage – Lee Industries Intl.
“Petey, I’ve never even been on it before,”
Henry assured.
Within minutes everybody was aboard the
aircraft, buckled in safely, and listening to the soft
purr of two powerful engines. The captain began
speaking over the intercom as the plane rolled out
of the hangar and into the daylight.
“Is he talking Chinese?” Peter giggled.
“Cantonese, we call it,” Mr. Lee corrected the
boy. “Canton is a region in China. Most
mainlanders speak Mandarin, but in Hong Kong we
speak Cantonese.”
“I better learn on the flight over then,” Peter
said with an apologetic face.
“It’s all right, young man.” Henry’s father
smiled. “You’ll find many islanders speak a spot of
English, too.”
Suddenly, everyone was pinned against their
chairs as the jet thrust across the runway. The boys
felt their stomachs hanging as they soared into the
sky and banked west over the Pacific.
At about forty-five thousand feet the captain
signaled a green light, meaning the passengers
could get up, but by that time the three boys were
already dozing on each other’s shoulders. Mr. Lee
quietly awoke Henry and directed him to join his
23

Chapter 3
mother and Anne Mai near the rear window seats to
play a family game of Mah Jong.
“The boys must have been packing late into
the night, too, Henry.” Mr. Lee winked at his groggy
son. “I’ll let you get back to sleep soon, but your
mother and I think we ought to have a bit of a family
chat.”
Mrs. Lee nodded as the Lee family all sat down
together around a set of jade game tiles. “First, let
me say I think this trip comes at a perfect time of
the year,” she said drawing some of the tiles. “I
can’t wait for you children to experience an
authentic Chinese New Year.”
Henry perked up happily. “Are you and Papa
excited? Me and Mai Mai can’t wait to finally see
Hong Kong.”
Mrs. Lee set her tiles back down and eyeballed
her husband apprehensively.
“Henry, there’s a reason why your mother and
I have never taken you and Mai Mai to Hong Kong,”
Mr. Lee admitted with a labored breath. He then
faltered into silence.
“I think it’s time we told you both some things
we’ve never mentioned before,” Mrs. Lee spoke
softly, holding Mr. Lee’s hand. “It’s important for
you to understand that our homeland is not the
same as it was when your father and I were young.
That’s why we declined to chaperone you and your
friends at first, Henry.”
“That’s right,” Mr. Lee continued. “When your
mother and I left, the island still belonged to
England. But then it was given back to the Chinese
government. My family, well, that is to say, your
family is still very well known back home.”
“In Hong Kong your father was called a
Taipan,” their mother again took a turn to explain,
24

Hong Kong
“which to the Chinese means you are the head of a
very powerful family.”
“You mean you’re a celebrity, Papa? Like
Walsh’s mom and dad?” Henry anxiously inquired.
Mr. Lee squirmed uncomfortably with this
comparison. “Uh, it means our whole family name is
a celebrity,” he explained. “But our family weren’t
entertainers, Henry. The Lees controlled the seas in
Hong Kong. Shipping.”
“Mama? Papa? Is it safe for you to go home?”
Anne Mai wondered aloud. This question seemed to
burrow straight into her parents like an arrow.
“I’m sure it’s quite safe, Mai Mai,” her mother
clarified. “But this is where things start to become
hard to explain.” She looked to her husband, his
fingers buried in her hand.
“When my father died,” Mr. Lee began again,
“he named me the Taipan of my family. During
those years business in Hong Kong was doing very
well. Not just for the Lees, mind you, but also for
the other four Taipans and their families. But there
was a worry. We knew the day was coming when
China would again take charge of our island.”
“Communism in mainland China was very
different from the life we had grown up knowing
under British control,” Mrs. Lee felt compelled to
explain.
“Exactly.” Mr. Lee nodded. “There was a
growing concern that businesses would be seized by
the new regime, so a meeting of the five Taipans
was called. At this meeting in Kowloon, the other
four families and I decided to move our businesses
overseas and leave Hong Kong.” This last detail
seemed to sting Mr. Lee’s lips.
25

Chapter 3
His wife squeezed his fingers encouragingly.
“This decision made many people very angry,” she
confessed sadly.
Henry and Anne Mai were unsure whether or
not to worry. The reason their parents gave for
moving made sense. But if it was all strictly about
business, why tell them? Mr. Lee had rarely, if ever,
discussed work in the past.
“Are people still mad at you, Papa?” Henry
asked worriedly. “Nothing bad is going to happen in
Hong Kong, right?”
“No. Of course not, son.” Mr. Lee tried to
laugh confidently. “That was all such a long time
ago. Your mother and I only tell you this just in
case, well, just in case. Now, I want you both to get
some sleep before we land. And don’t worry. I’m
sure this vacation is going to be grand.”
After the game, Mr. and Mrs. Lee kissed their
children good night and closed their eyes. Henry,
too, rolled over and went to sleep. Anne Mai,
however, sat in puzzled contemplation. The teen
could not help feeling there was something missing
from her parent’s story. A detail her mother and
father were omitting about their past.
Some fourteen hours later, the jet was still
chasing the sun, refusing to let it set before they
landed. Anne Mai awoke and saw her father gazing
out a window at the ocean. Mr. Lee didn’t notice his
daughter until she snuck over and plopped into his
lap.
“Mai Mai,” he smiled at her. “We’re almost
there now. I haven’t seen the South China Sea in so
many years.”
26

Hong Kong
Anne Mai peered into the beyond with him.
The sunlight spread a royal orange carpet across the
waters as though welcoming them to the east.
“Look! We’re here!” Mr. Lee pointed eagerly.
Anne Mai turned and saw the stunning
metropolis of Hong Kong on the horizon. It looked
like castles of light growing out of the water. Ocean
waves foamed along the island’s edge, teeming with
sampans (which are small island boats).
The Lees’ jet sank into the cityscape and
landed smoothly at a private hangar in Hong Kong’s
international airport. Everyone awoke yawning and
stretching. A few minutes later, the pilots released a
stairway from the aircraft’s belly.
Once on the tarmac, the tourists met with
customs officials and began picking up their
luggage. However, when the customs officials saw
Mr. Lee they ran up and bowed three times each.
Mr. Lee quickly dismissed them in Cantonese.
“Papa, do these men know you?” Anne Mai
wanted to know.
“No. They must have me confused with
somebody else,” Mr. Lee answered curtly.
“But, Papa…”
“Mai Mai! Look over there!” Mr. Lee quickly
redirected his daughter’s attention to a sharp oblong
skyscraper. “That building is I.M. Pei’s Bank of
China. Isn’t it magnificent?”
“What? Oh. That’s beautiful, Papa,” Anne Mai
agreed.
“Henry, come over here and see this.” Mr. Lee
tried to corral his son.
But Henry was off to one side with Walsh and
Peter. Together, the three boys stood ogling
something else along the city skyline.
27

Chapter 3
“Papa? What’s that building?” Henry asked,
pointing curiously.
Mr. Lee came alongside his son and beheld
the jagged horns of some giant, glassy beast
looming in the distance. Within seconds it was clear
that the horns were actually the triple towers of one
enormous superstructure, taller than anything else
on the island.
“I don’t know, Henry.” Mr. Lee admitted with a
awestruck expression. “I’ve never seen that building
before. Come on. Let’s get moving.”
In due course, the Lee family, Walsh and Peter
found themselves motoring along inside a tightly
packed taxicab. As per Mr. Lee’s request, the cab
driver was taking them to 1 Queen’s Hill Road. Anne
Mai could only speculate as to the destination, but
noticed her mother appeared uneasy about this
address.
The cab driver turned up a road that led inside
a ring of tropical hedges. At the top lurked an
ancient Chinese palace, its grounds strewn with
fearsome looking icons and pointy rooftops. Once
everyone had piled out of the taxi with their
luggage, Mr. Lee asked the cabbie to help him open
the estate’s front gate. But the man appeared
terrified of the old place, and without warning,
jumped back into the taxi and peeled away.
“That’s very odd,” a perplexed Mr. Lee
commented. “He didn’t even wait for his fare.”
Mr. Lee strained to prop the big wooden gate
as his party lugged inside with their suitcases. A
faint light illuminated a dark winding path of
snapdragon stalks. The light grew brighter and
brighter until the path ended in a wide portico. Mr.
28

Hong Kong
Lee rattled loudly on an iron knocker in the middle
of a broad door.
The children heard the thudding of heavy
footsteps approaching from within. A mad clatter of
unlocking hinges followed next. Finally, the door
whooshed open to reveal a gigantic Chinese man
who filled the doorway like a gorilla in a cage. Peter
and Walsh gasped and took two steps backwards,
but Mr. Lee did not appear the least bit intimidated.
“Hello there, Talo,” he boldly addressed the
huge man. “Is my brother at home this evening?”
The mountain of muscles held in the
doorframe, refusing to budge. But eventually the
doorkeeper lumbered aside and permitted the party
to pass under his stern gaze. When all were inside,
Talo relocked the door’s numerous deadbolts and
plodded away.
Anne Mai swiftly surveyed the palace. Corner
to corner, everything looked hand-carved, from
devilish pottery to beastly statuettes. Each piece
appeared quite lifelike, seeming to dance in a
flickering orange glow that haunted every crevice.
“Mama? Is this where Papa grew up?” Anne
Mai whispered in her mother’s ear.
“Yes, Mai Mai,” Mrs. Lee replied. “Generations
of Lees have grown up in this ancestral palace. But
your uncle lives here now.”
Talo returned a minute later escorting a
beautiful Chinese woman wearing a long silken robe.
Her face was painted white and her hair was tied up
in a bun with chopsticks. She bent herself in a
traditional bow, her visage unchanging as a portrait.
Mr. Lee bowed in return. “Hello. We haven’t
met,” he greeted. “I’m Ming Xa, brother to Shang
Sin.” When he got no response, the man tried his
29

Chapter 3
salutations in Cantonese, but this was also met with
silence.
A pristine smile then formed across the
woman’s lips and she gestured for the guests to sit
upon a curvy sofa. When they obliged, the lady
glided away like a spirit and returned a moment later
with a tea set.
“Your brother must not be at home.” Mrs. Lee
nudged her husband with amusement. “This is
clearly the tea service.”
All at once, a hard tapping echoed up the
hallway. Out of the shadows came a man walking
with a dragon-handled cane, his face an exact replica
of Mr. Lee.
“Henry. Anne Mai. This is your Uncle Shang
Sin. He’s my younger twin brother,” Mr. Lee
introduced the man. “He’s always been the
handsome one.”
Humor failed to puncture the silence. Mr.
Lee’s brother did not say a word nor did he smile.
Walsh and Peter were beginning to wonder if anyone
here ever spoke, both feeling this reunion seemed to
be going strangely.
“Daihdai,” Mr. Lee offered warmly (meaning
younger brother in Cantonese).
“Mm,” Uncle Shang Sin grumbled at last. “It’s
been a long time Ming Xa. I see you’ve already met
my wife.”
The lady holding the teakettle bowed
demurely once again.
30

Chapter 4
ALL THAT AND DIM SUM
The next morning Anne Mai awoke with a stiff
back in a strange bed. She rubbed her temples to
recall where she lay. Then it all came rushing back
to her. Hong Kong. This was her uncle’s palace.
After some quick sprucing, Anne Mai walked down
the long corridor that led to the front of the estate.
Even in the daytime the house still clung to an
orange glow, refusing to be cheered by the sunlight
outdoors.
As she rounded the last corner, Anne Mai
discovered her family, Walsh, and Peter already
seated around a traditional Chinese breakfast table.
At the head of the table sat Uncle Shang Sin and his
wife, while Talo stood guard nearby. Anne Mai
quickly found a seat next to her mother, who raised
a disapproving eyebrow at being late.
Once Anne Mai settled in, the breakfast
banquet began. A handful of menservants lifted the
lids off of some steaming dishes of congee and
sticky buns. While the meal was hot, the mood was
icy cold. No one dared make a sound. The children
tried to muffle their chewing while the adults only
glanced up to read each other’s thoughts.
31

Chapter 4
Only Peter was able to eat normally, though
he, too, became self-conscious when he fumbled his
chopsticks and dropped egg on Talo’s shoes. The
huge suit started to growl as he wiped food off his
spats.
Mr. Lee smartly intervened. “Did you know,
Peter, Talo was found as a baby on the palace
doorsteps,” he said. “He’s been protecting the
family ever since he was Anne Mai’s age.”
Peter grinned sheepishly at the bodyguard,
mashed egg stuck to his braces.
Uncle Shang Sin turned his eyes to Anne Mai.
“You,” he said gruffly. “You I know are my niece,
every bit as beautiful as your mother when she was
young.”
Anne Mai did not know whether to be flattered
or scared. She nodded modestly. “Thank you, asuk,”
(meaning younger brother of your father).
Uncle Shang Sin now turned to Henry. “And
you suit the mold of a Lee, maybe only a little
undersized.”
Henry dropped his head with embarrassment.
“Thank you, a-suk,” he murmured.
“But you two,” the man said peering at Walsh
and Peter. “You’re not Chinese are you?”
“Uh, they’re my son’s schoolmates, Peter and
Walsh,” Henry’s father swiftly explained. “We’re all
here because the boys are in a science fair. I was
hoping to enjoy your hospitality for about a week.”
His brother listened with half an ear as he
strung up noodles on his chopsticks. “Science fair?
You sure do pick a rare time to come back gohgo,”
(meaning older brother). Uncle Shang Sin frowned.
“If I’d at least known you were coming I would have
made arrangements. But as it is I couldn’t be
busier.”
32

All that and Dim Sum
“If it’s any imposition my family and I will stay
at a hotel,” Mr. Lee guaranteed boldly. “We passed a
brand new strip of hotels last night in the taxi. The
Emperor Hotel looked quite nice.”
His twin brother laughed out loud. “There’d
be no difference between you staying there or here,”
he argued, “it’d still be on my hospitality because I
own that hotel.”
Henry saw his father’s eyes fill with confusion.
“Own it?” Mr. Lee marveled.
“That’s right,” Uncle Shang Sin snapped hotly.
“Was I supposed to earn my living fishing off the end
of a pier once all you Taipans fled?”
“That’s not what I meant,” Mr. Lee fired back.
Anne Mai became worried. The two brothers
were fixed in each other’s eyes and gripping their
chopsticks like daggers. Then her uncle slumped
back and smiled for the first time since they’d met
him.
“That was foolish of me,” he said slowly. “I
had no cause to get angry again. That was all many
years ago.” Uncle Shang Sin loosened his collar with
his fingers. “Of course, I want you and your family
to stay here. Forgive me.” He extended a hand over
the table.
“Nothing to forgive, daihdai,” Mr. Lee offered
back, accepting the man’s hand in truce.
The table exhaled a sigh of relief and the
breakfast began again. This time there was chatter
and laughter to spare as the two families delighted
each other with many stories and memories. Anne
Mai sensed a great yoke had been lifted off her
father and uncle; one they both had been carrying
for quite a while. Even with the hostilities abated,
she still felt a thick rivalry lingering.
33

Chapter 4
“Say, Ming Xa,” Uncle Shang Sin began anew.
“You think the Emperor is impressive? That hotel is
nothing compared to my newest project. It will be
my life’s crowning achievement. The Wu Wei
Towers.”
Mr. Lee dropped his chopsticks into his bowl.
“Not those three towers?” he gasped.
“Hard to miss, eh? Eighty-eight stories
apiece,” Uncle Shang Sin said, filing his fingertips on
his thumb. “I’d like you to come down to my office
when you get a chance. I’ll give you the personal
tour.”
“I’ll do that,” Mr. Lee promised soberly.
“Well, I have to go get ready for work.” Uncle
Shang Sin rose, glancing at his wristwatch. “So what
do you have planned for today?”
“I thought I’d show the children around the
city a bit,” Mr. Lee replied as he stood, too.
“Excellent. Please don’t wait up for me
tonight. I have a lot to do,” his brother replied, and
the twins shook a robust handshake.
Within the hour, Mr. Lee had hired a shiny
Rolls Royce with a matching Chinese chauffeur. Like
the taxi driver the night before, the man would not
meet them at the gates of the palace, only at the
bottom of the hill. So the tourists began excitedly
hiking down 1 Queen’s Hill Road.
The city opened before their eyes, revealing a
bustling concourse of bicycles and bodies, signs and
banners, and a glorious ocean that sparkled in
glassy waves. Their driver for the afternoon bowed,
seated Mr. and Mrs. Lee inside the vehicle, and next,
the children. In no time, the freshly polished Rolls
Royce pulled away from the curb and sped headlong
into the day.
34

All that and Dim Sum
The tourists first arrived at the pinnacle of
Victoria Peak. Anne Mai and Henry were spellbound
by the panorama of emerald cliffs, sapphire waters,
and rainbow sky-risers that spread beneath their
feet. Walsh and Peter snapped photos as fast as
their little fingers would allow. Soon Henry’s parents
caught up to the children and began telling them
about the rich history of the area.
“This was once a storm shelter,” Mr. Lee
explained, waving his fingers around like a wand.
“Now it’s used to celebrate the city’s major festivals,
including flowers in the summer, and especially the
upcoming Chinese New Year.”
“Oh yes,” Mrs. Lee agreed holding her
husband’s hand reminiscently. “See. Look there,”
she said pointing at a caravan of people, tents, and
banners across the way. Hundreds of firework
stanchions were being raised, colorful dancers
practiced drills, and countless costume dragons lay
deflated on the grass. “I promise the Chinese New
Year in Hong Kong is an event none of you will ever
forget,” Mrs. Lee boldly promised.
“Yes. I’m sure it will be,” Mr. Lee agreed,
examining his brother’s three peaks looming in the
distance.
At noon, the Lees and their two young
traveling companions visited some of Hong Kong’s
more posh shopping venues. However, Henry,
Walsh, and Peter did not find trolling for clothes and
tourist treasure nearly as entertaining as Anne Mai
and her mother. In fact, it was all rather boring to
them until they stumbled upon King Chow, a
children’s tailor that specialized in garish Chinese
fashions. The three boys hustled inside.
35

Chapter 4
Of all the exotic styles and fabrics available
three traditional Kung Fu suits caught their eye. The
pattern included a waist-length coat that buttoned
up to the collar, and matching pants that halted at
mid calf. But it was the colors more than anything
else that captivated the young Americans – neon
yellow, red, and blue. The boys stripped the
mannequins of their garments and scurried off to
find dressing rooms. Minutes later, they reunited to
admire themselves in a freestanding mirror.
“Oh, you boys so handsome,” said an elderly
woman wearing a tape measure around her neck.
“You want me to find Chinese caps and shoes to
match?” she offered kindly.
“We want everything,” replied Walsh as he
handed over his Junior Master Charge credit card.
“Sorry. Cash only, please.” The lady declined
with a shake of her wrist.
Walsh dug into his pockets and pulled out a
wad of American fifties. A short wait ensued while
the attendant went searching into the backroom.
Before too long the smiling old woman returned with
three bags and a receipt.
“Here you are young men.” Her face wrinkled
into a smile of a thousand lines.
“No change?” Walsh raised an eyebrow
skeptically.
The saleslady shrugged and smirked.
“Come on, they’re waiting for us.” Henry
interrupted, pointing at his parents and sister who
were resting at a nearby park bench, their hands
brimming with shopping bags.
The boys raced over and showed off their new
outfits. Mr. Lee immediately reacted as though he
had eaten a bad pork bun. Mrs. Lee and Anne Mai
chuckled.
36

All that and Dim Sum
“How do we look, Mama? Walshy bought us all
of it – the clothes, the sandals, and even the hats,”
Henry yipped excitedly.
“Oh yes. You’re all very becoming.” His
mother elbowed his sister good-naturedly.
Anne Mai laughed and kissed each of the boys
playfully on the cheek, causing them to vigorously
wipe their faces. “Papa, can we go to Ocean Park
next?” the teenager begged.
“Not today, Mai Mai. It’ll be late afternoon
before we know it,” Mr. Lee reminded, checking his
wristwatch. “I’ve an idea, though. Why don’t we go
under the tunnel to Aberdeen for a late lunch and
tea?”
By four o’clock, their driver had delivered
them at the Hong Kong Harbor. As soon as the
children exited the vehicle, they whiffed the scent of
raw fish. Peter and Walsh saw scores of sampans
moored along the water’s edge, and several
boatpeople howling out cruise prices. Shortly, the
party was sailing across the South China Sea, bound
for the Jumbo Floating Restaurant.
Mrs. Lee, Henry, Walsh, and Peter stayed with
the elderly lady navigating the boat, while Anne Mai
sat with Mr. Lee at the bow. Together, father and
daughter gazed back at the shoreline. Even from
Aberdeen, the heads of the Wu Wei Towers could
still be seen. It seemed no matter where they went
in Hong Kong those three points were always
watching.
“Papa, how did you and Mama meet?” Anne
Mai asked out of the blue.
Mr. Lee mused thoughtfully for a minute.
“When she was your age, your mother was the most
beautiful girl in China. Every boy that looked upon
37

Chapter 4
her smile wanted to marry her. And I was no
different. She was discovered singing at a local
Moon-Cake Festival one summer. By year’s end, she
was the most recognizable figure model in Hong
Kong.”
“I’ll bet you swept her off her feet with a really
fancy necklace,” Anne Mai giggled.
“Not at all,” Mr. Lee shook his head. “I was
just smarter than the rest. I went to your
grandmother and asked her to dance. By the next
song she had introduced me to her daughter – your
mother.”
The ferry-lady then announced they were
about to dock with the restaurant. To Anne Mai, the
place looked like a huge cork bobbing up and down
in the ocean. The sampan tied off and the
passengers jumped onto the deck.
“Ah. Look. It’s the South China Morning
Post,” Mr. Lee declared, pointing at a newspaper
vendor. He plunked down some change and bought
a copy just as a waiter arrived to seat them.
Before long, the Lees, Walsh, and Peter were
all feasting around a table full of fresh fish and dim
sum. Peter and Walsh favored the dim sum, both
devouring enough steamed dumplings with red bean
curd and sesame seed balls to put the kitchen into a
mild panic.
During dessert, Mr. Lee took out the
newspaper that was folded neatly on his lap and
began to read. As Henry slurped up a bowl of
mango pudding, he looked up and read the headline
across the top of his father’s paper.
“Papa? What does that heading mean? ‘More
Shipping Casualties – Demon Prepares to Devour
Hong Kong Harbor at New Year’s Celebration,’” his
son asked curiously.
38

All that and Dim Sum
Walsh and Peter looked up with rounded eyes.
Mr. Lee scowled. “It’s just journalism,” he
assured. “It’s their job to sell newspapers with
headlines like that.”
Henry examined the captions. “But it says,
‘The Monster’s Lair is Almost Complete,’ and isn’t
that a picture of uncle’s new building?”
Mr. Lee folded the paper in half so his son
could no longer continue reading. Anne Mai shook
her head at her little brother, encouraging him not
to pursue the matter any further.
“COOL! MONSTERS!” Walsh exclaimed as many
patrons began to stare. “ISN’T THIS WHERE
GODZILLA WAS BORN?”
“Try Japan, genius.” Peter giggled
sarcastically.
“JUST EAT YOUR PUDDING, BUTTUMS!” Walsh
snapped back.
By now even the head chef began peeping out
of the kitchen.
“Enough.” Mr. Lee pounded the table sternly.
The boys froze straight-backed. Walsh and Peter
quivered and tried to hide their faces from his
penetrating gaze. Mrs. Lee patted her husband’s
hand to cool him down.
“Sorry, Papa,” Henry murmured guiltily.
“Sorry, Mr. Lee,” his two friends chorused
together.
“Listen carefully,” Mr. Lee explained. “There’re
no monsters – no real ones anyway. The monster
the newspaper’s talking about is just a person the
writer’s angry about. It’s a metaphor. That’s all.”
“Oh, but there are real monsters, children,” a
voice suddenly swept over Mr. Lee’s shoulder. “Only
they’ve traded in their claws and fangs for straightpin
ties and fountain pens.” The voice belonged to a
39

Chapter 4
bony old man in a shabby brown suit. Next to him
stood a well-groomed muscular young man in a
pressed shirt and tie. Both were Chinese, and both
wore revolvers and badges on their belts.
“Well, if it isn’t Chief Inspector Hsing,” Mr. Lee
said turning to address the elderly man.
“Are you surprised that I haven’t retired as
Chief of Police after all these years?” Chief Hsing
asked as he removed a brown hat to reveal a totally
bald dome.
“Not at all,” Mr. Lee replied. “So, you heard I
was in town and thought you’d swing by and scare
my children with fairytales?”
“Maybe so. This is Detective Mag,” Chief
Hsing introduced the handsome younger man. “May
we join you for a minute?” The two officers seated
themselves without delay.
Anne Mai looked curiously at her mother to
explain these people, but could see she was in no
mood to talk.
“So how goes business?” Chief Hsing asked as
he helped himself to a cup of tea.
“Just fine,” Mr. Lee answered guardedly. “And
uh, how goes the island’s business?”
“That’s a question you should ask your
brother. He would know better than anyone. I
presume you’ve come back to inaugurate his new
building with him?” the old man said glancing at
Anne Mai.
“We’re here for my son’s science fair,” Mr. Lee
replied.
Detective Mag shifted restlessly.
“Science Fair,” Chief Hsing scoffed. “I don’t
buy that for one minute. Not two days before your
brother cuts the ribbon on the most powerful bank
in Asia.”
40

All that and Dim Sum
“What do you want?” Mr. Lee demanded
directly.
“Very well,” the Chief Inspector yielded. “I
want you to take your family and leave Hong Kong.
Follow your interests elsewhere – whatever they may
be.”
“I told you a science fair is my only interest
here,” Mr. Lee repeated calmly.
The old cop stiffened up seriously. “Fine,” he
squawked, “years ago, you Taipans wouldn’t listen
when you all fled the island like crabs from a boiling
kettle. Now I’m telling you don’t come back. The
only one shipping here nowadays is your brother
and it all goes straight into his towers.”
Henry’s father removed his napkin irritably
and signaled for a waiter. “Look,” Mr. Lee swiveled
over close to the old man. “I’m not going to discuss
any of this in front of my children. This has nothing
to do with them.”
Mr. Lee paid the bill and escorted his party
away. Outdoors, they boarded another sampan and
sailed off into the twilight. Chief Hsing and
Detective Mag watched the little boat disappear from
a window inside the restaurant.
Back on the land, their driver once again
picked up the Lee family, Walsh, and Peter. This
time, however, the drive home to the palace was a
very quiet one. Mrs. Lee sat softly holding her
husband’s hand while he rubbed his forehead with
his fingers. Anne Mai could not help but wonder
whether this vacation was marked for bad luck. At
any rate, it seemed clear why her parents had
resisted chaperoning.
Suddenly, the Rolls Royce swerved violently,
tossing its occupants about like a salad. The car
41

Chapter 4
locked up its brakes and narrowly avoided hitting a
throng of people. After a momentary daze, Anne
Mai lifted her head to see what had happened. The
Rolls Royce was surrounded by a mob of dirty folks
who were shouting and spitting on the windows.
Mr. Lee protected his family under outstretched
arms, swiveling his head from side-to-side.
“Who are they?!” his wife cried out in shock.
“Fishermen! Get the locks!” her husband
ordered the driver.
The hordes outdoors bared their yellow teeth
and began rocking the vehicle back and forth as they
pelted it with signs and pebbles. Many men held out
rods with fish skeletons attached to twine, and
dangled them in a show of furor. Rapidly, the crowd
grew violent and broke the front windshield. The
chauffeur was dragged out, kicking and screaming
through the glass.
Henry could see his father’s face change from
one of horror to one of rage. The man pried the
door open and boldly strode forth into the crowd.
“Papa!” his son cried.
Mr. Lee slammed the car door closed on his
family. The masses backed away upon seeing this
unexpectedly brave figure. Mr. Lee scolded them
loudly and shoved the driver back inside the car.
Anne Mai watched the man slump over in his seat,
his jacket torn and stained. The multitude began
bearing down on Mr. Lee with hands ready for
wrenching.
BANG, BANG! Abruptly, a volley of gunshots
pierced the air. It was the Chinese Navy, spilling
onto the dock like tunas from a net. The ocean
swarmed with artillery-bound watercraft, and the
powerful servicemen quickly overwhelmed the
fishermen and subdued the unrest.
42

All that and Dim Sum
A lieutenant, who called himself Kang,
dispatched a garrison of troops to encircle the
damaged Rolls Royce. The soldiers ran up to Mr.
Lee and bowed three times each.
43

Chapter 5
THE WU WEI TOWERS
Late that night, Anne Mai tossed restlessly in
her sleep. Sweat glistened around her eyes and
nose as she murmured under her breath. Strange
noises began to fill her ears, and suddenly the girl
awoke with a start. Panting heavily, Anne Mai
looked around the bedroom. A faint whispering
haunted the air. She tiptoed over to the door in her
nightgown and pressed an ear to the wall, but the
sound was still as dim as the light outdoors.
Anne Mai slowly opened the door and slipped
into the corridor. A glow beckoned from a doorway
down the hall. The girl drew closer to the light and
the whispering became two distinct voices. Anne
Mai shivered nervously at the thought of being
caught, and also at the devilish statuettes leering at
her from all corners of her uncle’s palace. Soon the
voices rose into a heated debate. It was her parents
talking.
“Ming Xa,” she heard her mother’s voice say,
“let’s just leave – tomorrow in fact. Things have
changed too much. We don’t belong here anymore.”
“Listen to me. We’re not going anywhere, Xio
Xing,” her father’s voice answered. “He’s my little
44

The Wu Wei Towers
brother and I’m certainly not afraid to deal with
him. My father would expect me to.”
“It’s not safe – especially for the children after
what happened yesterday,” the woman pleaded with
her husband.
“I refuse to be chased away from my
homeland. We came here to attend our son’s science
fair and that’s what we are going to do,” Mr. Lee
insisted. “In fact, I…”
Anne Mai squinted her eyes to hear this last
bit, but suddenly a tingly gust of wind blew over her
back. Turning around, a pair of hovering eyeballs
glared menacingly at her. The bodiless eyeballs
then blinked. The teen stood up with a fright,
knocking her head against a silver gong that
featured a fierce dragon embossed in its middle.
The metal gong howled like an alarm around her
uncle’s estate.
“What’s that?” a voice cried.
Anne Mai sprinted back down the hall to her
room and buried her head under the covers. Many
voices started collecting outside her door. Anne
Mai’s heart pounded so loudly she was sure the
whole house could hear it. But after several minutes
the voices returned to their quarters and the palace
fell silent once again. An hour later, the girl still lay
motionless. Finally, she dozed back into an uneasy
sleep – those two ghostly eyes frozen in her mind.
The next morning, Mr. Lee awoke with the
sun. He walked briskly down the hall dressed for
business in the finest suit he had packed. The man
stepped in front of a mirror to sharpen his tie, then
turned into the courtyard to find his brother. But he
was not there. Mr. Lee spent several more minutes
searching the grounds, but could find no sign of his
45

Chapter 5
twin. Finally, a manservant emerged from the
kitchen carrying a kettle of tea.
“I need to speak with my brother. Have you
seen him this morning?” Mr. Lee asked seriously.
“Yes sir. But Mr. Lee at office, sir,” the servant
replied.
“At this hour? What ever would he be doing
there?” the houseguest protested.
The worker only shrugged and hustled away.
At that moment, Mrs. Lee, Anne Mai, Henry and
Walsh entered the grand foyer. They, too, were
dressed in their best (though Anne Mai still looked
half asleep).
“Good morning, husband.” Mrs. Lee smiled. “I
thought our children might like to meet their other
relations today.”
“Yeah, totally,” Henry said excitedly. “Then
Gung-Gung can take us to Ocean Park!”
“Who’s Gung-Gung and what’s so great about
Ocean Park?” Walsh inquired.
“He’s my grandfather, and I read Ocean Park
has the best roller coasters in Hong Kong,” the
Chinese lad explained.
“I’m in.” Walsh hustled over to the door.
Mr. Lee stood stunned. He did not know
whether to feel relief or shock that the boys had
already shrugged off the events of yesterday. “No.
Absolutely not.” The man shook his head. “Now,
I’m leaving to go put some things in order. While
I’m gone no one is to step foot outside this door.”
“But it’s been years since I’ve seen them, Ming
Xa,” his wife appealed.
“Just wait here with the children until I get
back. Then I promise to take you there myself,” Mr.
Lee insisted.
46

The Wu Wei Towers
Mrs. Lee nodded reluctantly and her husband
turned and marched out the front doors.
Peter then trotted merrily into the room
wearing only a shower cap, slippers, and a body
towel (all covered in little blue ducks). “Hey, where’s
everybody going?” He asked scratching his tummy.
“Looks like nowhere,” Walsh replied grumpily.
The Wu Wei Towers soared into the Hong
Kong air like three swords drawn toward the
heavens. The base of the building comprised of
black marble rose gradually into the triple peaks of
golden glass. Just to reach the foot of the enormous
complex, one needed to walk over a half-mile of
causeways, parkways, and jet-ways. There, the Wu
Wei emblem was embedded in an acre of gilded
granite that swept up a flight of circular steps.
High atop the eighty-eighth floor of Tower
One sat Uncle Shang Sin in his penthouse
overlooking the city. The man twiddled his dragonhandled
cane between his fingers while nodding
uninterestedly at a small Chinese man in rectangular
spectacles.
“Mr. Lee?” the tiny man said, shifting in his
chair impatiently.
The powerful businessman sat deep in his own
thoughts, unaware he was tapping his cane hard into
the tile floor.
“Mr. Lee, can you hear me?”
“Yes, yes, Lineus. I’m listening,” Uncle Shang
Sin replied, turning around and smirking at his
accountant.
Lineus Leung cropped his short black hair and
opened a thick ledger onto the boardroom table.
“As I was saying,” he continued. “There’s a problem.
For the third straight quarter the gold count is much
47

Chapter 5
too, much too high.” Leung spun the ledger around
and slid it over to his boss’s waiting fingers.
Uncle Shang Sin examined a column of
numbers that were recorded in black. The man
blinked disbelievingly at the numbers. “Are you sure
your men counted the vaults correctly?”
“I counted it myself,” Leung guaranteed. “It’s
not just a few bullion bars either. These are gross
overages; the likes of which could get us all in a lot
of trouble.”
Uncle Shang Sin breathed deeply and rubbed
his forehead. “Thanks for bringing this to my
attention. I’ll look into it,” he promised.
“Mr. Lee, you hired me because of my
reputation for honesty. So I’m asking you if there’s
anything else I should know? Anything you want to
tell me?” Lineus stared gravely.
His boss gazed at the numbers in the ledger a
second time then slammed the book closed. “No.
Nothing,” Uncle Shang Sin answered sternly. “Are we
done?”
The accountant frowned. “Yes, there is one
more thing. Your gold may be way over, but your
office furniture is way short.”
“Office furniture?” his boss reacted with a
chuckle.
“That’s correct, sir. Almost half of your
bookshelves, filing cabinets, and workstations are
missing.”
“That doesn’t sound like such a bad trade-off,
does it? Bookshelves for gold?” Uncle Shang Sin
patted his employee’s shoulder.
Lineus stood stone-faced as ever. “You have a
thief in your building, Mr. Lee. Tomorrow morning’s
the next big shipment, and I’m going down to the
48

The Wu Wei Towers
docks to hand-count every crate and box.” At that
moment a light lit up on the office intercom.
“Mr. Lee, sir. You have visitor. Your brother
he say,” said a young female voice on the other end.
Uncle Shang Sin smiled broadly. “I’ll be right
down,” he said back into the speaker, then looked
up again. “Talo, show our Mr. Leung the door.”
The bodyguard’s great shadow emerged from
the corner, and he shooed the accountant away.
In a few minutes, a marble-carved elevator
came down the shaft and landed on the first floor.
From the doors came a grinning Shang Sin Lee
followed by a brooding Lineus Leung. Uncle Shang
Sin immediately hugged his older brother in the
middle of a cavernous lobby, while Lineus brushed
out of the building with a disgruntled stare.
“I’m so glad you came. So what do you think?”
Uncle Shang Sin asked, sweeping his hand in front of
Mr. Lee’s face. “It’s all very modern, those hanging
mirrors over there, the pointed light fixtures
overhead, and the gold coin fountain you see in the
middle.”
Henry’s father took a few minutes to look
about. Shimmering in ivory or jade, every panel
featured red dragon streamers that floated elegantly
along the walls.
“It’s almost too good to be true,” Mr. Lee said
hesitantly. “It doesn’t appear to hold with much
traditional Feng Shui though, does it?”
“Feng Shui? Bah. Chinese mysticisms,” his
sibling scoffed loudly. “Out with the old and in with
the new. That’s the Hong Kong way. Come, I’ve
much to show you.”
For the next hour the two brothers toured
around the remarkable structure, eventually
49

Chapter 5
completing a circle through all three towers. Mr. Lee
listened patiently while every inch of the building
was explained in detail. He soon began to view his
little brother as a spoiled child who was boasting
about a new toy. Though, the site did look aweinspiring,
it also gave off the sensation of being
overly grown. It seemed the architect had designed
every passage with a jumbo jet in mind, rather than
people.
At long last, the journey ended on the
seventieth floor of Tower One. Uncle Shang Sin
shuffled his eyebrows and eagerly opened a set of
big blue doors. Inside stood an elaborate system of
hydraulic pipes snaking around the room. In the
middle, a humongous water cannon pointed out
over the South China Sea.
“Here. I’ve saved the best for last,” the man
said, patting the cannon. “I guarantee there’s
nothing like this in the States. Watch!” He hopped
over to a big valve with a blue wheel and cranked it
open. The pipes filled with water pressure and the
room began to rumble. “GO AHEAD!” Uncle Shang
Sin shouted, pointing at a red lever.
Mr. Lee cautiously stepped atop a pedestal
and released the lever. SPLOOSH! A torrent of water
blew out of the cannon’s nozzle like a whale’s
blowhole. An arch of rain shot over the ocean,
cascading a rainbow of colors in the afternoon
sunlight. At seventy stories high, the whole island
could see the manmade wonder – even Walsh, Peter,
and Henry who were playing Mah Jong in the palace
courtyard. Henry’s father stood in disbelief and
pulled the red lever closed, ending the show.
“Do you like it?” Uncle Shang Sin asked. “I had
my men design this thing months ago just for the
grand opening. At the stroke of midnight tonight it
50

The Wu Wei Towers
will finally be time – the unveiling of years of work –
the Wu Wei Towers.”
Mr. Lee said nothing in reply. He came down
from the pedestal and sat on the bottom step,
clearing his throat and preparing to say what he
came to say. “It’s been many years, Shang Sin. I
don’t know how you made your fortune and I’m not
going to ask you, but the people of that city down
there are terrified of you.”
“What are you talking about?” Uncle Shang Sin
wrinkled his face defensively.
“I’m talking about doing business the way our
father would want us to,” Mr. Lee scolded. “Since
I’ve been here, I’ve been warned by the police about
you, and yesterday, was nearly mauled by a pack of
fishermen protesting you.”
“They’re poor jealous fishermen. You know
they’re always like that,” his younger twin retorted
back.
“I know they’re like that when they’re starving.
Listen, Shang Sin,” Mr. Lee calmed his demeanor.
“I’m your brother. You can trust me. If you’ve
gotten in over your head I’ll help you set things
right. Just ask me.”
Uncle Shang Sin strangled his cane tightly.
“Ming Xa, the benevolent Taipan. Our father would
indeed be proud,” he seethed sarcastically.
“The Lee name does not belong to you. It’s a
right you are entrusted with,” Mr. Lee reminded.
“It’s easy to talk rights when you are given a
whole empire at birth,” Uncle Shang Sin bellowed,
smashing his cane against a metal pipe.
“You’re still bitter after all this time.” Mr. Lee
shook his head.
“Bitter?” Uncle Shang Sin complained.
“Twenty-nine seconds separated us in our mother’s
51

Chapter 5
womb, but that half-minute has earned you a
lifetime of favor.”
“Now you listen here, little one,” Mr. Lee stood
up tall. “You may have the whole island scared of
your shadow – but I’m not. By the end of this week,
if I find you’re involved in any thugs and bribes
practices, I’ll be back to teach you a lesson.”
A sinister glow ignited in Uncle Shang Sin’s
eyes. “No one talks to me that way,” he scowled and
hunched his back. “Do you know what I could do to
you, Ming Xa? Hong Kong is mine. I own it now.
Get out of my sight before I have you dragged out!”
“You’ve changed, little brother,” Mr. Lee
admonished as he went for the door.
“You’ve no idea, big brother,” Uncle Shang Sin
snarled maliciously.
That evening, the sky painted itself in red
clouds. Anne Mai sat amongst the cherry blossom
trees that adorned the palace garden. The teen
perused countless images of her ancestors on an old
shrine, trying to decide which faces might belong to
her paternal grandparents. But all at once, the
serenity was shattered as the front doors thundered
inside her uncle’s estate.
The entire household quickly collected at the
entryway to see what had happened. Mr. Lee stood
red-faced and writhing under his necktie. Uncle
Shang Sin’s wife and house servants bowed several
times courteously, but Henry’s father appeared too
indignant to respond.
Mrs. Lee swiftly interceded. “What is it dear?
What happened?”
“Pack your things! All of you!” the man told
his wife and children agitatedly. “We’re leaving!”
52

The Wu Wei Towers
Within minutes, the Lee family, Walsh, and
Peter were packed and loaded into a waiting cab on
the street below. Anne Mai looked back at her aunt
who stood silently in the palace doorway next to her
speechless menservants. Without any further
explanation, the taxi sped off into the city. The
woman’s eyes watched thoughtfully as she placed a
fingernail to her lips. Then she disappeared back
into the estate in a ruffle of silken robes.
53

Chapter 6
CHINESE NEW YEAR
By six o’clock that evening, the Hong Kong
streets were already on a build-up to celebration. As
the boys gazed out the taxi window, they could feel
the energy drumming like a rocket about to take off.
Mr. Lee, however, looked far more preoccupied with
finding his family a place to stay the night. The cab
driver suggested the Emperor Hotel, but Henry’s
father hostilely dismissed the idea.
“Something simple is all we need tonight,” the
man instructed the cabbie.
The car sped deeper into the dense city lights.
Unfortunately, no matter where they went, whether
inn, motel, or hotel, everything on the island was
booked up solid. Mr. Lee knew he did not have a
prayer of finding any vacancies on the opening night
of Chinese New Year. But he held on stubbornly
anyway. By the sixth failed attempt, though, the
man had plopped his face into his hands.
“Take us to another location,” he mumbled
dismally.
“Wait, Ming Xa,” Mrs. Lee finally broke her
silence. “Take us to 1616 Harbor Boulevard,” she
told the driver. Her husband lifted his head in a half
54

Chinese New Year
protest, but then slumped back into his seat
exhausted. The taxi pulled away once again. Henry
looked up at his sister to see if she knew where they
were headed, but Anne Mai only shrugged.
Before too long they pulled onto a lane of skyrise
apartments. Here, the familiar scent of salty air
filled the car. They were near the wharf again. Rows
of old fishing vessels lined the shore. Some were
tethered to piers while others were propped on dry
docks. At a quarter till seven, the cab pulled up to a
small sea-house that jutted above the ocean on
stilts. The number 1616 was posted out front.
Mr. Lee paid the driver and his party slung
their luggage over their shoulders, trudging wearily
over a bridge of gently lapping water. The residence
sat small and humble, but appeared to be clean and
inviting. Mr. Lee slipped to the back of the party
while his wife knocked politely. As the door opened,
a yellow light spilled into the street. An old Chinese
woman in a housedress stood squinting at the
evening callers. Suddenly, her face swept with
disbelief.
Mrs. Lee broke into giggles and wrapped her
arms around the woman. Clenched eyelids poured
forth tears as the two exchanged greetings in
Cantonese. An elderly Chinese man stepped into the
light next, and Henry and his older sister set to bow
graciously. But before they could, they were
swooped up into his arms. The old man’s limbs
were dark and strong and smelled of spicy fish.
“Mai Mai, Henry,” their mother said wiping her
eyes. “I’d like you to meet your Grandpa and
Grandma Chen. You can call them Gung-Gung and
A-Poh-Poh,” (meaning mother’s father and mother).
Grandma Chen began to stroke Anne Mai’s long
black locks and gaze upon her with pride. She then
55

Chapter 6
saw a gold pendant hanging around the girl’s neck
and took it between her wrinkly fingers. The old
woman became overwhelmed and fell seated upon
the porch. Everyone chuckled nervously and helped
her up again, but it took a full minute before she
could stand.
“You’re fifteen,” Grandma Chen said to Anne
Mai in wispy broken English. “I remember giving
this to your mother when she was fifteen and telling
her someday to give it to you.”
“Come, come inside quick,” Grandpa Chen
urged kindly, filing people through his doorway.
Mr. Lee came inside last and quietly shook
hands with his father-in-law. “Hello, Mr. Chen. Sorry
we’re unannounced. I promise we won’t be a
burden for long.”
Soon everyone sat around a charming kitchen
enjoying cola and bowls of fresh lychees. Walsh and
Peter already felt more at home here than they had
the whole time at Uncle Shang Sin’s palace. Grandpa
and Grandma Chen accepted them as if they, too,
were their grandchildren. Henry’s grandfather
toured the boys around his modest home. Several
traditional Chinese trimmings held the place in
order, such as numerous tiny statues of the goddess
Tin Hau – protectress of seafarers.
Meanwhile, back at the kitchen table, Grandma
Chen draped her arms lovingly around Anne Mai and
whispered something eagerly to her daughter.
“Mai Mai, your A-Poh-Poh wants to teach you a
song she taught me as a little girl,” Mrs. Lee smiled
at Anne Mai. “It’s an old Cantonese poem we
translated into English, though it’s a little hard to
understand.”
I once saw a girl by the old yellow river,
56

Chinese New Year
her hair was black as a new arrow’s quiver.
I twice saw a girl with duckbilled shoes,
she brushed locks longer than a river’s
sloughs.
I thrice heard her tell a cat who could sing,
keep a dark secret - keep a gold ring.
A festival for the dead,
a festival for the living,
virgins prancing,
kisses never giving.
Dragons on a stick,
dragons in a stack,
launch all the fireworks
should they fly to attack.
Within no time Anne Mai had picked up the
tune and three generations of Chen women were
singing it together. But despite the festive reunion,
one member of the Lee family sat alone in the
corner. Mr. Lee. So later when the idea of going out
got suggested, Mrs. Lee only motioned to her
husband with doubtful eyes. Grandpa Chen nodded
and went over to see what he could do.
“Would you like some light, Mr. Lee?” the old
man offered, snapping on an overhead bulb.
Henry’s father sat clutching his cell phone. He
had been feverishly dialing every lawyer he knew
trying to devise a way of returning his operations to
Hong Kong. “I don’t mean to be a bother, Mr. Chen.
I just have many things weighing me down. I expect
we’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow morning.”
“As you can see, that will not be necessary,”
Grandpa Chen pointed at his hairless scalp jokingly.
“Say, I hear the city’s up for quite a party tonight.
57

Chapter 6
Maybe the children would like to see it, eh?” his
father-in-law hinted.
“Yes, I know,” Mr. Lee answered remotely as
he stared at the crowded kitchen table. The boys
were cramming lychee fruit into their teeth while the
ladies sipped their cola quietly. “It’s just that, well,
we’ve run into some trouble since we’ve been back.”
Mr. Chen sat down, his face looking grim as
he heard this news. “The island’s not how you left
her, is it?” he said as delicately as possible.
“I don’t even recognize her anymore, sir. Can
you tell me what’s happened?” his son-in-law asked.
“I want you to be honest with me,” Mr. Lee assured
him. “I know it involves my brother.”
Grandpa Chen dipped his head. The old man
stared out the window for a time, listening to the
shouts of fireworks in the distance. “I don’t know
the whole story, only what the fishermen say. When
your brother’s building first broke ground it was just
three points of scaffolding. But before long it grew
so big the winds started to change.”
“You don’t actually mean the climate?” Mr. Lee
shook his head in disbelief.
“It grows hotter every summer,” Grandpa Chen
replied. “Men first started noticing a horrible stink
in the air. Some mornings scores of dead fish were
found rotting on the beaches; then whole schools
went missing from the sea.”
“The fishermen blame all this bad fortune on
my brother?” Mr. Lee sulked.
“They blame your brother because they can’t
even fish a pond without his permits. And the only
one getting any permits is the motherland who ships
straight into his offices,” Grandpa Chen snapped
hotly. “I, uh, lost my charter last year,” he admitted,
laboring into a sigh.
58

Chinese New Year
Mr. Lee gazed up remorsefully. “I feel I am to
blame for this,” he said smacking his fists together.
“But I swear to you I’m not finished yet. I’ll make it
right. I should’ve never left.”
“Oh, but you did leave, Mr. Lee,” his father-inlaw
interrupted. “Look there.” Grandpa Chen
pointed towards the kitchen where Henry and Anne
Mai sat watching. He then stood up and extended
his weathered hand with a grin. “And you can’t buy
the island back in a day. I say we celebrate Hong
Kong tonight and solve all her problems in the
morning.”
Henry’s father hesitated but accepted the
man’s hand, dropping his cell phone. “We’ll do just
that,” Mr. Lee declared.
Within minutes the household set about
changing into their finest clothes. The two fathers
wore suits, while the wives and Anne Mai sported
red Cheongsams (a traditional dress of Chinese
women). Of course, Peter, Henry, and Walsh were
only too happy to dig out their neon Kung Fu suits
once again.
Soon everyone sat buckled up in the Chens’
sputtering old Mercury station wagon. The antique
car rolled onto the road and disappeared into the
night. However, a dark outline rose along the empty
street. It was a cat with menacing yellow eyes and a
charcoal tail that swished back and forth devilishly.
CLIP-CLOP, CLIP-CLOP – the animal pranced away in
a clatter of peculiar hoof-beats.
The city felt electric. Every street swam in red
and gold serpents, and the docks were overrun with
giggling children and sweet mouth-watering foods.
Music blared, gongs thundered, and costumes shone
as bright as the hanging lanterns overhead. Henry,
59

Chapter 6
Walsh, and Peter chased around like puppies after
their tails, each waving sparklers in the air. But
Walsh accidentally jabbed his sparkler into a young
muscle-bound thug sitting atop a high-powered
motorcycle.
“Sorry, bro,” Walsh apologized.
The Chinese hoodlum pushed down his dark
sunglasses and leered at the rowdy boy. Next, a
gang of some twenty more motorcyclists pulled up.
All of them wore colorful bandanas and sported ugly
tattoos. Mr. Lee quickly interceded and escorted the
child away.
“What’s their problem?” Walsh asked
anxiously.
“Don’t worry about them,” Mr. Lee replied.
“They won’t be causing any trouble.” Henry’s father
motioned across the street where Chief Hsing sat
alongside rows of uniformed officers. Behind them
stood an even greater number of Chinese naval
troopers stoically surveying the docks.
Walsh breathed a little easier, though not by
much.
The tourists strolled along, idly enjoying the
many parades and dancers. The boys had never
seen so many people all packed into one place.
Around a last bend, Mr. Lee caught a glimpse of his
brother’s towers arching over the jetty like a
monstrous king’s crown. The juggernaut rained
spotlights down onto a podium of eastern
dignitaries awaiting the building’s grand opening.
Suddenly, everything on the island hushed as
a drumbeat set an expectant tempo. All attention
veered towards the top platform. Next, all the lights
everywhere vanished in a rolling wave. A million
sets of lungs inhaled a collective gasp. But after the
longest heartbeat, the power flooded back on,
60

Chinese New Year
surging into the Wu Wei Towers. The island
exploded in euphoria.
Shang Sin Lee appeared out of thin air
brandishing a first-century Chinese blade. He sliced
a red ribbon in half and a 300-foot dragon banner
went soaring into the night. Fireworks cracked open
against the moonlight, and the Wu Wei cannon fired
a mixed rainbow of waterworks and laser lights into
the skies.
“Whoa! How tall is that water cannon?” Henry
inquired excitedly.
“Seventy stories from Tower One,” Mr. Lee
answered. The man then turned to his wife. “Maybe
I was too hasty,” he whispered into her ear. “After
all, my brother has worked his whole life for this
day.”
Uncle Shang Sin stood atop the platform
amidst a pack of handshakes and television
cameras. Flashbulbs winked furiously while the
dragon banner flapped proudly in the ocean
breezes.
The night came and went, and by 2 AM the
streets were beginning to empty. The Lees, the
Chens, Walsh, and Peter got back into the old
Mercury and headed home, unaware that a pair of
eyes watched them. Chief Hsing lit a cigar in the
darkness and shuffled away.
The children entered the sea-house at 1616
Harbor Boulevard completely worn out. Henry was
fast asleep on his mother’s arm, Anne Mai on
Grandpa Chen’s shoulder, and Peter, heavily on Mr.
Lee’s back. Walsh traipsed in last of all, like a
zombie with sunglasses.
Anne Mai lay down in her own bedroom
(inside the very bed where her mother had slept as a
61

Chapter 6
girl). The boys shared a room down the hall where
they unrolled sleeping bags on the floor. Mr. and
Mrs. Chen insisted their daughter and son-in-law
take the master bedroom while they slept on a spare
futon.
The Lees kissed the Chens goodnight and
retired to their room. Henry’s mother quickly
began changing into her nightgown, but her
husband only brooded glumly in the corner. He
loosened his tie and sat down grumbling about his
little brother and their heated words earlier that
afternoon.
“I just don’t understand why he hates me so
much, Xio Xing?” he muttered angrily. “Because I
inherited what was rightfully mine? He’s got his own
empire now. What more does he want?”
Mrs. Lee sauntered over to her husband at the
end of the bed and gently removed his jacket and
tie, kissing him delicately on the forehead. “You
have nothing to be ashamed of,” she whispered in
his ear. “Don’t fret my love. You are one of the
richest men in the world because you have a family
who loves you. No one can take that away from
you.”
Miles across town, an identical scene began
unfolding in the Lees’ ancestral palace. Uncle Shang
Sin sat in his tuxedo in a dim corner of the master
bedroom, griping heavily about his older brother.
“He’s jealous of me. He should never have
come back and tried to push me around,” the man
complained, stroking the teeth of his dragonhandled
cane.
His wife wrapped her hands around him and
affectionately removed his overcoat, cummerbund,
and bowtie. Uncle Shang Sin slumped against a
62

Chinese New Year
bedpost as he melted into the woman’s massaging
fingers.
“Don’t fret, my love,” she spoke in a sultry
voice, “you’re the wealthiest man in Hong Kong now.
He won’t be able to take that away from you.”
63

Chapter 7
KIDNAPPED
Anne Mai lay sound asleep in her mother’s
childhood bed, and for the first time since she’d
arrived in Hong Kong, her dreams were peaceful.
Her grandparent’s home sat quiet, a cricket on the
windowsill the only noise. Then, the cricket’s
melody went silent. Anne Mai awoke bolt upright in
bed. She felt a force summoning her. It sounded
strange like a ghost calling in the wind. Was it her
parents again? She rose in her nightgown and
opened the door.
Whispers overtook her in the hallway,
beckoning her further. Anne Mai moved in a trance
towards the family room. The teen thought she
might be caught in a dream, but the icy floor
beneath her toes informed her that it couldn’t be.
Around the kitchen the whispering got stronger and
stronger. Soon Anne Mai knew she would be in the
presence of the speaker.
Anne Mai entered the living room and saw a
pair of worm-rotten curtains covering the window.
This did not at all appear to be the fluffy white fabric
that had been there the night before. It looked like
hellish red cloth that hung straight down to the
64

Kidnapped
carpet. Plumes of smoke billowed up from
underneath it as though it were on fire, and peals of
lightning revealed a heinous silhouette waiting
behind. The whispering voice suddenly broke out in
a sinister rhyme.
See it child. Would it not be good to see it?
Throw the blinds and know what cries.
Open your eyes and utter no lies.
See it child. Would it not be good to see it?
These words had such power. Anne Mai had
no choice but to obey. Against her will she felt her
arms rising towards the curtains. Lightning crashed
again, and again the silhouette of something huge
and awful sat perched just outside the window.
See it child. Would it not be good to see it?
kept repeating over and over in the girl’s head.
Anne Mai’s fingers took hold of the cloth. It felt hot
and damp. With a last crack of thunder, the girl
obeyed and threw the curtains asunder.
“MAI MAI!” Henry hollered, his head jumping
straight off his pillow. Morning light streamed
through the open drapes and the boy rubbed his
sandy eyelids. I must have overslept, he thought.
Peter and Walsh were already gone, their sleeping
sacks wadded messily in the corner.
Those scoundrels must be eating all the
breakfast, Henry mused as he began changing out
of his plaid pajamas. He quickly remembered a
terrible nightmare he’d just been having about his
big sister, but the boy ignored the eerie dream and
pulled on his sneakers.
When Henry arrived at the kitchen table
everyone was almost finished eating: Peter, Walsh,
65

Chapter 7
his parents and grandparents – everyone except
Anne Mai. She had not shown.
“Come sit down. Here’s your plate.” Grandma
Chen smiled happily over a steaming pile of rice.
“Thank you, A-Poh-Poh,” Henry responded
sleepily.
“You still look tired son,” Mr. Lee declared
tapping his watch.
“I suppose I should go see about Mai Mai,
too,” Mrs. Lee added, looking around the corner.
“It’s not like her to oversleep.”
“Did you see how tired she looked last night?
Let her be,” Mr. Lee implored.
“Ai! Chen! You left that window open last
night,” Grandma Chen grumbled at her husband.
The old woman got up and went into the family
room. A soft breeze gently blew in through the
clean white curtains.
Mrs. Lee watched her mother close the
windowpane, a ripple of concern clinging to her lips.
“I’m going to go see about Mai Mai,” she insisted.
Mrs. Lee disappeared down the hall, her knuckles
rapping loudly on every door. WHAP, WHAP, WHAP!
WHAP, WHAP, WHAP! WHAP, WHAP, WHAP!
“Hey! I need to tell you guys about this really
weird dream I had last night,” Walsh blurted out with
a mouth full of congee.
Suddenly an ear-piercing shriek rang
throughout the house. Mrs. Lee lurched out of the
hall clenching Anne Mai’s pillow in her fists. “ANNE
MAI’S GONE!”
Within the hour an entire police squadron was
combing the neighborhood searching for the
missing teenager. Mrs. Lee watched helplessly as
officers dusted for fingerprints, tapped the phone
66

Kidnapped
lines, and spread photos of her daughter over the
kitchen table. Her mother sat next to her in
disbelief, weeping onto her daughter’s shoulder.
“How could this happen? Who would do this
to my only granddaughter?” Grandma Chen wept.
Chief Hsing sighed and walked over to Mr. Lee
near the sofa. “Don’t worry. There’s a very short list
of criminals we’re working on,” the old cop
guaranteed, folding his arms and sitting down
respectfully.
Mr. Lee did not answer. He only murmured
under his breath as though trying to solve the crime
in his head.
Chief Hsing leaned in closer. “Mr. Lee? Can
you think of anyone who might want to hurt Anne
Mai? Maybe even to hurt you? Any threats?
Anything you can recall recently?”
Mr. Lee looked up slowly and thought awhile.
“No. Nothing,” he muttered after a minute.
“All right. I’m sure we’ll get a break,” Chief
Hsing offered confidently.
At that moment, Detective Mag raced through
the front door, almost knocking over Walsh, Peter,
and Henry. He walked straight up to his boss. The
room went completely quiet. “Chief Inspector,” the
young detective whispered in a rush. “We found
something outside.”
Chief Hsing appeared to be expecting this
report. He nodded affirmatively and followed his
junior officer towards the door.
“MAI MAI!” Mrs. Lee then exclaimed, and took
off out the door ahead of them. Henry instinctively
chased after his mother, and Walsh and Peter
followed suit by chasing after him.
“WAIT! STOP!” the Chief barked futilely.
Outdoors, Mrs. Lee pushed her way through a
67

Chapter 7
crowd of policemen. As soon as she wriggled free a
gasp escaped her lips. One whole side of the house
was blackened with charred cinders, and deep
gashes were dug into the living room windowsill.
“Mama, what happened?” Henry asked as he
and his friends came racing up behind Mrs. Lee.
Before she could answer, Mr. Lee and Chief Hsing
reached them too. Henry’s father appeared ready to
burst. But that was before he looked up and saw
what everyone was staring at.
“They lit the house – on fire?” Mr. Lee
stammered. “How could they do that when there
was no smoke, no noise, no alarm?”
Detective Mag now pressed in as well.
“Sir. The kidnappers left a note,” Mag
informed Chief Hsing. He handed his superior a
yellow parchment tucked in an evidence baggie.
Chief Hsing crinkled his bushy white eyebrows
and read a message written in thick gold ink.
I bid you welcome to the land of all lands,
for my treasure is sweet, and replete of all hands.
I’ve invited your daughter to come feast on my fill,
now fly home at once – do not linger here still.
If you do what I say, and follow my commands,
when you arrive, you’ll have my demands.
Chief Hsing stared seriously at Mr. Lee and
handed him the note. “They want you to go home,”
Chief Hsing said grimly.
“I’m not going anywhere!” Henry’s father
tossed the note back at the old man. “I’m not
leaving the island any different than I came – with
my family!”
Chief Hsing nodded as if he expected this
68

Kidnapped
answer. “Very well. We’ve got a lot of work to do.
Time is crucial when a child’s been abducted.”
Henry retreated to the bedroom where the
boys had slept the night before and curled up into
his knees. Walsh and Peter sat down quietly next to
their heaving friend. He did not cry, though. Henry
never cried even when he got hurt playing freeze tag
or dodge ball at school.
“Some New Year’s, huh?” Walsh tried to be
witty. Peter rolled his eyes.
“Henry, I bet this is all just a big mix-up.
Those policemen will find her,” the redhead
encouraged.
“Yeah,” Walsh agreed, rubbing Henry’s
shoulder. “This probably happens to a lot of
tourists.”
None of their sentiments seemed to be
working. Their friend refused to be cheered.
69

Chapter 8
THE DUNGEON
Anne Mai slowly opened her eyelids.
Everything became blurry. Red drapery spun in her
mind. What a horrible nightmare, she thought
groggily, and reached to pull up her comforter. But
she did not find it. The girl smelled a musty odor in
the air. A noise like trickling water sounded in her
ears. Anne Mai felt around with her palms and
touched upon cold rough stone.
The teenager shot up and rubbed her eyes.
Her chest began to heave as she realized she was
not sleeping. She focused hard in the dimness, but
nothing made any sense. A faint glow revealed a
door of metal bars. Everything else sat steeped in
solid brick. She was in a cell.
“Mama!” Anne Mai shouted, her voice
bouncing around the walls. “Papa! A-Poh-Poh!
Gung-Gung! Henry!” The girl’s cheeks began to
burn with frustration. Couldn’t anyone hear her?
Was she all alone?
Anne Mai rose silently in her nightgown. She
expected to be shivering with cold. But, actually, the
air felt hot and humid, even suffocating. Anne Mai
70

The Dungeon
cautiously ran her fingers over the brickwork. It was
clear she was a prisoner.
“But why?” Anne Mai asked herself aloud. It
had to be about money. Someone must be trying to
extort her father. This thought actually seemed
comforting; Anne Mai knew he would pay any
amount to bring her home safely. But how long
might that take? The teen sighed heavily and closed
her eyes, leaning her body against the wall.
All of a sudden, something bit the back of her
head. Anne Mai jerked away and let out a painful
scream. Inside one of the bricks emerged a nasty
face chewing a clump of the girl’s long hairs
between its crooked teeth. The shock only got
worse. There were more of them. Soon all the
bricks in the cell had gnarled faces, protruding from
the stonework like unhappy little men.
Anne Mai jumped to the middle of the room
so none of them could reach her. The creatures
began to taunt the frightened youth with snide
words and speckled tongues.
“Hey you! Freshness!” said the one who had
bitten her. The rest of the bricks clamored down
indicating he might be the leader. “You look scared.
Answer me. Are you scared of us?” The walls began
chuckling. “See, that is what we is good at,
Freshness,” the brick continued. “That and singing.
Hoy. Let us sing you a song. Welcome you proper.”
The tiny faces all nodded in agreement and
harmonized their voices into a chorus.
The air down here is full of treasure,
rich with pleasure,
dressed in leisure.
The smells are all ripe with power,
71

stands a tower,
duck and cower.
Chapter 8
The sound around is that of coin,
tis rich man’s loin,
and now you’ll join…
the other four,
the other four,
the other four.
A day in here is as a year,
full of fear,
oh shed a tear.
A night down tight is an awful fright,
from walls that bite,
to dimmest light.
And oh now look this final treat,
new friends to meet,
so stand and greet…
the other four,
the other four,
the other four.
Just then the bricks along the far wall broke
apart revealing four more cells. Inside each one sat
a corpse. The bodies were clearly once young girls,
either wearing decaying nightgowns or rotting party
dresses. Anne Mai turned green and doubled over
with distress. With a final cackle, the bricks
reformed the wall and returned to lifeless masonry.
Anne Mai could not stop her limbs from
trembling. She imagined she had taken ill and was
72

The Dungeon
suffering feverish delusions. Maybe her family stood
over her right now as she lay in a sickbed
somewhere.
“Don’t be afraid to cry,” a new voice called out
in the darkness. “Just stay in the middle of the floor
and they can’t hurt you.” Anne Mai covered her
ears. “Won’t you tell me your name?” the speaker
asked kindly.
Anne Mai raised her head slowly and parted
her long bangs. Again, one of the bricks in the wall
sat staring at her. Its face had Asiatic eyes like the
others, but its features looked smooth and gentle.
“M, m, my name’s Anne Mai Lee. W, w, what’s
yours?” the teen inquired trying to sound friendly.
“That’s beautiful. Very fitting for you,” the
brick complimented her. “I am called Ping.”
“Ping,” Anne Mai repeated. “It’s good to meet
you.” The prisoner gazed around at her filthy
confinements once again. “Will you tell me where I
am please, and who did this to me?”
“You are in the cellblock,” Ping answered
solemnly, “and you’re a prisoner of my master… I’m
sorry to say.”
“And who is your master?” Anne Mai wanted to
know. But the brick hesitated. “Please,” she
pleaded.
“My master is the Gold Dragon of Hong Kong,”
the tiny face confessed fearfully.
“Gold Dragon of Hong Kong,” Anne Mai
whispered. It must be the title of some criminal, she
thought. On the other hand she was talking to a
brick – a dragon might not be so impossible after
all. “Can you help me escape from here, Ping?”
“I can jump out of the wall and create you a
hole,” Ping answered. “But you are so big, and I am
so small; you’d have to be a mouse to fit through.”
73

Chapter 8
Anne Mai cradled her knees and rocked back
and forth. “There must be a way,” she said, gritting
her teeth. “I noticed those bars on the door are
fairly wide. I may be able to squeeze through.”
“Don’t,” Ping advised gravely. “Bricks are not
the only things enchanted in here. That’s Lockjaw.
He spreads his bars open to tempt you, but get too
near and he’ll swallow you whole.”
A long slender tongue hissed out of the
keyhole. Anne Mai shook her head. Everything was
topsy-turvy in this place; all that should be alive was
dead, and all that should be dead was alive.
Suddenly, the sound of heavy metal hinges
creaked open down the passageway and the jail
filled with the clatter of hoof beats as though a
stallion were galloping up.
“Shh,” hushed Ping. “Pretend you’re asleep.
It’s Rammus.” Ping’s face then disappeared into the
brickwork. Anne Mai lay motionless. Out of the
shadows emerged a Siamese cat swishing a charcoal
tail. Fixing its yellow eyes on the prisoner, the feline
stopped at her cell.
“No one sleeps panting that hard,” Rammus
said in a deep timbre. “Get up.” But Anne Mai did
not dare. The animal muttered an incantation under
its whiskers and a cauldron appeared out of thin air,
materializing right in front of the girl. Inside sat a
thick soupy gruel. “This is to keep you alive,” the cat
instructed. “My master clearly thinks more of you
than the others. They all got fish bones.”
Anne Mai felt famished, but she forced herself
to stay still nonetheless. “Shall we sing her another
love song, Rammus?” some of the sinister bricks
cackled from the shadows.
“No,” Rammus said, grooming his ears. “But
before I leave you, young lady, my master needs
74

The Dungeon
something of yours. LOCKJAW!” he commanded,
and the jail door swung open.
The girl watched four paws strut up to her
with a CLIP-CLOP – CLIP-CLOP. YUCK, she thought.
The feline stunk like a team of horses after a hot
day’s ride. Rammus reached for her throat with his
claws extended.
“NO!” the teenager screamed, spinning away.
Rammus scowled and raised his voice in
another magical chant. Anne Mai’s gold pendant
began dangling around her neck as if it were
magnetized. The chain then snapped and shot
around the cat’s long neck. Rammus turned and
trotted out calmly as Lockjaw swung shut.
“Wait!” Anne Mai cried out. “That was a
birthday present from my mother!”
The animal stopped in its tracks and looked
back at the prisoner pitifully. “Precisely.” Rammus
winked and then left.
Anne Mai rolled over and squeezed her
forehead, her mind spinning and throbbing.
After a few minutes Ping reemerged. “I forgot.
We must seem as strange to you as you are to us,”
the brick said gently.
“Yeah. Cats don’t talk where I come from,”
Anne Mai responded almost bemused.
“Rammus is no cat,” Ping assured her. “Didn’t
you see his shadow when he passed by the
torchlight? He’s my master’s guardian.”
“He certainly looks like a cat,” the girl replied,
examining her pot of food. “Though he does walk a
bit like a horse, and he stinks really bad,” she
confessed.
“His cat form is just a disguise. His true form
would not fit in around most people.” Ping smiled
knowingly.
75

Chapter 8
Anne Mai shook her head with confusion.
“I’m sorry. I’ll let you eat now. Then try and
sleep if you can,” the brick advised and then
vanished back into the wall.
Anne Mai wondered when all this would end,
or if it would end. If she ever did make it back home
who would believe what she saw? Her mother used
to tell her ancient tales of Chinese mysticism to get
her to go to bed. It seemed that all those legends
must be true, and wasn’t it strange that now they
would be the things that kept her awake?
76

Chapter 9
SHANGHAIED
The next morning the South China Sea lay as
blue as the skies overhead. However, a grumpy
storm brewed out west. Lineus Leung buttoned up
his jacket as he stepped onto the Wu Wei Dockyard.
Hundreds of dockworkers were busy offloading
freight from three massive cargo-ships anchored in
port. The tiny accountant looked around, armed
with a megaphone, a clipboard, and a pencil in his
ear. He then let loose with a siren that halted all the
work.
“All you men can take a rest now,” Lineus
hollered into his bullhorn.
At once an unruly outcry broke loose, many of
the workers complaining that they had schedules to
meet if they were to get paid. Others cussed and
called out foul names (something similar to a Bean
Counter in English). Eventually, though, the docks
did clear.
Lineus pulled out his clipboard and walked
over to the first ship, named Quechuan (meaning the
coward boat). Its colossal bay doors were standing
open like the mouth of a great cave. The accountant
disappeared inside the hull just as the last shift-boss
77

Chapter 9
walked out.
“Hey, don’t you have machine? Count all this
stuff fast?” the shift-boss asked swabbing his
forehead.
Lineus smiled without looking up from his
spreadsheets. “I’ve all I need right here,” he said
pointing to his pencil.
“BAH!” the dockworker cursed, and left Lineus
standing alone. The dark bowels of the ship creaked
and rumbled, swaying ever so often from side to
side. The accountant popped on a penlight and
began scanning numbers along the aisles of crates,
pacing some hundred yards into the dank interior.
“Well, this is going to take some time,” he
counseled himself, and began counting. “W.W.
000,001 – legal pads. W.W. 000,002 – toner ink.”
The man slapped the side of each crate as he passed
by. “W.W. 000,003 – fax paper. W.W. 000,004…”
Some hours later, the accountant’s smallish
figure stood nearly a quarter-mile deep into the
ship’s hold, still counting.
“W.W. 129,575 – metal filing cabinet. WHEW!”
Lineus was sweating profusely. Wearily, he looked
up. From this distance the cargo-bay doors were
only a thin slit of light near the bow.
Suddenly, Lineus felt a snorting breath hit his
ear. The man jumped back, knocked over several
hefty crates, and crashed to his fanny. A pitterpatter
of hooves echoed around the hull. Lineus
panted like mad; every dark crevice glared back at
him. Just then the ship growled and the cargo-doors
broke wide apart. Beams of sunshine poured in as
the vast shadow of a man stood hunched over his
cane.
“Did you find our little problem?” Uncle Shang
Sin inquired in a booming voice.
78

Shanghaied
“Not yet,” the accountant replied.
“Well, why are you just sitting there on the
floor?” his boss mused.
Lineus stood up, dusted himself off, and
began walking towards the man’s looming
silhouette.
“Sir,” Lineus answered with a touch of
embarrassment. “I can’t figure out what’s going on
here. But I can tell you this, as of this minute, if the
Wu Wei Trading Center were to get audited, we’d all
go to jail.”
Uncle Shang Sin laughed at this notion. “Don’t
worry, Lineus,” he said. “The mainland isn’t going to
audit us. I can promise that much.”
“Mr. Lee, there’re packs of goons on
motorcycles lurking around your loading docks.”
“I hired them as extra security.”
“I have MY family’s name and integrity to
uphold,” Lineus protested, at last reaching his boss
face to face. “My father, and my father’s father,
were all islanders who…”
“YOU’RE WORRYING FOR NOTHING!” Uncle
Shang Sin barked loudly.
“You pay me to worry, Mr. Lee,” the
accountant insisted. “I’m going to Shanghai to
check our warehouses. If I find these irregularities
are happening there as well, I’ll be compelled to go
to the authorities, about the missing furniture and
the extra gold.”
The two men wrestled in each other’s gaze for
a moment.
“I think you should take the rest of the day
off,” Uncle Shang Sin advised, barring his employee
from leaving with his cane.
Lineus swallowed nervously. “If you’ve
nothing to hide then you’ve no reason to block me,
79

Chapter 9
Mr. Lee.”
A wildfire raged inside Uncle Shang Sin’s eyes,
but he slowly lowered his cane and allowed Lineus to
shuffle away.
By noon thunderheads had moved over the
sky leaving the Chens’ sea-house in shadows.
Inside, the men sat around a pot of tea they had
been nursing since dawn. The living room had been
converted overnight into Command Central, shifts of
policemen routinely checking in to report their
findings to Chief Hsing. Sadly the news never
changed. Anne Mai was gone without a trace.
“Is there no lead we can pursue?” Mr. Lee
finally spoke, burying his fingers into his forehead.
Detective Mag shot a sideways glance at his
boss, but the Chief only stirred his teacup in silence.
Grandpa Chen fell into a sigh.
Abruptly, a cell phone rang. Chief Hsing
snapped up the call from his waist. “Hello. Yes. I
see. Just now it came in. Fine.” The old man closed
up his phone while Mr. Lee twisted the tablecloth
between his fingertips.
“Hsing?” Henry’s father blurted out restlessly.
“We just got an anonymous tip,” the Chief said
rising to his feet and plopping on his shabby brown
hat. “We should go.”
A stream of police cruisers went wailing down
the highway towards the Hong Kong Harbor.
In the first car, Chief Hsing loaded his revolver
and strapped on a bulletproof vest. “Informant said
our suspect hopped a hydrofoil to the mainland,” he
shouted at Detective Mag. “That means we need to
nab him before he leaves our waters.”
“You’ve got the boats for it. Right?” Mr. Lee
80

Shanghaied
questioned nervously.
Chief Hsing holstered his sidearm and looked
up at the panicky father. “Sure, we’ve got the
boats.” The old man nodded with a note of caution.
The cavalcade arrived in a screech of rubber
tires. Twelve sets of doors sprung open as one and
the Hong Kong Police Department sprinted out. But
as all the officers and men reached the boat launch a
squadron of rifles surrounded them. The Chinese
Navy had barricaded the police checkpoint. A
lieutenant came out wearing trim white gloves. It
was Kang.
“You need Mr. Lee’s authorization to pass
here,” he demanded.
“I am Mr. Lee!” Henry’s father exploded
wrathfully. “Authorize me!”
“I need the other Mr. Lee this time,” Lieutenant
Kang answered back with a smirk. “Your brother’s
at lunch right now. When he gets back we’ll see.”
“How long?!” Mr. Lee demanded through
grinding teeth.
“Don’t know. An hour. Two maybe,” Kang
retorted.
Grandpa Chen restrained his son-in-law before
he could swing at the lieutenant’s head.
“Our suspect will be out of our waters by
then,” Detective Mag grumbled sullenly.
“Listen,” Chief Hsing addressed the navy
brigade. “You men are impeding a police
investigation. This is our department’s launch. Now
clear the way.”
“Not without a permit!” Lieutenant Kang
snarled as his men cocked their weapons.
Mag subtly unbuttoned his holster. The
standoff was now teetering on the verge of a
shootout.
81

Chapter 9
“STOP IT!” Grandpa Chen cried out waving his
arms. “Come with me, Chief Inspector. I know
who’ll help us.”
Chief Hsing exhaled an uneasy breath and
called off his officers. As the men retreated back up
the plank, the naval troopers all scoffed and spit at
them, pretending to fire rifles into their backs.
Atop the marina the police officers
complained loudly, banging the hoods of their squad
cars.
“All right. What do you have?” Chief Hsing
asked pointedly.
“Them.” Grandpa Chen gestured up the way
to a motley crew of ruffians. “I know those men,” he
said. “Used to be fishermen. Been out of work for
some time. But I’ll need something to pay them
with.” The Chief surveyed the mob doubtfully.
“What’s the point?” he replied. “Even if they
crash the gate for us, we won’t get past the Navy
gunboats.”
“Trust me,” Grandpa Chen assured. “If you
and your men can get to YOUR boats, I’ll take care of
those Navy gunners.”
Chief Hsing scrutinized Grandpa Chen from
head to toe. “Fine. Just don’t get this old man killed
before I can retire,” the Chief agreed. “But I don’t
have any cash – only some good cigars in the trunk.”
The old cop handed over some boxes of fragrant
tobacco.
“Rush the gates when you hear me whistle.”
Grandpa Chen winked. He then turned and walked
up the road towards the imposing Wu Wei Towers.
Mr. Lee squinted to see the dockside below.
Three armored gunboats with red stars blazing on
their bellies waited like sharks in the water.
“You stay in the car,” Chief Hsing ordered him.
82

Shanghaied
“I’m going!” Henry’s father refused.
Chief Hsing shuffled his bushy white
eyebrows, unaccustomed to people shirking his
orders (especially civilians).
The officers jogged back down to the police
checkpoint and hid behind some large buoys.
“Listen up now,” the Chief instructed all his
men. “You keep your guns holstered. I don’t want
any killing. Those men have families back on the
mainland.”
At that moment, Grandpa Chen set two fingers
between his lips and whistled at the top of his lungs.
Chief Hsing and his force leapt into action, smashing
into the Navy brigade. A bruising brawl of fists and
punches let fly. Young Detective Mag gave the
surest licks, clobbering Lieutenant Kang smack in
the face. Soon the tan-clad policemen pounded their
blue-suited rivals into submission.
The Chief ushered his men aboard two police
speedboats. Mag took the helm of the first vessel.
As soon as he started the engines a patrolman
turned and spotted them. The Navy guard shouted
wildly as the police boats revved out in front. In no
time the hefty gunboats were chopping in pursuit.
“Tin Hau, protect us!” Chief Hsing shouted,
looking back over his shoulder.
Three gunners targeted the police boats as
they blazed past the channel markers. The Navy
marksmen put their trigger-fingers in place and set
to unload. But before a shot fired a loud CRACK
exploded. The gunmen shrieked as a shadow
swallowed them from above. Like a broken catapult
the Wu Wei’s huge dragon banner collapsed and fell
into the sea, trapping the war boats directly
beneath. The tarp drifted into the channel and
clogged all access to the ocean.
83

Chapter 9
Chen and the fishermen roared on the marina
above, lighting cigars and hoisting axes into the air.
On the clear side of the waterway the police cheered
from the decks of their speedboats.
“Score one for Island Power, eh!” The Chief
waved his hat around in the air.
Detective Mag smiled and cut off two Wu Wei
ships as he sped into the horizon. Back at the jetty,
Lieutenant Kang rubbed his swollen eye and
slammed his helmet to the ground.
By two o’clock the police boats were deep at
sea. Chief Hsing held a pair of binoculars at
eyelevel, studying the hazy blue line beyond.
“Full speed ahead Detective Mag,” he ordered.
“I just spotted our hydrofoil.”
“Mai Mai?” Mr. Lee rose to his feet. “How far
are they, Chief?”
“In ten minutes they’ll be out of our
jurisdiction,” Chief Hsing answered. The speedboats
rocketed away at top velocity.
At the wheel of the hydrofoil sat a fat
unshaven man whistling a happy tune. He nipped at
a silver flask and gurgled into a hearty belch. Out of
nowhere two police vessels crisscrossed his path
with sirens and lights going berserk.
“HALT! Cut your engines by order of the Hong
Kong Police Department!” declared a booming voice.
The untidy captain complied and tossed his
jigger out a porthole. Within minutes the passenger
carrier slowed to a crawl in the water and the police
force quickly boarded.
Inside the dining area hostesses were serving
tea to the commuters. One server rolled her cart
alongside a man reading a newspaper.
“Coffee or tea sir?” she asked delightedly.
84

Shanghaied
“Tea,” replied Lineus Leung without looking up
from his paper. The little accountant was bound for
Shanghai and unaware his voyage had even been
interrupted.
“One lump or two?” asked Chief Hsing as he
flopped open his badge.
Lineus adjusted his bifocals and looked up
with a fright. At least a dozen men pointed pistols
at his head. Detective Mag leaned in and grabbed
the man.
“What’s going on here?” Lineus asked
trembling, as Detective Mag began frisking his
jacket.
“Chief Inspector, I’ve got something,” Mag
hollered as he carefully removed a gold chain from
the accountant’s lapel pocket.
Mr. Lee abruptly charged through the crowded
aisle. “That’s my daughter’s pendant!” he burst out.
Chief Hsing inspected the evidence with a
magnifying glass. Numerous minute names
appeared on the inside of the locket chain, but the
last read: Lee Anne Mai. The old cop slapped a pair
of handcuffs onto the accountant’s wrists.
“You like jewelry – how’s this?” the Chief
quipped.
85

Chapter 10
A THIEF IN THE NIGHT
Anne Mai’s back throbbed. She had been
sitting upright for nearly two days in the middle of a
hardened floor. The girl longed to prop herself
against one of the cell walls, but she didn’t dare risk
getting bitten again. All Anne Mai could do was sit
and wish for home; the sound of snoring bricks a
constant reminder she had never been farther away.
Ping yawned and blinked awake, now
appearing on the north wall, not the south. “Good
evening. Haven’t you slept today?” the brick asked.
“I know some pretty songs. Do you want me to sing
one?”
Anne Mai shook her head glumly. “No. I’ve
already heard enough songs, Ping,” the teen
remarked rubbing her eyes. “So how come you’re
not like the other bricks in here? Aren’t they your
friends?”
Ping struggled with this question for a while.
“They are more than my friends,” he admitted.
“They are my family. But when my master’s soul
became poisoned, so, too, did theirs.”
“Yet you stayed the same?” Anne Mai
wondered.
86

A Thief in the Night
“We all make our choice whether to give up
hope or not,” Ping said looking at her seriously.
Anne Mai hid her eyes. “And uh, were you
their friend also?” she asked pointing to the other
side of the wall. “To those girls over there?”
“I tried to be,” Ping replied solemnly.
“Can you tell me who they were, Ping?”
“Daughters of rich men I think,” the little brick
murmured, then decided he had better change the
topic. “Well, did you come up with any ideas on how
to escape?”
Anne Mai again shook her head. “I wish I was
a mouse,” she imagined aloud.
“And where would you go if you were?”
“If I were I would swim down that stream,
follow it to the ocean, and then mouse-paddle away,”
Anne Mai said motioning towards some trickling
water outside her cell.
“But what if that water doesn’t lead to the
ocean?” Ping mused.
“Then I’d be in real trouble, wouldn’t I?” Anne
Mai laughed for the first time.
All of a sudden, the sound of metal hinges
squealed open down the corridor. The laughter died
immediately as marching hoof beats filled the jail. It
was Rammus. Anne Mai caught a glimpse of the
cat’s shadow in the torchlight. Ping was right. This
was no cat. The shadow looked like a gigantic
horned beast with a shaggy mane that walked
upright on two crooked legs.
Next, there came a second set of footfall and a
new figure emerged from the shadows. In lumbered
a large fat man in chains. The teen studied the
fellow through her jail door. He stood at least four
hundred pounds and was dressed in pearly robes.
87

Chapter 10
His hair was tied back in a slick ponytail, and he also
wore a leather eye patch over one eye.
“Wake up minions and form me a cell,”
commanded Rammus. At once the bricks obeyed,
assembling a new cell next to Anne Mai’s. “Get in,
thief,” the Siamese cat growled. The prisoner’s
shackles sprung to life like pythons and dragged
him inside by his ankles. “This is what happens to
gold burglars,” Rammus declared as the chains
slithered away. “Irontooth, lock him in tight!”
A jail door slammed shut in the fat man’s face.
Rammus then strode confidently over to Anne Mai.
With a grunt her empty kettle refilled with gruel.
“Hey! Cat! Where’s my stew at?” the new
prisoner whined.
“Don’t worry yourself. You aren’t scheduled
for too much starvation,” Rammus guaranteed. “My
master’s going to skin you alive in the morning.
And by the looks of you, that’ll take some time.”
“Hey kitty,” the thief heckled again. “You
come here and I’ll eat you for dinner.”
The cat’s hair bristled. “Oh really? Let’s just
see what I can cook you up then,” Rammus retorted,
and snorted his nostrils. Thick black smoke filled
the jail like volcanic ash, causing everyone to hack
and cough. It took several minutes for the smoke to
clear, at which time Rammus disappeared and the
bricks broke into song.
You’ll soon have your issues,
living without your tissues.
Oh how will you ever hustle,
without any muscle.
I’ll bet you’ll look just like an arrow,
88

A Thief in the Night
when you’re drained of all your marrow.
Oh won’t you feel so homey,
all dangling and bony.
The fat man gnashed his teeth resentfully.
This place keeps getting stranger and stranger,
Anne Mai thought. She covered her ears and forced
herself to fall asleep, cruel song lyrics chanting in
her mind like some nightmarish lullaby.
At midnight, Anne Mai awoke to a ruckus. It
was her new neighbor tossing about and muttering.
All the bricks had already gone back to sleep except
for one. Ping. He was watching the man closely in
the dark.
“I’ve never seen anyone like this character
before,” the brick whispered. “Earlier I saw a strange
light shooting out of his eye. But he stopped as
soon as he saw me watching him.”
“Why do you suppose he keeps talking to
himself?” Anne Mai pondered.
“Maybe he’s a madman. Nevertheless, this is
the last place he should have come looking to steal,”
Ping assured. “Rammus could track a dust mite in
this lair. Common thieves don’t stand a chance.”
“Psst,” the newest prisoner eagerly called from
his cell. “Psst. Little brick. If you help me escape I’ll
get you a pebble to play with,” the man offered
enticingly.
Ping’s face turned upside down. “If I could
free anyone it would be Anne Mai,” he scolded. “And
if she can’t fit through a brick hole you certainly
won’t.”
89

Chapter 10
The fat thief cackled in the shadows. “Well, I
don’t know about that peasant girl, but a small hole
is all I need.”
“You look a spot plump to be a contortionist.”
Ping giggled at him.
With that, the large man leaned forward and
removed his eye patch. Instead of an eyeball there
sat a polished green orb hiding inside the socket.
He plucked the thing out. Instantaneously his fatty
body withered into saggy blankets of flesh.
The prisoner stood up. He was now rail-thin
and appeared to have aged a lifetime. His once
black hairs were matted and white; his once pearly
robes a worn death shroud. Anne Mai’s mouth fell
agape as the bony old fellow grinned at her through
jagged teeth.
“Now let me prove it to you,” he screeched.
“Move aside little brick and I’ll squeeze into her cell.”
“You think I’m going to let you in here with
Anne Mai?” Ping scoffed.
“No, it’s all right. I want him to try,” Anne Mai
interjected. “If he can get out he could tell my family
where I am.”
“Yes, of course,” the aged one rubbed his bony
hands together. “But of course I could do that.”
Ping reluctantly jumped out of the wall,
landing on two bitty legs. A decrepit hand then
popped through the open hole. Next, a shoulder, a
head, a torso, and at last an entire body wormed and
wiggled into Anne Mai’s cell. The thief now
stretched out some seven feet tall.
“Ha ha! I told you!” he shouted brashly.
“Quiet. You fool,” Ping hushed and shushed.
“These walls have ears. Literally.”
“Who are you, Mister?” Anne Mai marveled.
“Can you teach me to do that?”
90

A Thief in the Night
“Sure. Though, it’ll take you a lifetime to
perfect it,” the lanky figure shrilled loudly, causing
the other bricks to stir.
“Get back into your jail before anyone sees
you,” Ping demanded.
The old man scrabbled back through the stone
hole where he had come from and the little brick
refilled the wall.
“Okay.” Ping cleared his throat. “If I set you
free will you help Anne Mai?”
The thief’s one good eye propped wide open.
“Oh, I promise. I promise.” He clutched his heart. “I
shall return with bowmen, and spearmen, and
swordsmen atop steeds all to save this beautiful
young girl. It will be exciting! Come, let’s hurry!”
“Raising an army will take months – possibly
years,” the brick reacted suspiciously. “Trust me,
she doesn’t have that kind of time. All you need to
do is take a note to her family and then lead the
help back here.”
“Back here? To the dragon’s lair?” The aged
mongrel blinked a few times in disbelief.
“You’ve heard of this dragon?” Anne Mai asked
curiously.
Her neighbor snickered knowingly. “But of
course,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Very well. Let’s
have the note.”
A fearful grimace suddenly overtook Anne Mai.
She had nothing with which to write a message (or
much less anything to write it on). The girl looked
around desperately. “Wait a second,” she said
holding the trim of her nightgown. “I can use this.”
She tore off the hem in a perfect ribbon.
“Excellent!” Ping yipped. “And I can help you
with the writing.” The brick again hopped out of the
91

Chapter 10
wall. He then rubbed his blocky head against the
fabric, leaving a streak of red dust.
Anne Mai smiled happily.
“I know some Chinese letters,” Ping continued.
“But I think the message had better be in your
handwriting.”
“Me too,” the teen agreed. “But what should I
say?”
“Hmm.” Ping rubbed his face with tiny little
hands. “Write your name. Tell your family you’ve
been abducted and that this man is going to lead
them to you.”
Anne Mai wrote the note carefully and set Ping
back onto the ground. The two then looked at one
another in the silence, together realizing the flaw in
their plan. How could they trust this stranger to
deliver the note once freed?
The thief’s eyeball held fixed inside the empty
space in the wall, staring at the two from his cell.
“All set, my friends? Let’s not waste any more time,”
he said rapping his fingers impatiently.
“Yes. We’re ready.” Ping winked at Anne Mai.
“Now, remember our deal, Mister. You take this
note to wherever she tells you. Then lead the
rescuers back here.”
“As surely as night follows day,” the old man
vowed. “Now open a hole on that far wall and I’ll be
off.”
“No more than a day – at most two if you run
into any troubles,” Ping warned with a small wagging
finger.
“Positively,” the thief promised.
“Great. Now just give us that green jewel
there and you’ll be on your way,” the brick added.
The prisoner’s aged face curdled with outrage.
“What?” he asked sinisterly.
92

A Thief in the Night
“You know, as a token of your vow to return,”
Ping clarified. “I’m sure it’s worth a fortune, and I
know you’ll want to come back and collect it.”
The thief recoiled into the shadows clutching
his gem. “Conniving pilferers.” he spat furiously. “I
see now this was all a ploy to get my pearl. You
peasants will have to pry it from my cold dead skull
first!”
“Well, sir,” Ping persisted. “I expect that’s
exactly what’ll happen tomorrow morning. I’m sure
my master will just cast it into a gold crown or
something. Whatever. I’m sorry we couldn’t strike a
bargain.”
“No, no, no. You don’t understand,” the old
man sniveled pathetically. “Without my pearl I grow
sick and die. Then who’s going to take that letter,
hey?”
“All the more reason for you to hurry back
here and retrieve it.” Ping smirked cleverly.
A pale hue fell over the prisoner’s face. He
knew he had no choice, but to part with his jewel
seemed agony for him. Slowly he reached a hand
through the wall and dropped the gemstone onto
the other side. “If either of you does anything to my
eye,” the thief gasped with fury, “I’ll murder you
both! I swear it!”
“I’m not a robber, Mister,” Anne Mai said as
she scooped the pearl into her hands.
“Glad to hear it!” The man leered at her vilely.
“Now give me the message and tell me where I’m
going! QUICK!”
The teen stuffed the hem of her nightgown
inside the hole, where it got snatched up hastily.
“1616 Harbor Boulevard,” Anne Mai answered him.
“Hong Kong.”
93

Chapter 10
Ping then vanished into the brickwork, only to
reappear seconds later on the west wall of the old
man’s cell. The brick hopped out creating a perfect
hole into the corridor beyond. Like a rat the thief
slithered through the tiny opening and escaped to
freedom.
Once in the passageway the lanky figure
turned to stare at Anne Mai one more time.
Inexplicably, the pearl lit up like a hot coal in her
hands. The man then slinked off into the shadows.
Ping quickly returned to his spot. “This is
surely good luck,” the brick assured her. “You’ll
soon be back with your family. You’ll see. Hope
never disappoints a glad heart.”
But the girl was too busy examining the pearl
to listen. She could see why the man valued this
jewel so highly; there was something rare in the way
it lustered and sparkled.
“Anne Mai, can you hear me?”
“Yes, Ping,” Anne Mai answered after a pause.
“Try and rest easy tonight, and sleep in good
dreams if you can,” Ping encouraged her.
Anne Mai placed her head down to rest but
her eyes stayed open, fixed on the glowing green
treasure.
94

Chapter 11
KNOCK, KNOCK
Lineus Leung mopped sweat off his brow and
readjusted his rectangular spectacles. For ten
straight hours he had been sitting in an
interrogation room in the downtown Hong Kong
police station. The man looked at the silver
handcuffs around his wrists and at the photos of
Anne Mai lying open on the table. He desperately
wanted to call his wife and tell her what had
happened, but how could he explain this?
Just then the door to the narrow empty room
opened and Chief Hsing and Detective Mag returned
with another round of questions.
“Where’s Lee Anne Mai?” Chief Hsing
demanded, setting down a piping hot cup of tea in
front of the accused.
Lineus trembled and stroked his face. “I don’t
know Inspector,” he panted. “I don’t even know why
I’m here. I’m operations accountant for the Wu Wei
Center, not a kidnapper.”
The Chief crouched onto the edge of the table
with a determined gleam in his eyes. “Let me see if I
can help you out here,” he said patting the
accountant on the shoulder. “You go to work the
95

Chapter 11
other day. You see your boss’s brother. You’ve
heard he’s a wealthy Taipan from America and that’s
when you hatch the idea to kidnap and ransom his
daughter.”
“NO! NO! NO!” Lineus decried.
“So you deny seeing Mr. Lee at all?” Chief
Hsing sharpened his gaze like an owl in the night.
“Yes. I mean no. I mean I didn’t kidnap his
daughter and I don’t know who did.”
“But you’re one of the only people who even
knew Mr. Lee and his family were on the island,”
Detective Mag spoke up from the corner, his arms
crossed powerfully.
“And how do you explain this?” the old Chief
set Anne Mai’s gold necklace on the table in a clear
evidence baggie. “It was found in your pocket on its
way to Shanghai.”
“That’s somebody else’s!” Lineus retorted,
swabbing his damp forehead. By now the spotlights
and stress had left him with a splitting headache.
“It’s not mine!”
“That’s the whole point, isn’t it?” Chief Hsing
fired back. “This is the missing girl’s pendant, which
was recovered on your person. So the only question
left is what did you do with her?”
“I told you already, I’ve never even met this
girl.” The accountant dropped his face into his
hands.
“Then where’d you get the necklace?! Who
gave it to you?!” Detective Mag exploded.
Lineus would not say another word. The two
cops huddled in the corner. Chief Hsing looked over
his shoulder at a long rectangular mirror on the wall.
Behind the glass, Anne Mai’s father impatiently
tapped a cell phone on his chin.
96

Knock, Knock
After a few minutes the Inspector declared
loudly, “Detective Mag, get Officer Chiang to book
this liar on possession of stolen goods,” and the two
policemen left the room, slamming the door closed
behind them.
They shortly rejoined Mr. Lee in the
observation area. “Mag,” Chief Hsing grumbled
under his breath. “Forget what I said. Get Chiang to
bring that poor devil some breakfast instead.”
“Chief Inspector,” Mag interjected hotly. “Let
me go after him for two more hours. I promise he’ll
give up her whereabouts.”
“No,” his boss replied. “I have another job for
you. Go search the department’s phone records for
that call.”
“The anonymous tip, sir?” the young detective
raised his eyebrows.
“That’s right. I want to know where that call
came from and who made it.”
“You think he’s telling the truth, Inspector?”
Mag asked.
“I just don’t want to go chasing up the wrong
tree again. This time let the hounds sniff out all the
trees. You know, a fox hunt, it’s a British sport.”
Chief Hsing smiled.
“Finding that call will take some time, sir.”
“That’s why you’re going to be the Chief of
Police someday, Mag.” He patted his junior officer
on the shoulder.
“Can I get that in writing, Chief?” Detective
Mag joked.
Chief Hsing shooed Mag away with his thumb,
and then went and sat down next to the figure
slumped in the corner.
97

Chapter 11
“So, what’re we going to do with him?” Mr. Lee
asked, never breaking eye contact with Lineus Leung
in the next room.
“Well,” Chief Hsing answered tiredly, “we’re
going to process him openly as our primary suspect.
But for now I say we go home.”
“Home!” the father shot back fiercely. “This
guy stole my daughter! I’m not going anywhere
until he gives her back!”
“Maybe. Maybe not,” Chief Hsing spoke
calmly.
“He’s got her pendant, Chief. What more do
you need?”
“If it’s one thing police work has taught me,
Mr. Lee, it’s that first appearances can be deceiving.
I knew this man’s father and his grandfather.
They’re good people. Come on. We could both use
some sleep.”
The former Taipan felt powerless for the first
time in his life. Begrudgingly, Mr. Lee agreed to
depart with the Inspector, and a police cruiser
picked up the two on a blustery corner out front of
the station.
By late evening a full storm kicked violet bolts
of lightning around the sky. Inside the Chens’ seahouse,
Mr. Lee and Chief Hsing waited at the kitchen
table, neither having been able to nap for more than
thirty minutes apiece. Occasionally a shift
commander would plod in from the rain, but the
news continued to be fruitless.
Mr. Lee leaned back in his chair and pictured
his daughter in his mind. Suddenly someone
pinched his arm, startling him awake. It was his
son.
98

Knock, Knock
“Papa,” Henry said. All the men in the room
looked up from what they were doing. “Is there
anything I can do to help you find Mai Mai any
faster?”
Mr. Lee forced a smile through his grief and
plopped Henry onto his lap.
“Mr. Lee,” Peter also stepped into the light.
“I’d like to help out, too.”
Since his daughter’s abduction the man had
almost entirely forgotten about the boys. They
seemed to be holding up well, though, Mr. Lee
imagined they wanted to go home. But if he did that
the father would have to explain why the trip had
been cut short (and perhaps admit to himself that he
might never see his eldest child again).
“Come on. Let us help you guys out,” Walsh
offered looking around. “We can reload guns, make
smart bombs, whatever you officers need.”
Even the gruff old Chief had to grin as he
kneaded his bald head. “You looking to do
something?” Chief Hsing kindly waved them over.
“Sir, yes sir!” Peter and Walsh ran up and
saluted affirmatively.
“All right,” the Chief continued. “You see all
these walkie-talkies on the table? All these carry the
chatter between shift commanders. I need you lads
to listen for anyone saying, H.Q.”
“Does that mean headquarters, sir?” Peter
wondered energetically.
“No. Those are my initials,” Chief Hsing
corrected. “Anytime you hear H.Q. – run that walkietalkie
over to me. Hear?”
The children nodded and quickly manned their
posts. Chief Hsing winked at Mr. Lee, then strode
over to the window and looked out at the ocean.
Henry’s father watched the Inspector and rubbed his
99

Chapter 11
chin thoughtfully. After a few minutes he walked
over and joined the Chief.
“I appreciate what you did at the harbor
yesterday,” Mr. Lee began. “And for all that you’re
doing for my daughter. I know this is expensive for
the department. I will reimburse any cost in finding
her, and grant bonuses for you and your men.”
Chief Hsing only patted him on the shoulder
and resumed sipping his tea.
“I’ve been wrong about you, Chief,” Mr. Lee
continued. “And also about my brother.”
At this mention the Chief froze, his face
pickling with a kind of remorse. “There’s something
you need to know,” Chief Hsing murmured
regretfully. “The other four Taipans have all tried to
come back to Hong Kong and challenge your
brother. They all came with their families, too. Each
of them ended up leaving the island broken men –
or worse. At the time I supported their decision to
stay here, like you, to help me search for their
daughters. I never found a single one of them.”
Mr. Lee looked up curiously at the elderly
gent. Then a sinking pain ripped through the man
like a fever. “What are you suggesting, sir?” Mr. Lee
reacted by banging a fist into his palm. “That my
brother kidnapped these children and Anne Mai?”
“No. Of course not,” the Chief clarified. “I’m
just saying that maybe you should follow the ransom
demands. I’m saying that I now believe money
won’t bring her back. It didn’t with the others. But
leaving the island might, before it’s too late.”
In that instant a loud metallic KNOCK, KNOCK
sounded at the door. “I’ll get it,” Walsh jumped up
happily to answer the call.
“NO DON’T!” all the officers screamed.
100

Knock, Knock
But it was too late. Walsh threw open the door
just as a whip crack of lightning flashed through the
entryway. Rainwater poured down in sheets and a
golden cane emerged from the darkness.
“Shang Sin?” Mr. Lee looked disbelievingly.
Uncle Shang Sin removed a heavy raincoat and
walked over to his brother. Talo entered next
carrying two sopping suitcases at his side. “Brother,
how could you not tell me what happened?” Uncle
Shang Sin asked in a wounded tone.
“You know about Anne Mai? How? I don’t
understand. How did you even know I was here?”
Mr. Lee questioned distrustfully.
“I have my sources,” Uncle Shang Sin assured.
“But this I would have preferred to hear from family.
Did you really think I would refuse to help because
of a feud? You need only lower your pride for once
and ask. All my resources are at your disposal.”
“I’d take your brother up on his offer,” Chief
Hsing advised.
“Good evening, Chief. I didn’t see you hiding
there.” Uncle Shang Sin extended his arm for a
handshake, but the Chief stuffed his hands into his
pockets.
“I could use your help,” Mr. Lee confessed
slowly.
“Of course,” Uncle Shang Sin nodded. “Now,
come back to the palace. We’ll get this all sorted
out.”
At that moment, Henry’s mother entered the
room and stood at her husband’s side. “No,” Mr. Lee
said looking down at his wife. “I can’t go back with
you. I have to stay here. But I could still use your
help.”
Uncle Shang Sin appeared to shake a bit but
broke out smiling. “That’s fine,” he said clutching
101

Chapter 11
his cane. “Well at least let me leave Talo behind to
protect the other children while you’re here.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Mr. Lee shook his twin
brother’s hand gratefully.
“Talo, protect these little ones at all cost,” his
master instructed.
The strongman nodded and stepped forward
with his dripping suitcases, immediately smiling at
Petey. Peter’s lips quivered over his braces.
“Talo is the least I can do,” Uncle Shang Sin
added. “But now onto more pressing business. Has
there been any word from these kidnappers?”
“Yes. There has been,” Chief Hsing spoke up.
“There was a note, in gold no less, instructing that
they return to the States and wait for demands.”
“Hmm. I see.” Uncle Shang Sin rubbed his
chin with his index finger. “I think you should follow
the note’s instructions, Ming Xa. If you return home
it will buy time. I’ll be your eyes and ears on the
island. I’ll find your daughter.”
The house waited quietly for a decision from
Mr. Lee, but turmoil churned inside the man’s mind.
It was impossible to know what to do next. To stay
or go – neither choice could guarantee Anne Mai’s
safe return.
KNOCK, KNOCK! Again the door rattled and
again Walsh hopped up to answer it. “I’ll get it,” he
chirped cheerfully.
“NO!” the officers hollered, lunging to block
him.
But once more the boy succeeded in throwing
the door wide open. This time a dark lanky figure
loomed inside the entryway.
“Good evening peasants!” the stranger
declared. He stood nearly seven plus feet tall and
wore a wide-brimmed bamboo hat that concealed his
102

Knock, Knock
face. It looked as if the man had just been
swimming, too, his ragged robes dripping in
seawater that pooled at his feet. Indeed, the fellow
even pulled out pocketfuls of live wriggling fish and
handed them to Walsh. “Hold these for me, would
you boy?”
“Yuck.” Walsh plugged his nose.
The gangly chap smirked and sauntered
inside. All attention sucked to the middle of the
room where he stood. “All right. Let’s see now,” the
man gurgled. “I’ll need to be speaking with the
family of a young girl.”
“Oh? What’s this girl’s name, Mister?” Chief
Hsing coolly inquired, a hand slipping down to his
holster belt.
The stranger pulled out a damp string of
fabric and attempted to read from it. “Uh oh. It
seems water may have smudged it,” he fretted.
“ANTS – MITES – LICE. Anyone here know her?”
Nobody said anything, but a ring of policemen
started to press in around him.
“Okay fine. Let me try again,” he continued
hurriedly. “ANNE – MAI - LEE!”
“FREEZE!” every cop in the house cried out as
one.
Before anyone could even blink, some twenty
pistols had taken aim at the suspect.
“Chill your bones!” the old man fretted. “I’m
here to take you to her!”
“Oh, you’re going to take us to her, pal. Put
your hands behind your back. Now!” one officer
commanded, approaching him with a set of
handcuffs.
Henry’s mom suddenly lost control. “Is she
safe?” Mrs. Lee exclaimed, running out into the
open.
103

Chapter 11
“Safe?” The lanky character crinkled his nose.
“Well, I suppose she’s safe as any teenage girl locked
in a dungeon can be.”
“GET HIM!” a chorus of police shouted as they
rushed into the middle of the room.
Mrs. Lee got thrown clear as a mêlée broke
out. When the heap settled, the whiny complainer
had been captured in a pair of silver restraints. But
before anyone could bring him forward… SLAP –
TWIST – SHIFT! The suspect stood a free man (the
arresting officer locked in his own handcuffs).
“You peasants are ruining everything,” the
slippery trickster erupted angrily. “Just let me talk to
the girl’s family.”
“GO!” Chief Hsing roared as his squadron
pounced yet again.
This time the man was bound in several pairs
of handcuffs – two for his wrists and two for his
ankles. SMACK – SHUFFLE – BAM! Once more the
shackles could not hold him and eight policemen
now found themselves linked hand-and-foot.
The dark figure grew testy, removing his
bamboo hat and revealing his face for all to see.
Walsh, Peter, and Henry cringed at his wrinkly
features and ghastly eye patch. But Uncle Shang Sin
appeared unimpressed and snapped his fingers at
Talo.
The giant bodyguard seized the elderly
character in a powerful bear hug. Crowds of police
immediately piled on top for a third attempt at
capture. When he resurfaced, the intruder sat tied
inside a police vest. Surely he’ll never be able get
out of that, Henry mused to himself. SNAP – BEND –
POP! Amazingly, the old goof now balanced atop
Talo’s shoulders, mounds of cops tied beneath him.
104

Knock, Knock
“Everyone stop!” Chief Hsing shrieked. The
Chief had seen enough and cocked his revolver at
the grinning sneak. “Where’s the girl?”
“That’s simple,” the stranger explained. “She’s
with the Gold Dragon of Hong Kong in a nest where
the beast sleeps on a mountain of treasure.”
Uncle Shang Sin’s lip curled with anger.
“Get yourself down on the floor. You’re under
arrest,” Chief Hsing instructed with a finger.
“Who do you think you are, peasant, ordering
me around like that? I’m not some mangy dog.”
The two old men locked gazes, each daring
the other to flinch. Every passing second added
heat to the standoff, like logs into an inferno.
Suddenly the front door flung open and Grandma
and Grandpa Chen strolled in carrying dinner.
Grandpa Chen dropped the ducks in his hand and
pulled his wife to safety. KABLAM! A bottle of stinky
smoke exploded on the floor and the house erupted
into a shouting chaos.
Chief Hsing dove after the suspected
kidnapper, but came up empty. Pushing through a
tangle of bodies, the Chief saw a dark cloak
scurrying towards the corner. He caught a gawky
white limb just as it tried slithering out a vent in the
wall.
“I said you’re under arrest!” Chief Hsing
grunted, wrestling the appendage back inside. But
the leg withered like a wet leaf and slipped through
his fingers. The Chief could not believe it. He
stared at his hands with confusion, brushing smoke
away from his eyes.
Within minutes two divisions of police boots
and flashlights were combing the neighborhood, but
without any luck. As quickly as the intruder had
appeared, he had vanished into the night.
105

Chapter 12
THE HEART OF THE LAIR
The next morning, Ping and Anne Mai were
both in cheerful moods – smiling, telling jokes, and
even playing tic-tac-toe on the cellblock floor. Hope
shone across Anne Mai’s face as she cradled the
green pearl between her fingers. In her mind the
teen imagined the note being delivered to her father
and an army of rescuers racing to save her.
The tiny brick then started making faces,
pretending to talk in the old thief’s whiny voice.
First I’m fat and then I’m thin,
look at me I’ve got eight chins.
I bend and crawl and call you peasant,
some might say I’m not too pleasant.
First I’m young and then I’m old,
stupid me I stole some gold.
I spit and curse with one good eye,
cause I lost one to Anne Mai.
106

The Heart of the Lair
Anne Mai held her sides to keep from laughing
out loud. “Ping, you’re the best,” she amused.
“What if I take you home with me?” Ping shook his
head.
“I don’t want to be away from my family any
more than you do,” he replied.
Anne Mai straightened up upon hearing this.
But before she could utter another word, one of the
other bricks sneezed loudly and awoke with a snort.
“Eh? What? What’s this? Where’s the other
prisoner?” the ugly little face snarled upon seeing
the empty cell next to Anne Mai’s.
At that moment another brick woke, then
another, and another, and soon the jail became a
shrieking riot. “A prisoner’s escaped! Oh woe is us!
A prisoner’s escaped!” They wailed and wailed.
Rammus charged inside the passageway.
“What’s this racket about?!” he demanded.
“Oh, Rammus! Run quick and tell the master!
A prisoner’s escaped us!” the bricks continued to
shrill.
Rammus examined the empty chamber
through razor-thin yellow eyes. “Someone will pay.
Someone will pay,” he hissed with fury. The cat’s
shadow grew large and bestial across the walls. “No
prisoner has ever escaped me, you imbeciles!
Speak! I want answers!”
“Oh, sir,” said the brick who had bitten Anne
Mai. “That fat man was here when we all went to
sleep last night. It couldn’t have been us bricks.”
“Yeah,” agreed another. “It must have been
Irontooth that done it.” The ugly little brick pointed
an accusatory finger towards the empty cell door.
“IRONTOOTH! IRONTOOTH’S TO BLAME!” all
the bricks began clamoring.
Ping sank back into the shadows afraid.
107

Chapter 12
“Well, Irontooth, you never were as reliable as
Lockjaw.” Rammus scowled. The metal door began
to rattle nervously on its hinges as the cat started
chanting into the air.
“AIIEEE!” Irontooth cried out painfully. With a
GARGLE – GARGLE – GLUG – GLUG, he melted into a
metallic puddle on the floor.
After this, Rammus leered suspiciously at all
the bricks. “Guards!” he roared and gave a short
whistle under his whiskers.
Anne Mai heard a heavy stomping and
clomping inside the passage; it sounded like
hammers falling on metal.
“Uh oh,” Ping whispered.
“What is that?” Anne Mai asked him.
“Skeleton Keys!”
Into the torchlight they came marching – six
foot tall, living skeleton keys. They carried shields
and spears, bows and swords, helmets and armor;
all of them polished as gold as the sun. Standing
ferociously at attention, the soldiers bowed.
“Stand lookout here,” Rammus ordered. “No
one is to come in or out.”
The guards nodded obediently and the jailer
turned to check on his last remaining prisoner.
Then, with a sharp stutter, the cat instantly caught
sight of Anne Mai’s missing hemline. The teen tried
to hide her nightgown between her knees but it was
too late.
“Lost something, did we?” Rammus snarled
baring his fangs. “You helped that fat thief ESCAPE!”
“Oh no, sir!” Ping panicked. “It wasn’t her…”
“LET ME IN, LOCKJAW!” Rammus demanded.
The jail door swung open and the cat stormed
inside the cell. Sharp black claws popped open in
front of Anne Mai.
108

The Heart of the Lair
“Run Anne Mai!” Ping shouted desperately as
the four-legged terror sprang at her face.
The girl ducked and Rammus went sailing
overhead, splattering hard onto the back wall. Anne
Mai broke past Lockjaw and sprinted into the
hallway.
“SHE’S ESCAPING! SEIZE HER!” all the other
bricks bellowed.
Immediately, four Skeleton Keys drew swords
and lunged at the fleeing prisoner. Ping leapt from
the wall and tripped the attackers, sending each one
spilling over the next like dominoes.
“Get out of here!” Ping begged.
Anne Mai did not look back. She dove down a
drainage shoot having no clue as to where it would
lead. Ping then looked up. Rammus towered over
him, his monstrous shape now revealed. A mighty
hoof rose into the air and smashed the courageous
brick.
Anne Mai spiraled in total darkness and fear,
slipping down a mossy slope; the more she
struggled, the faster she went. But at last a glow
appeared at the end of the channel. Her body shot
into an abyss and plunged several stories.
SPLOOSH! The next thing the teen knew she
had fallen into water so hot she felt like she was in a
bathtub. Anne Mai swam to the surface and gasped
for air. Her head bobbed up-and-down inside a
cavernous domed chamber. The entire floor was a
steaming lake. Looking up, the girl saw an arching
roof peppered with holes. Each one drained out like
a tiny waterfall.
Anne Mai began swimming towards a far-off
shoreline. Suddenly, she heard a heavy SPLASH
behind her. More followed quickly: SPLASH –
SPLASH – SPLASH! The Skeleton Keys had found her,
109

Chapter 12
pouring out of the rooftop like thousands of gold
coins into a fountain. Her pursuers chopped
through the water – a golden wave of wrath. But
Anne Mai was much lighter and pulled away from
them easily.
After a furious swim her feet touched upon a
sandy shore. Here, hundreds of tunnels encircled a
grand cavern wall. Anne Mai randomly slipped into
one and made her way along the passage. Vapors of
steam sizzled in the air, hissing through crags like
angry snakes. After a series of blind turns the
teenager found something quite unexpected – a
small room.
Inside, a dusty shaft of light shone on a
doorway of rice paper. But the door led absolutely
nowhere. It was just a thin frame standing in the
center of the room. Gently, Anne Mai slid the panel
open and saw a whole new room waiting on the
other side.
“This makes no sense,” Anne Mai whispered to
herself. “Perhaps it’s only an illusion.” Rapidly, the
clanging of metal armor echoed down the tunnel.
The hunters had found her. Without thinking, Anne
Mai stepped into the rice paper doorway.
BOOF! She teleported to the other room. But
the sound of jingling Skeleton Keys sounded even
louder here. Across the way Anne Mai glimpsed
another rice paper portal and hastily jumped
through it.
BOOF! She now found herself in a hallway of
gray stonework, with three more floating portals in
the center. A dreadful noise scratched the walls
behind her. CLING – CLANG – CHING! Anne Mai
turned just in time to see a row of soldiers reaching
out for her. She threw herself into another of the
portals.
110

The Heart of the Lair
BOOF! Then BOOF again! Then BOOF, BOOF,
BOOF, some more! Anne Mai leapt into any rice
paper portal she saw, one right after another, with
never a thought as to where she would eventually
end up. Finally, the girl fell, exhausted and panting.
Anne Mai parted her bangs to see where she
was; only she could scarcely believe her eyes. A
towering city of portal doors stood before her -
millions of them. Here stood level upon level of
bridges, towers, and houses all covered in rice-paper
portals.
Anne Mai scurried into the city’s open
courtyard, but nobody looked to be home. It
appeared completely abandoned. Who could
possibly live here? she wondered, and sifted some
sand from the ground between her palms. But it did
not feel like sand at all. It felt more like flakes of
metal. In fact, the entire city was made from the
same golden flecks. A sinking feeling began to tug
at Anne Mai’s insides as she surveyed the scene.
“Gold city… gold soldiers,” she murmured.
The girl hopped to her feet as something moved
beneath her. A gilded scorpion came digging up
from the sand, and in an instant the place was
swarming with them. Anne Mai fled inside the city.
But just as she reached one of the city’s countless
portals, a Skeleton Key soldier marched out. Soon
Skeleton Keys began pouring out of every portal in
sight – every portal but one.
High above everything, one portal-door sat
unguarded. It hovered over a floating staircase of
blue bricks, and not a single soldier stood within a
hundred yards of it. Clearly, this could be her
chance. Anne Mai dashed away, both skittering
scorpions and clattering Skeleton Keys giving chase.
111

Chapter 12
The teenager reached the stairs and shot up
like a bullet. With every step one of the little blue
bricks would shout, “get off my face,” or, “watch
where you’re stepping.” Anne Mai fixed her eyes on
the single portal at the top and started through it.
BOOF! She found herself in a long dank
corridor that contained four smooth, reddish
chambers. Here, a large silver window ran the
length of the wall, and more than that, there were
people on the other side of it. Bankers and
businessmen, elevators and fountains – it was an
actual normal place.
Anne Mai ran to the window and pounded on
it with her fists. “Hello! Hello! Help me, please!”
she shouted anxiously. But none of the people paid
any attention. Can’t they hear me? she wondered.
Abruptly, the girl realized she could barely hear
herself. There was not a trace of echo. It was as if
this place ate sound.
“Foolish, foolish,” a voice called out.
Anne Mai turned and shrieked. Behind her
Rammus swished his charcoal tail. With a CLIP-
CLOP, CLIP-CLOP he stepped into the light.
“It’s not a window, little one. It’s a mirror,”
the cat instructed.
“A mirror, sir?” Anne Mai asked hesitantly.
“From here my master can tell which of those
persons is lying.”
“How can a mirror tell who’s lying?” the teen
asked again, backing away slowly.
“Because that mirror’s a liar, too. And don’t
bother running again.”
Anne Mai froze dead in her tracks. “Did you
think I’d build an escape route in the dungeon?”
Rammus continued. “You’ve run yourself into the
112

The Heart of the Lair
one place even Skeleton Keys won’t dare to go – the
very heart of the dragon’s lair.”
But dragon or not, Anne Mai had no intention
of ever going back to her cell. She bolted down the
passageway as Rammus gave a terrible ROAR!
Sprinting as fast as she could, the girl wound up at a
dead end, and here she saw them again – those
blood red curtains from her dream. Rammus closed
in from the opposite end and trapped her.
The Siamese cat began to buck and snarl. All
of a sudden, Rammus’ true form erupted. He looked
like a drooling bull at the face, but had a lion’s mane
and stood upright on two cloven hooves. Rising to
over eight feet tall, the savage beast stamped and
charged his prey.
Anne Mai could only accept her fate as the
minotaur’s pointed horns galloped towards her…
CRASH!
113

Chapter 13
ON YOUR MOTHER’S EYES
“MAI MAI!” Henry awoke straight up in his
sleeping bag. The boy looked around his
grandparent’s spare bedroom. Peter and Walsh were
still snoring on the floor next to him. He got up,
stepped over them, and bolted out the door.
In the hallway he ran into Talo who was
standing watch over their room. Without a word,
Henry sprinted past him and went directly to his
parent’s room. Here he found his mother sitting
alone in bed. His father had left early that morning
to comb the city with Chief Hsing (both determined
to find the suspect from the night before).
“Mama,” Henry whispered with some effort.
The woman could see her son shivering and
beckoned him to come to her. “Are you all right?”
she asked the child as he melted into her arms.
“In my dream I saw Anne Mai.” Henry
murmured.
“I know. I did too,” his mother responded
softly.
“No Mama. In my dream she was hurt. Then I
saw her die.” Mrs. Lee squeezed her eyes shut.
114

On Your Mother’s Eyes
“Don’t say that, Henry. It’s just a nightmare
from everything that’s been happening,” she
comforted. “It’s only five o’clock. Why don’t you try
sleeping some more? This time dream about Papa
bringing Mai Mai home.”
The boy walked away slowly and closed the
door. When he had gone the woman cupped her
hand to her mouth and broke into tears.
Henry made his way back down the hall.
Talo’s eyes were fixed on him, and for the first time,
it appeared like the big man might say something.
But his lips did not budge as the youngster slipped
by.
Henry shut the door behind him, making sure
not to disturb Walsh and Peter. He lay back on his
pillow and sighed. I wish I could help you Mai Mai,
he thought.
Suddenly, an odd scent of raw fish filled the
room, and a clammy hand locked over his mouth.
The boy struggled and kicked, knocking both his
friends in the head as he did.
“Hey. Watch it, Henry,” Peter grunted putting
on his glasses.
“Yeah,” Walsh mumbled with a wide yawn.
“And Buttums’ socks stink. Would somebody please
open a window?”
“MMPH!” Henry uttered through the tight grip
around his throat.
The sleepy lumps finally opened their eyes.
“KIDNAP…” Walsh and Peter’s voices were cut short,
nabbed by the same gangly intruder (his one good
eye darting from side to side like a wild man).
“Shh, peasants,” he hushed. Henry acted
calmly, nodding through the slimy stranglehold.
The man slowly released the boys to breathe.
115

Chapter 13
“What do you want from us?” Peter squeaked
like a leaky balloon.
“I promise I’m not going to hurt you.” The
dark figure trembled. “I’m here to take you to her.
You must believe me. I’m not dangerous. She’s in
danger.”
“It’s a trick,” Walsh exclaimed. “He’s trying to
kidnap us, too.”
“No. Wait. I can prove it to you.” The old man
smiled a near toothless grin. “I have a note. See.
Here.” He pulled a wad of fabric from his pocket.
Most of the letters were waterlogged and smeared,
but Henry noticed something familiar about the
signature.
MaI Mai
“That’s my sister’s nickname,” Henry uttered
in shock.
“Yes. I was a prisoner with her,” the cloaked
stranger hissed in a raspy voice. “But I escaped.
Then, because I like her so much, I begged her to
make a note and swam here to deliver it. Then…”
“They tried to arrest you for it,” Henry
remembered.
“Indeed.” The man wiped a tear from his eye.
“Oh, the cruelty I’ll suffer for a friend.”
The boys now looked at him with pity – almost
with heroic regard.
“He was trying to help her all along,” Peter
said, patting the man’s bony shoulder.
“And now the whole island thinks he’s the
kidnapper,” Walsh shook his head.
“I’m used to such injustice,” the lanky one
groaned glumly.
116

On Your Mother’s Eyes
“We’re so sorry. How can we help you?” Henry
asked. The old man looked up keenly.
“Well, my blessed childrens,” he patted their
hands, “I need just a bit of time to go and arrange
some things. Then we’ll go together and save her.”
The ten-year-olds stared at each other
fearfully.
“Mister,” Peter’s voice quivered, “can you tell
us where we’d be going first?”
“Of course,” he chirped. “But you must swear
on your mothers’ eyes you won’t tell anyone. You’re
the only ones who believe me.”
“We swear,” they three boys said at once.
“Excellent,” the man said as he climbed to the
bedroom window and summoned them with a
gnarled finger. He then pointed at three peaks on
the horizon. It was the Wu Wei Towers. “There is
the dragon’s lair; where we must go to save your
sister.”
A cold silence hung in the air. Then a KNOCK,
KNOCK, KNOCK sounded at the door.
“Boys?” Grandma Chen’s voice called out.
“Be here when I come for you,” the lanky
character whispered under his hooded shawl.
“Wait!” The boys all jumped after him, but the
visitor vanished out the windowsill just as the
bedroom door opened.
“Can’t sleep? I’ve got hot congee and pork
buns,” Grandma Chen said holding out a steaming
tray. She then sniffed the air a few times. “Boys, I
think it’s time to do your laundry today.”
Time dribbled away. For most of the morning
the three boys sat in their room staring at the huge
building on the horizon. No one could find any
words to describe what they were feeling. Even
117

Chapter 13
when lunch came nobody took a bite. Peter finally
gasped and flushed the color of his red hair.
“I can’t take it anymore,” he wheezed. “I got
to tell somebody.” The chubby boy rose to his feet,
but his two companions pounced on him.
“No. We swore on our mothers’ eyes we
wouldn’t tell,” Walsh implored, “and you know he
needs one.”
“I’m sorry, guys. I, I, I can’t wait anymore.
The suspense is going to give me gas,” Peter
whimpered, stretching a hand for the doorknob.
“Petey, Petey, Petey. Calm down,” Henry
shushed placing a finger to his lips. “Think about it.
What are you going to say? If the police didn’t
believe him they sure aren’t going to believe us.”
“That’s right,” Walsh agreed. “Even if he had
left the note, we’re still just kids.”
“But, but, but…” Peter finally wilted. “How
much longer do we have to wait?”
“It’s five o’clock Hong Kong time,” his blonde
friend replied glancing at his wristwatch. “And we
don’t know exactly when he’ll be back.”
“Wait a second!” Henry’s eyes lit up like stars.
“What, what, what? Tell us,” Peter squealed.
“Well,” Henry cleared his throat. “That old
man said don’t TELL anyone, but he never said don’t
DO anything.” The boy pointed at the shining
metallic backpack sitting in the corner.
Walsh smiled with surprise. “Bot-Bot.”
“Of course.” Peter smacked his own forehead.
“I completely forgot why we even came to Hong
Kong with everything that’s been happening.”
The three quickly huddled together around
their science fair project.
118

On Your Mother’s Eyes
“All right. Now here’s what we’re going to
do,” Henry began. “We slip Bot-Bot into that building
and remote operate him from back here.”
Walsh shook ecstatically. “We’re going to be
heroes.”
“We can find Mai Mai, prove the old man’s
innocent, and best of all, do it from the safety of this
very room,” Henry added with a wink.
“You’re like a kid genius, Henry,” Peter
cheered.
“You just remember that when I dethrone you
as class valedictorian this year, Petey,” Henry joked
cleverly.
119

Chapter 14
TALO
The next morning, Henry, Walsh, and Peter sat
completely stoic at the Chens’ breakfast table,
looking almost painfully constipated in their efforts
to appear inconspicuous. But with the police busy
passing around a new sketch of the elusive old man,
(a flier that now hung from every telephone pole in
the city) the boys’ odd behavior went completely
unnoticed.
“I’ll see you this evening, Dear,” Mr. Lee said
rising from the table. “And I’ll call you at noon.” He
joined Grandpa Chen and Chief Hsing at the door
and the three men left for another day of searching.
Peter then motioned to the bedroom with his
eyes, and the boys quietly excused themselves from
the table. Once inside the room they locked the
door and got down to business.
“Okay,” Henry began. “Petey and I were
talking late last night and, well, there’s a kink in our
plan.”
“Right,” Peter continued. “We’re going to need
to plant Bot-Bot inside the building ourselves.”
“What are you talking about?” Walsh objected.
“You said we’d be able to do this whole thing from
120

Talo
this very room. Can’t we just remote operate Bot-
Bot over to the towers?”
“We could. His receivers do have the range,”
Peter explained confidently. “But…”
“But,” Henry interjected, “the chances Bot-Bot
makes it without being seen – we just can’t risk him
getting picked up along the way.”
“Plus this way we save a ton of battery power,”
Peter agreed excitedly. “So we go over this
afternoon, stuff Bot-Bot inside a lavatory garbage or
something, then tonight…”
“After the building closes,” Henry interrupted
again, “we can operate Bot-Bot inside the building
from here.”
“Whatever.” Walsh sighed and threw up his
hands. “So how are we going to get out of the
house without being seen ourselves?”
“Simple,” Henry and Peter chorused together.
“Sorry. After you please, Henry.” Peter dipped
his head apologetically.
“Thank you. Simple. We just tell everyone
we’re taking a nap. Then we slip in and out of that
window. We’ll be back before anyone sees we’re
gone.”
The boys linked hands over their science fair
project and wordlessly settled on the plan.
By half past eleven, the boys were all suited up
in their neon Kung Fu costumes. At a quarter to
twelve, Henry had alerted everyone in the house that
they were taking a nap and not to bother them. And
by high noon, Peter was the last of the three to
wiggle his backside out the bedroom windowsill.
From the house the youngsters snuck two
blocks to a busy intersection and began flagging for
121

Chapter 14
a taxi. But perhaps due to their garish attire, or
possibly just because of their age, no one stopped.
“Well this stinks royally,” Peter squealed,
brushing a cool ocean breeze from his face.
“Hey boy,” a voice suddenly called behind
them. Henry, Walsh, and Peter turned and saw a
sinewy Chinese teenager sitting in a rickshaw. “You
want ride? Twenty-five dollar each mile,” he winked
helpfully.
“Well that sounds like a deal,” Walsh nodded
and he and his friends jumped inside the carriage.
The driver hopped onto the street, grabbed
two long poles, and lifted the wheeled cart under his
arms. “So where you go?” he asked.
“There.” Henry pointed towards the Wu Wei
Towers.
Immediately they were whisked away. After
three brief miles the vehicle arrived out front of a
grand arching entrance.
“Okay, seventy-five dollar, please,” the
rickshaw operator smiled (having not even broken a
sweat).
Walsh handed him two fifties and the young
man sped off. “Doesn’t anybody in this town ever
make change?” Walsh shrugged.
“Come on,” Henry urged and the boys started
up the long pathway of black marble.
As they drew closer to the complex Peter
began to ponder the moment. “Do you really believe
Anne Mai’s in there?” he said cradling Bot-Bot inside
his yellow shirt.
Henry would not answer.
“Well, that’s what we’re here to find out.”
Walsh finally spoke up after a long silence.
Without another word the tiny figures trekked
to the foot of the golden glass superstructure. From
122

Talo
here they resolutely strode into the doors of Tower
One. Not one minute later a Navy soldier and a bank
manager quickly escorted the three from the
building.
“But I don’t understand. We’re just going to
the bathroom?” Walsh complained, his face now the
color of his red jumpsuit. “Henry, tell them we’re
just going wee-wee!”
“No children allowed,” the businessman said
without needing any translation. “Go and play in the
street, kid.” The two adults marched away as the
youngsters fretted and fumed.
“Well, I’m out of ideas,” Peter confessed.
“How’s this going to work if they won’t even let us in
there.”
“That’s how!” Henry eagerly directed his
friends’ attention towards the Wu Wei docks. The
boys saw hundreds of men offloading crates from
humongous tankers. “We’ll let those guys deliver
Bot-Bot into the building for us.”
Together they snuck over to a lofty chain-link
gate and peeped inside. The area sat crammed with
dockworkers crisscrossing to and fro, but also
offered plenty of hiding places, too.
“I don’t think this fence is going to be a
problem,” Walsh whispered, spitting into his palms
and rubbing them together.
“You don’t have to climb it,” Peter rolled his
eyes. “The gate’s open, genius! LOOK!”
Sure enough, the gate stood open some sixty
feet so a convoy of forklifts could drive in and out.
“The fence isn’t the problem, guys,” Henry
murmured. “They’re the problem.” He gestured
toward some twenty racing bikes parked along the
dockside, menacing riders atop each. Through dark
123

Chapter 14
sunglasses the young thugs oversaw the entire
harbor, sneering at whoever came near.
“It’s those punks from New Year’s. I can take
‘em,” Walsh promised, jabbing at the air as though
he could fight like the dickens.
“Oh, please, Walker. You quit Karate after
yellow belt,” Peter retorted.
All of a sudden, Henry grabbed Bot-Bot and
darted away before either of his friends could object.
Henry then sprinted through the open gate and ran
inside the dockyard, crouching behind a stack of
wooden crates. The boy licked his lips nervously,
unsure of his next move. But suddenly a loud BANG
exploded right behind his ear as a growling forklift
began loading the boxes directly behind him.
“HENRY!” Walsh cried out urgently, but Peter
covered his mouth.
The forklift drove off and left a scattered mess
– only no sign of Henry. Without thinking, Peter and
Walsh ran over and started digging for their fallen
companion. A small pair of hands quickly reached
up for them.
“Duck down before you’re seen,” Henry
flustered, his face now quite dirty.
“PHEW,” his two companions said patting each
other on the back.
However, the relief did not live long. The
forklift dumped its load inside a cavernous
warehouse and returned to pick up the rest of the
stack.
“Hurry, you guys!” Peter exclaimed.
Together the three began trying to pry the lid
off one of the crates.
“It’s stuck!” Henry strained.
“THE THING! THE THING! GET THE THING!”
Walsh breathlessly motioned towards a crowbar
124

Talo
strapped to the side of the crate. Using the tool, the
lid easily popped free. Inside were neatly packed,
metal desks. “Hey, cool. What’s this stuff for?”
Walsh pondered aloud.
“WHO CARES!” his friends screamed as the
noisy machine came barreling down the tarmac.
Henry tossed Bot-Bot inside the crate and
slammed the lid shut. Just as the three ducked the
forklift arrived and scooped everything away. When
the dust settled the youngsters were all covered in
filth. Still the mission looked to be a success as the
crate lumbered into the warehouse.
“Let’s get out of here before we’re seen,”
Henry sighed heavily.
But it was already too late. A large hefty
gangster in colorful bandanas stepped over them,
grinned, and began hollering at the top of his lungs.
A mad chase broke out. But the overweight
thug could not catch up. Sadly, neither could Peter.
Revving engines sounded everywhere as motorcycles
flashed across the wharf. Walsh ran back and
retrieved Peter, dragging him and Henry into a busy
street of bicycles and taxicabs. Weaving between
honking traffic, the boys skidded down a side street.
“Okay. Where to, Henry?” Walsh asked panting
and heaving.
His friend looked around at several Chinese
signs. “Uh, maybe, err…” instantly five motorcycles
whizzed past a back alley.
“Better decide QUICK!” Walsh screamed in a
hush, his eyes the size of Frisbees.
“Well, that sign says Moon Pie House – more or
less…” Henry scratched his head. “Maybe it’s some
kind of bakery.”
“Good. I’m hungry anyway.” Peter rubbed his
tummy.
125

Chapter 14
The boys snuck in under the sign’s backdoor.
Once inside, the three youngsters passed down a
dark hallway. Techno-pop music got stronger and
stronger as they went. At the end stood a doorway
of hanging beads.
Peter peeked through. “Hey, I think it’s going
to be okay,” he whispered back to them. “They’re all
girls, and they’ve got a phone. Maybe we can call
for a cab or something.”
Henry, Walsh, and Peter slowly walked into the
open. They were in a large industrial room filled
with bright strobe lights, televisions, and billiard
tables. The girls were all dressed in dark pants with
white tee shirts. Suddenly the loud music died and
all attention fixed on the three small figures
standing in the middle of the room.
“Better let me handle this, guys.” Walsh
winked. “Hello, the name’s Walker. I’m new in
town. I was hoping one of you beautiful ladies
might have a telephone I could borrow.”
Henry tapped him on the shoulder and
pointed at a row of sleek motorcycle helmets setting
in the corner. “Um, maybe we’ll just go find
someplace else, huh Walshy?” Henry advised.
But the girls rapidly formed a tight circle, drew
the blinds, and pulled out switchblades. In a flash,
Walsh, Peter, and Henry were pinned against a
billiard table. The young ladies scoffed at them
through blood-red lipstick. But things were just
about to get worse.
The sound of motorcycle engines revved
outside. SLAM! The front door flew open and in
walked the Chinese motorcycle gang. Their stocky
leader moved to the front and said something in
Cantonese. Grabbing a blade from one of the girls
he taunted Walsh with it.
126

Talo
GULP. The blonde swallowed what he thought
would be his last, and…
GRRRRRRR! Everyone froze and looked back
over their shoulder. The sunlight from the doorway
became blotted out by a huge mass in a bolo. Talo.
The bodyguard’s gaze locked onto the helpless boys
like a mother grizzly to a wounded cub.
Violence erupted. Bodies of young men flew
across the room. Windows smashed, mirrors
shattered, and pool cues snapped like broken bones.
The young women trembled, not wanting to end up
like their men. One with especially long hair pulled
a razor from her boot and held it at Walsh’s neck.
Talo stopped. Growing enraged the giant
began inhaling air like a vacuum. His suit bulged
and buckled around his vein-riddled neck. Buttons
bulleted off his shirt and collar. RIP! The
bodyguard’s muscled chest burst threw his jacket.
Screaming like banshees the Chinese girls ran
out the back of the building, a few of their men
stumbling behind. Talo then glared at the boys with
fire in his eyes.
“I think we were a lot safer with the biker
chicks.” Walsh quivered.
“Wait, Mr. Talo. I, I, I, can explain everything,”
Peter blubbered. “See, that really old man came
back and…”
“Fun, Talo,” Henry said pinching Peter’s lips.
“We only snuck out to have a little fun. Things have
been so terrible lately we just wanted to have some
fun. Do you know what that word means? Fun?”
The boys were not sure he knew what any
words meant.
“Mm,” Talo rumbled and lifted the three into
the air.
127

Chapter 14
“It’s over! He’s going to crush us!” Peter
yelped.
But he did not crush them at all. Talo perched
the children atop his powerful shoulders and trekked
around the room making a HOO-HOO, WHOO-WHOO
sound, his oversized hand pumping in midair.
“What’s he doing?” Henry wondered anxiously.
“He’s playing with us.” Walsh smiled. “I think
he’s trying to cheer us up.”
“Oh yeah. He’s playing Choo-Choo Train. My
dad used to play this with me when I was a baby,”
Peter agreed.
The bodyguard tickled Peter’s ribcage, causing
him to giggle.
Later that afternoon Talo walked into the
Chens’ seaside house, still chugging like an old
steam engine. But here the fun ended. The three
boys on his back were met with a roomful of panicstricken
stares.
“Where have you been?” Mrs. Lee cried out
(half in shock and half in relief).
The children climbed off Talo and huddled
together.
“Uh, out playing,” Henry answered guiltily,
which sparked an avalanche of hysteria.
“With everything that’s happened you go
wandering the streets alone?!” Grandpa Chen fumed.
“Did you know we’ve all been out searching
for you today?!” Chief Hsing took his turn to be
outraged.
“Yeah. I was just about to list you as missing,
too,” one of his officers added from the back.
“I checked your room at lunchtime. When you
weren’t there I thought you might be…” Grandma
Chen fell seated.
128

Talo
Mr. Lee then stepped forward and the living
room went silent. “Look how much trouble you’ve
caused, Henry,” he muttered. “I’m ashamed of you.
Go to your room and stay there.”
Peter and Walsh were not sure if he meant
them also, but they tailed behind anyway.
“Back before anyone notices, eh?” Peter
sighed.
129

Chapter 15
UNDER COVER WORK
At midnight, Peter peeked into the hallway to
see if the house looked asleep. Hearing a growl, he
saw Talo hunched by the bedroom door with one eye
propped open. The boy smiled timidly and
pretended to be going to the bathroom. When he
returned, Walsh and Henry were anxiously awaiting
his report.
“All clear Petey?” Walsh whispered.
“No,” he shook his head. “Talo’s still in the
hall. I don’t think he’s going to sleep tonight.”
“I guess he doesn’t want to take any chances
after yesterday.” Henry motioned to a set of bars
Talo had been told to erect over their window.
“I know,” Peter replied. “Your family was really
ticked. I hope it was all worth it.”
“So what are we going to do now?” Walsh
wanted to know.
“Um, well, if we complete the mission under
this blanket,” Henry said tossing a comforter over
himself and his friends, “there should be no
problem.”
130

Under Cover Work
The three nodded, and activated the yellow
backpack under cover. A brilliant array of light filled
the screen before all went pitch black.
“Okay. Moment of truth.” Peter anxiously
fingered the green remote signal for Bot-Bot.
“Wait. Before you flip that switch, let’s cover a
few things first,” Henry replied. “First, we need a
fresh memory stick. The old one’s already full.”
“Check.” Walsh unwrapped a new memory
stick and slid it inside an open slot.
“Second, don’t worry if the screen comes up
black. That probably just means Bot-Bot’s still inside
the crate,” Peter agreed with thumbs up.
“Right. Fine. Now the most important thing.”
Henry inhaled and looked at them seriously. “No
matter what we see tonight – keep quiet,” he
hushed. “If not, we’re all going to get really busted.”
On that note they flipped the remote signal…
Somewhere deep inside the Wu Wei Towers
two tiny red eyes lit up and glowed. Bot-Bot rose
onto his springy legs, his oversized claws dangling
at his sides.
Miles away, the boys’ screen flickered to life.
Only it did not appear at all dark. Rather, the image
shone clear and bright.
Henry’s mouth fell open. “What is this? Where
is he?” he mumbled.
His two companions were equally baffled.
Bot-Bot stood in the middle of an
unimaginably vast chamber. All around sat
mountainous masses of metallic office furniture
soaring out of view. Filing cabinets, desks,
workstations, chairs, partitions, tables, and more,
131

Chapter 15
and more, and more. A mind-boggling hoard all
tossed together like a furniture salad.
“I don’t get it, Henry,” Peter whispered softly.
“I thought this was supposed to be a bank. It looks
more like a huge dumpsite.”
“I don’t know. I don’t get it either,” Henry
confessed.
“Well, let’s have a look around then.” Walsh
took control of Bot-Bot using the keyboard.
With a TINKLE, TINKLE, TINKLE the little robot
slinked down a hillside of metal. At the bottom, a
pathway snaked through valleys of table legs and
folding chairs. Bot-Bot slowly followed the path
around bend after bend of stuff.
After several minutes, however, Peter became
frustrated. “How big is this place anyway?” the
redhead grumbled.
“Yeah, this is boring,” Walsh said, directing
Bot-Bot to move faster and faster.
“Careful, Walshy.” Henry reminded.
“Remember, Bot-Bot’s only a prototype. He doesn’t
have any audio, so we won’t be able to hear if
someone’s coming.”
“You’d think we could’ve gotten a pair of ears
for the godzillion dollars this thing cost,” Walsh
remarked flippantly. “Buttums, make sure you fix
that on Bot-Bot version 2.0.”
Peter rolled his eyes.
“Wait a second, wait a second,” Henry abruptly
popped. “Isn’t that light I see coming from over
there?”
132

Under Cover Work
In the distance, past tons of office oddments,
the boys squinted to make out a growing golden
light on the screen.
“Yeah,” Peter agreed, “and I don’t see any
other lights anywhere.”
“Better check that out, Walsh,” Henry urged.
The intrepid Bot-Bot began heading towards
the mysterious glow, and with each step everything
grew brighter. A low groan then sounded inside the
cavern (though the boys had no idea). The rolling
noise rose from the light source ahead, vibrating the
ground like a mild earthquake.
“Do things appear to be shaking in there?”
Peter wondered aloud.
“I don’t know,” Walsh shrugged.
“You’re right, Petey. See.” Henry pointed at
the screen as waves of furniture tumbled off the
piles like sand from a windswept dune.
Suddenly, inside the Wu Wei Towers, Bot-Bot
toppled over as a wicked voice shook the room with
sinister chanting. The air pulsated and throbbed
with an impossible language, soaring and plunging
in tone. Everything began to glow. Instantaneously,
the entire place transformed into a treasury of solid
gold, every square inch of metal now shimmering
from wall to wall.
Back in the bedroom, Henry, Walsh, and Peter
sat speechless under the blanket. The three boys
could not remove their gaze from the screen. Gold
reflected off their faces in the darkness. Yellow
sparkled in their eyes.
133

Chapter 15
Finally, Walsh broke the silence. “Is it real,
Henry? How much can Bot-Bot carry?” he tugged at
his friend’s pajamas.
“It can’t be real,” Henry responded.
“Right. Makes no sense. No metal in the
world does that,” Peter rationalized.
“We’re going to be so rich! Remember that old
man said there was a dragon! A gold dragon!” Walsh
exclaimed breathlessly.
“Quiet down. You’re rich enough already,”
Peter scolded him.
The two began bickering resentfully.
“Oh what? And you’re poor?”
“No. Just not spoiled.”
“Look!” Henry broke them apart, motioning
back to the screen. “Something’s moving in there.
We’re not alone.”
As the light source grew larger, a dark shadow
began creeping over the hills of gold and closed in
all around Bot-Bot.
“Walshy, get us out of there.”
“I… I… I can’t, Henry.”
“Quick!” Peter shouted.
“He’s not responding. He’s stuck,” Walsh tried
to explain.
Henry urgently took over the controls, but the
shadow now devoured the entire screen. “Come on,
Bot-Bot. You’ve never flaked out like this before.
Move,” Henry pleaded.
Suddenly, the screen gave a tremor and
sparked. The boys saw a flash of colorful lights as
two brilliant red eyes peered back at them.
FZZZZZT! The display sparkled with snow and went
dead. An eerie calm then elapsed, before…
134

Under Cover Work
“BOT-BOT!” the three screamed jumping to
their feet. The lights clicked on in the bedroom.
Talo stood powerfully in the doorway as Mr. Lee
raced in behind him, tying his bathrobe.
“What’s going on in here?!” Mr. Lee demanded.
“Why on earth are you three out of bed?!”
“Papa, I think we know where to find Mai Mai!
Just look!” His son uncovered the backpack.
At that moment, Henry’s mother and
grandparents filed into the room as well.
“She’s in uncle’s building!” Henry relayed.
“Henry,” his father knelt down and held him by
his slight frame. “The police will find your big sister,
I promise. But right now you’re tired. We’re all
tired. This just isn’t right my son.”
“No Papa! Listen to me first! We have proof!”
But Mr. Lee scowled and rubbed his eyes.
Walsh gingerly came forward and tried to help.
“Uh, Mr. Lee. Henry’s telling the truth, sir. That old
man’s not the kidnapper. There’s a dragon – a real
one.”
Henry’s father turned pink in the face and he
rose quickly to his feet. “Enough! To bed all of
you!” he yelled impatiently.
His wife quickly ran over to intervene.
“They’re just children, Ming Xa. They’re frightened,”
she said clutching her son tightly. “This is all too
much for them to understand.”
Grandpa Chen gently patted his son-in-law on
the shoulder to cool him down.
Mr. Lee lowered his proud head with
embarrassment. “Yes. You’re right, of course,” he
murmured slowly. “That was very foolish of me.
Please see the children to bed. Then I’d like to talk
to everyone afterwards.” With that, Henry’s father
135

Chapter 15
turned and left the room, taking the boys’ backpack
out with him.
A half an hour later, Mrs. Lee and Grandma
Chen reemerged from the bedroom and met up with
their husbands and Talo in the hallway. The circle of
adults stood in the cramped quarters waiting
patiently for Mr. Lee to begin.
“Are they asleep?” he asked quietly.
“They’re resting,” his wife whispered.
Mr. Lee nodded appreciatively. “First, I want
to ask all of you to forgive me,” he said clearing his
throat. “I should’ve never thought to stay here in
the first place. Those two boys need to be home
with their families. I just hoped… if we could find
her quickly…”
“No need for any apologies. You acted like a
man,” Grandpa Chen interjected, “and what man
wouldn’t do anything in the world to rescue his
daughter?”
The two shook hands.
“In the morning we’ll be flying back to the
States,” Mr. Lee admitted sorrowfully. This news did
not surprise anyone (though it was nonetheless
bitter to swallow). “I’ll be going to bed now, I think.”
The father trudged back down the hall feeling
defeated and broken.
Meanwhile, inside their bedroom, Henry lay
with eyes wide open (having heard the entire
conversation through the door). He knew if they left
this island he would never see his big sister again.
136

Chapter 16
THE LUCY HAN
The sun rose over the South China Sea, but
quickly disappeared behind some thick gloomy
clouds. Inside the Chens’ home, everyone packed
the Lees’ things in total silence; even Chief Hsing
and his officers helped out. Unfortunately, it
seemed there was precious little else his squad
could do.
The most difficult task proved to be packing
up Anne Mai’s belongings, and while Grandpa Chen
said he would do it, his wife and daughter refused.
They were wholly determined to do it together.
Glumly, but efficiently, the job did get done.
“Why don’t you guys clean up those dishes in
the kitchen and make sure we didn’t leave anything
lying around,” Chief Hsing ordered his officers,
nodding at Talo as he stacked the last of the
luggage. The Chief then sidled over to Henry’s
father and removed his old brown hat. “You have
yourself a safe trip home and contact the FBI as soon
as you touch down. We’ll start coordinating our
efforts with them immediately.”
Mr. Lee looked up at him with lifeless eyes – a
look Chief Hsing had now become an expert at
137

Chapter 16
recognizing. It was the look of a man who never
expected to see his lost child again. Mr. Lee shook
the Chief’s hand with a limp and hanging grip.
“Someone needs to go see about the children,”
Mr. Lee said glancing at his wife. “I’ll call my brother
and tell him we’re ready to go.”
Mrs. Lee slowly walked away towards the boys’
bedroom. When she reached the door she knocked
lightly. “Henry. We’ll be leaving for the airport in a
few minutes. Please make sure you, Walsh, and
Peter are ready to go.” Her feet then retreated back
down the hall.
Inside the room, Peter and Walsh sat in their
pajamas, looking seriously at their friend. Henry lay
buried beneath sleeping bags, pillowcases, and piles
of dirty clothes. Neither had the heart to tell him to
get up and start packing. They just sat quietly with
their arms draped around him – one on his left side
and one on his right.
“Why won’t they believe us?” Walsh began
mumbling. “If they’d only watch the recording we
made then they’d have to believe.”
“Believe what, exactly?” Peter’s face turned
cold and skeptical.
“About the dragon.”
“Please. Grow up, Walshy.”
“What’s your problem, Petey?”
“Look. I wanted to believe the old man at first,
too. But come on. He may not be a kidnapper, but
he’s a kook for sure. There’s no dragon,” Peter
shook his head forcefully.
“I can’t believe you, Buttums. After everything
we’ve seen.”
“What have we seen, Walsh?”
“Outside this house is a window scorched ten
feet high. Fire… dragon… hmm… let me think.”
138

The Lucy Han
“Did you ever consider that the kidnappers set
that fire to threaten the Lees into paying? And how
many dragons can spell well enough to write a
ransom note… you can’t even do that, genius.”
“What about those two red eyes we saw onscreen
last night?!” Walsh demanded, now getting
heated up. “I suppose that doesn’t prove anything
either!”
“Red warning lights, Walsh. It probably proves
you tripped the alarm. You’re a terrible operator. I
should’ve handled Bot-Bot on last night’s mission.”
“Oh! Oh! Oh! All right, Pete! You don’t
believe the old man?! Then how’d he get a note
from Anne Mai?!”
“You mean that soaking wet note I could
barely read? You’re right. We should believe he got
it from Henry’s sister because he said so. He
certainly looks honest enough – what with that eye
patch and all.” Peter puckered out his lips
sarcastically.
“But… you… we saw…” Walsh’s perfect tan
turned blotchy and uneven with anger. He had
never beaten Peter at any argument before and knew
it was totally fruitless to try.
Peter then sighed regrettably and eased up.
“I’m sorry, Walshy, but the old man’s obviously
disturbed. He was just trying to take advantage of
us because we’re kids. It’s like Mr. Lee said that day
at Aberdeen – dragons are metaphors.”
“A metaphor?” Walsh looked bewildered.
“Like a symbol. There are no real monsters.
No werewolves, no vampires, no zombies, and no
dragons. They’re all just symbols that adults use to
explain why evil things happen… like a girl being
taken from her bed while she sleeps.” Walsh calmed
down and wiped the frustration from his eyes.
139

Chapter 16
“I don’t know, Buttums. Henry, tell me what
you think. If you say this was all just a metaphor
then I’ll believe you.”
The youngsters waited patiently for a reply,
but the lump under the covers did not budge. Peter
and Walsh leaned in and gently nudged him.
“Henry. Psst. Hey. Henry? Can you hear me?”
Walsh whispered softly. “Tell us what you think.”
“I don’t care,” a raspy voice came rumbling
through the covers.
“What was that?” Peter now prodded.
Henry tore off all the blankets and clothes
covering his head. His eyes were swollen and tired
(dangerously close to tears, his friends thought). “I
do not care, Petey,” Henry repeated, grabbing the
portly boy. “I don’t care if it was a metaphor or a
kidnapper. I just want my big sister back.” He then
turned and seized Walsh. “And I don’t care if it was
a dragon either. If she’d just come home I’d believe
anything you say.”
The room went totally silent and stayed that
way for several minutes. Walsh and Peter could not
even bring themselves to look their friend in the eye.
For some reason, they felt ashamed, though neither
knew exactly why.
“I, I, I’m sorry,” one finally uttered.
“Me too. I’m sorry too,” the other added.
“Forget it. Come on guys,” Henry sighed
heavily. “That old man never even came back. He
probably was a kook.”
Suddenly, a light SCRAPE filled their eardrums.
It sounded like the twisting of metal.
Peter looked down and gasped. “Look!”
Tiny nails were popping up from the ground.
A gnarly hand slithered through the floorboards and
140

The Lucy Han
the bony old man dragged himself into the room.
He sat cussing as he unhooded his raggedy cloak.
“Foolish peasants. Where were you yesterday,
and who put blasted bars on the window? Now I got
to crawl through the floor and get my beautiful
shawl all dirty and wet.”
“You mean… you actually came back
yesterday, Mister?” Henry asked in disbelief.
“Of course, and you three weren’t here. Now
let’s go. I’ve arranged everything and time is
wasting.”
Abruptly, Peter shoved him back through the
hole in the floor. “Get out of here! We don’t want
anything to do with you!”
The old man yelped and fell backwards in
shock.
Walsh jumped on Peter, plugging his hand into
the boy’s mouth. “Mm, mm, mm…”
“Stop it – all of you. Someone’s going to
hear,” Henry implored. “We can’t go with you Mister.
We’re all leaving in a few minutes.”
“Leaving? Where?” he desperately wanted to
know.
“Back home to Hampshire Hills,” the boy
explained.
“What kind of coward leaves his own sister to
die?” the old man hissed. His words stung like a
poisonous arrow in Henry’s chest.
“Hey, take it easy, pal,” Walsh glared at him
angrily as Peter freed himself.
“Get out now,” Peter growled like a redheaded
grizzly cub, “or I’m getting the cops.”
“But we had a deal. So now you’re not just
cowards you’re liars as well!”
“Takes one to know one,” Peter squealed.
141

Chapter 16
But then something happened. As Peter
continued to rant at the old man, Henry arrived at a
decision. “I’m going with him,” Henry uttered barely
louder than a whisper.
“WHAT?!”
“I’m going with him,” the boy repeated again.
“Excellent,” the dark figure chortled.
“Henry,” Peter appealed. “We’ve already lost
your sister and Bot-Bot. Leave it to the police.
Please.”
“Well, I’m going too then,” Walsh nodded with
a smile. “Let Buttums take all the heat from your
mom and dad.”
Peter Buttums could not believe his ears. His
best friend in all the world had fallen under the spell
of a madman… and Walsh, too.
“Boys… five minutes, okay?” Grandma Chen’s
voice called out sweetly from behind the door.
The old man tugged frantically at their
sleeves. Peter peered at Henry and Walsh for what
he was sure would be the last time. Walsh and
Henry spun over next to the dark figure and they all
leapt perilously from the hole in the floorboards.
Peter heard the SPLASH of three bodies hit the water
and the words, “GOODBYE PICKLE! YOU COWARD!”
“I’m not a coward, Walsh, and don’t call me
Pickle!” Peter yelled emphatically back through the
hole.
Outside the Chens’ home, a sleek Rolls Royce
pulled into the driveway. Uncle Shang Sin stepped
forcefully from the door and greeted his brother.
“Ming Xa, is your family ready?” he asked.
“Yes. Thank you for coming Shang Sin,” Mr.
Lee replied.
142

The Lucy Han
“I would have it no other way. I’ll call you the
minute anything breaks here. You’ll get her back. I
promise.”
Suddenly, a terrified scream poured out of the
house. The brothers sprinted inside together. As
they reached the hallway, they found the door to the
boys’ bedroom standing open. Mrs. Lee and
Grandma Chen were holding each other and sobbing
uncontrollably.
“No… it can’t be… all the children… gone…”
Mrs. Lee wept.
In the middle of the room sat some pried up
floorboards, shadowy waves lapping gently in the
depths below. Within seconds the room spilled over
with adults: Chief Hsing, his detectives, Talo, and
Grandpa Chen.
“Talo! Why weren’t you watching over the
children?!” Uncle Shang Sin demanded. He
immediately began beating his bodyguard over the
head with his cane. The big man whimpered like a
scared puppy and fell to his knees.
“Stop it,” Mr. Lee restrained his twin. “Talo
found the boys yesterday.”
“Now let’s not panic,” Chief Hsing instructed
everyone. “They probably just snuck out again.
Officer Chiang, get on some dive gear and get down
there.”
“Sir, yes sir,” the cop saluted.
Without another word, search parties emptied
into the streets, calling the boys’ names all over the
neighborhood. Chief Hsing broke out ahead,
squinting his wrinkly eyes up and down a busy
avenue. He felt he was close, but he couldn’t see
anything.
“HENRY! PETER! WALSH! BOYS?! WHERE ARE
YOU?!”
143

Chapter 16
Huddled under a city grate, directly below the
Chief’s soles, lurked four faint figures. Peter looked
up, desperately wanting to call out for help. But he
did not think that being forever known as a coward
sounded very appealing. After a tense moment,
Chief Hsing decided to trudge on, and his voice
faded in the distance.
The old stranger began hacking violently, his
lungs coughing up clouds of dry dust. Walsh
noticed his skin looked even more pale than usual,
practically glowing in contrast with his black
shrouds.
“What’s wrong with you, Mister?” Walsh’s
boyish voice echoed around the rusty sewer.
“Nothing at all. I’m fine.” GaG, CoUgH,
wHeEzE. “We’re going to have to stay down here till
the evening moon. Then it’ll be safe to move.”
“Mister, I’m freezing,” Peter shivered inside his
sopping pajamas.
“With all that meat? Bah.” The old man
signaled for them to follow along as he led them
deep into the sewers of Hong Kong.
About an hour, fifty rats, and a million
cockroaches later, the boys saw light raining down
from a high square grate. Here, their guide
ascended a ladder and lifted the drain-lid. When he
returned, he held some dry black clothing and a
shiny new dagger. The clothes he gave to the
youngsters, but the weapon he kept for himself.
“Here. Put these on, childrens. They’ll keep
you warm tonight.”
“And uh, what about after tonight?” Peter
inquired. The fellow cackled ominously in the
shadows.
144

The Lucy Han
“After tonight staying warm will be the last
thing you worry for,” he said, strapping the dagger’s
curved scabbard onto his boot.
“What’s up there, Mister?” Walsh wondered
curiously.
“An antiques warehouse I like to frequent
when I’m down here.”
“Did you even pay for these?” Peter said
aghast.
“What do I look like? Thief?” The old
character smiled wickedly. “Come on. We still have
a ways to go yet.”
Late that night when the moon rose and a
sleepy fog lay across the island, a manhole cover
popped free. A dark shape slipped from the street
and into an alley, quickly followed by three smaller
shapes.
“Quietly now, peasants. The whole island will
be looking for us.” The old man motioned to a
telephone pole plastered in his ugly sketch.
As he led the youngsters into a low-lit
neighborhood, Henry heard some buoys clanging in
the distance. Soon the salty perfume of the sea
scented everything and they arrived at a marina of
fishing vessels.
Countless masts and mizzenmasts leaned and
swayed in the moonlight. Soggy wooden planks
grunted and bubbled under their feet as Henry,
Walsh, and Peter followed the old man to a hefty
boat covered in nets (as though caught in the web of
some great sea-spider). The vessel’s name read:
THE LUCY HAN.
“All aboard, me hearties.” Their leader
tittered. He then detached a smelly tire and a
gangplank dropped at their feet. The boys were
145

Chapter 16
quickly shoved aboard. “Now stay put whilst I cast
off.”
The three looked nervously at one another
while they awaited the old man’s return. Suddenly, a
troop of flashlights came shining up the dock. Chief
Hsing and his officers marched up in an army of
yellow rain slickers and heavy black boots.
“Check every one of these vessels, men!
Capsize them if you have to!” the Chief barked
loudly.
“I’ll check this one!” a policeman shouted as
he stepped aboard THE LUCY HAN. He stroked his
bright light to and fro across the deck, but found
nothing. However, just as the officer turned to
leave, he caught a glimpse of Peter’s ultra-fair
complexion in the corner. “HUH! I…”
WHACK! THUD! The policeman fell limp and
unconscious on the floor. A robed figure holding a
gas can stood over him smiling.
“WHAT WAS THAT?! DID YOU FIND THEM?!”
another voice called out in the night.
“NOPE! ALL CLEAR!” the old man hollered,
rolling both the gas can and the officer ashore.
After another minute, the search party moved
up the pier. The boat’s engines started chugging in
the dark waters and THE LUCY HAN put out to sea.
From the stern, Henry, Walsh, and Peter watched the
harbor lights vanish into a thin line and wondered if
they would ever be seen or heard from again.
146

Chapter 17
A WHALE OF A TALE
The Lucy Han tugged out to sea. At the helm
stood a wild man singing songs of vengeance and
hate, his tattered robes flailing in the midnight
winds.
You’ll soon have your issues,
living without your tissues.
Oh how will you ever hustle,
without any muscle?
I’ll bet you’ll look just like an arrow,
when you’re drained of all your marrow.
Oh won’t you feel so homey,
all dangling and bony.
Walsh and Peter looked at each other with
renewed concern, but Henry just stared out at his
uncle’s bank approaching on the horizon.
However, their course started veering away
from the coastline, out past the Wu Wei Harbor, past
the sampans, and even past the great ships and
147

Chapter 17
fishing vessels. Soon they were all alone moving
steadily into the South China Sea.
The old man stopped singing for a while and
stared up at the moon. He licked and raised his
fingers, seeming to measure the distance between
stars. “We’ll soon be there childrens! Dragon ho!”
“Oh brother.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Let me
ask you something, Mister. If there really was a
dragon flying around Hong Kong, wouldn’t
somebody have spotted it by now?”
“I see you are as thick in the skull-bone as you
are in the gut,” the hooded figure called down from
the captain’s wheel. “Dragons no longer fly about
the skies like the days of old. They changed their
habits long ago, preferring to keep out of the eyes
of men.”
“Do tell.” Peter yawned.
“Well, the dragon is indeed clever, you see. It
builds its lair undersea, under a river’s edge,
anywhere there’s a large table of water that meets
the land.”
“Like my uncle’s bank,” Henry murmured.
“Mm. Dragons became the best of swimming
beasts long ago,” the old man continued.
“Nowadays, men often mistake them for sea
monsters, sea serpents, and what have you.”
“This has got to be the whopper with cheese
of all fish stories.” Peter sighed.
Their guide gave him a sideways glance and
smirked knowingly. He then abruptly cut the
engines. “Best to keep your wits about you – plenty
of tricks and traps down here. This is it.”
“This is what?” Henry asked.
“This is the entrance to the lair.”
“This is nowhere in the middle of the ocean!
You said my uncle’s bank is where my sister’s at!”
148

A Whale of a Tale
Henry pointed at the three soaring towers of glass
and light.
“What? Those puny things?” the old fellow
snorted. “Those are nothing more than the horns on
the Billy Goat. The dragon’s lair runs deep, deep,
deep, into the very bowels of the ocean’s belly. Here
now – put these on.”
The boys saw three deep-sea diving suits
CLUNK at their feet. With mouths wide open, they
perused an assortment of weight belts, lead boots,
and giant copper helmets.
“What’s all this for?” Henry inquired, not
wholly sure he wanted the answer.
“These skins are made for scouring deep
oyster beds.” The one-eyed man clapped his bony
hands merrily. “Come! Put them on! Put them on!”
The youngsters pulled away from him
terrified.
“Henry, this guy doesn’t know where your
sister is.” Peter quivered. “He’s just crazy.”
“Mister,” Henry spoke up hesitantly. “We made
a mistake. We’re sorry. Just take us back home and
we promise not to tell anyone about you.”
A wrinkly scowl swept across the old man’s
face. “If I go back ashore tonight I’ll be alone. Do
you get me?” he replied menacingly as he flicked the
long curvy dagger from his boot.
“I knew it. I hate always being right,” Peter
yelped fearfully.
“Henry, do something.” Walsh wagged his
blonde head.
“Wait a second, Mister,” Henry pleaded. “I, uh,
I only see three suits. I guess we’ll have to go back
and get one for you.”
“Don’t need one.” The dark figure gulped a
deep chest-full of air, his cheeks ballooning from his
149

Chapter 17
face like watermelons. He then coughed out clouds
of dust from his throat. “Enough talk! Get those
skins on!”
Within minutes the boys were suited tip-to-toe,
a badly smoking generator feeding them air. The
old man sheathed his blade, adjusted their helmets
and straps, and tied them all together with thick
twine.
“This is only to make sure no one gets lost on
the way to the bottom. Now, to the gangplank if you
please.”
Slowly and fearfully, the boys struggled to the
edge of the deck, eyeing each other silently through
glass face shields.
“Um, Mister,” Peter’s tinny voice echoed inside
his copper helmet. “Are you sure your boat’s got
enough line for us to reach the bottom?”
“How should I know!” the old man snapped.
“This isn’t even my boat!” and with that he inhaled a
mighty wind and shoved everyone overboard.
Water plunged around them, swirling and
swallowing them. Down, down, down they fell like a
sinking ship, their souls screaming, but their mouths
silent. Walsh looked up as the moon and the surface
above vanished in a mad frenzy of bubbles.
What ensued felt like an eternity of freefall
into a quiet black. Henry felt nauseous, praying for
solid ground beneath his feet, but it would be a long
time coming. Walsh’s ears burst sharply and his
head throbbed. Peter felt unseen things bump
against his legs, and he wondered if some huge fish
might bite him in half.
But at last the pressure shifted. The waters
became steadily warmer, and soon the boys were
sweating inside their foggy face shields. Meanwhile,
light began building in the abyss. It glowed brighter
150

A Whale of a Tale
and brighter as though a blue sun rose below their
feet. Finally, they hit the ocean floor, shooting up
clouds of watery sand as they did so.
How long they lay there Henry did not know.
His eyes were squeezed shut, clutching the wavy
ground.
At some point, Henry felt a tug on the twine
around his waist. When he looked up he saw the old
man cutting him free with his dagger (his cheeks
still grotesquely full of air).
The party collected themselves at the bottom
and stood together. No shellfish or sea plant did
anyone see, nor any crustacean or swimming thing –
only sand dunes and rock. Otherwise the world was
totally barren… except for the carcasses.
Strewn everywhere were innumerable halfeaten
remains of whales and great fish: sperm
whale, blue whale, killer whale, dolphin, shark, and
too many others to name. Some looked like they
had been bitten only once, powerfully down the
middle by jaws the size of a dump truck. Others
were picked clean, organs and flesh gone without a
trace.
Walsh reeled with disgust, burying his
helmeted head in the sand. Peter and Henry froze,
awestruck. Their guide stood nearby, surveying the
aquatic graveyard, too, his robes waving like black
tentacles in the gentle currents. “Mm, mm, mm,” he
spouted, motioning for the three to follow along.
And thus began a long hard trek.
The journey felt ghastly. Several times the
boys had to stop and untangle their hoses from a
protruding rib or a chunk of tailbone. At one point,
Peter became snagged on a dead narwhale’s tusk.
As he went to untie himself, he thought he saw
151

Chapter 17
something moving in the water behind them. But he
shook it off and quickly rejoined the group. After a
while, the number of colossal corpses gradually
lessened.
In due course they came upon a dim clearing.
Something dark and looming dwelt ahead; a massive
rock wall dug firmly into the sand-belt. It rose to the
heights above, and Henry felt they must be at the
foot of Hong Kong itself. Here, they camped down
and rested for a while.
Following the respite, the boys found
themselves scaling rocky precipices, light radiating
from unknown slopes above. Near the top, the boys
got their first glimpse of a castle of unfathomable
proportions. It looked like a sunken city built by
giants. In the middle a stone drawbridge sat under a
massive archway of rock. Everything else flickered
in smoldering balls of underwater flame.
Impossible, Peter thought, wiping his face
shield in disbelief.
Incredible, Henry astounded, torches burning
on boiling bubbles.
Walsh only clutched his heart through his suit.
The four figures made their way through an
eerie outer-court to the base of the fortress, looking
like little ants as they passed under bricks the size
of barns. As they neared the forbidding drawbridge,
Henry saw a vast golden gate raised into the
battlements. The entrance was unguarded.
The explorers moved inside by cover of
undersea shadows. Before long they were in a
tunnel of misshapen statues. Disfigured and
snarling, each one held in its claws a bowl of the
underwater fire. Sadly, here the rotting whale and
shark carcasses reappeared, piled high and deep
152

A Whale of a Tale
upon the floor. Once more, Henry, Peter, and Walsh
slogged ahead, sometimes waist-deep in
decomposition.
Eventually, the chasm became shallower and
the team broke to the surface. They now found
themselves inside a large stalactite cave. Pools of
water shimmered like emeralds all about. Ashore, a
wide clearing of stone gave way to three huge tunnel
mouths that led north, east, and west, and climbed
deep into the rock face. However, tremendous gold
doors barred access in any direction.
As soon as everyone reached dry land, Walsh
wrung his hands disgustedly. “YUCK! What
happened to all those sharks and stuff? GROSS!”
The old man cackled as he squatted down and
drained his big ears. “Well childrens, a dragon’s got
to eat too. Yup. Once all the fish and sea life starts
vanishing you can bet one of the evil beasties is
nearby. Then comes all the rancid waste.”
Peter raised an eyebrow at this. “By waste you
mean…”
Their guide pointed at some slabs of white
brick sitting roughly twenty feet up shore. Each
hunk was the scale of a compact car. “You see, a
dragon’s stomach acids are like fire. If you touch or
breathe those fumes and they’ll scorch your flesh
off.”
Peter shook with amazement, grabbing Henry
by the sleeve. “Those look like reptile pellets. Just
like the python in lab class. Only this stuff came
from something way, way bigger.” Peter excitedly
unbuttoned the tethers on his helmet…
“Didn’t you hear what I just said? Don’t go
removing your helmets till we’re clear of those stink
blocks,” the one-eyed man warned.
153

Chapter 17
“The fumes don’t seem to be bothering you,”
Peter responded skeptically.
“Just do what he says,” Henry scolded.
Cautiously and without any missteps, the
party slinked past the steaming sulfuric waste. The
old man led the youngsters midway into the cavern’s
smooth bare floor. Suddenly, though, Peter felt a
tugging on his air hose.
“Hey… guys… I think I’m snagged again.”
“Yeah. Me too,” Walsh said, stopping dead in
his tracks.
“Maybe we’re finally out of feed topside,”
Henry reasoned, yanking at his line.
Their guide rubbed his withered lips, staring
fearfully at the waters from where they had come.
The wet suit cables slid back and forth across the
surface, ringlets and ripples moving rapidly onto
shore. “You three stay put. I’ll go and check what’s
got your hoses.” The old man left the boys and
headed back up to the waterline, his steps deliberate
and slow. But just as he knelt down there came a
great SPLASH!
The boys’ air hoses went taut. The next thing
Walsh, Peter, and Henry knew they were being
dragged backwards by their heads. Walsh looked
up, struggling fiercely with his line. They were
headed directly for the deadly waste blocks.
“POOPY! HELP!”
Quick as a cobra, the old man whipped out his
dagger and pounced on the three, digging in his
heels to slow their momentum. But he could not
match the overwhelming force at the other end.
Out of the sea came a horrible vision, the
rotting, skeletal corpses of two great whales and two
slobbering sharks. The sea giants rocked onto
154

A Whale of a Tale
shore, writhing and snapping as they gobbled up the
air hoses like spaghetti noodles.
Unable to slow them, the man kicked hard off
a boulder, and he and the boys slid harmlessly
between two poisonous dung-heaps. With one
disaster narrowly averted they now had to confront
the undead.
A particularly vexing killer whale with one
eyeball sent a mighty wave crushing onto shore.
Walsh became dislodged from the team and lay
motionless along the beachhead. Still disoriented,
he turned and saw a fleshy black and white flipper
groping him.
“HELP!!!” The beast bared its teeth and
lowered for the kill, its one good eye rolling and
bulging. Walsh felt the whale lock its powerful jaws
around his head. Only a copper helmet saved the
boy from an instantaneous death. The angry
monster spat Walsh out and quickly reloaded for
another cHoMp!
“AIEE!” Walsh saw a flash of dark robes jump
into the fray. The old man heroically stabbed the
creature in the eye. Even in death, the thing clearly
knew pain for it gave a mighty whale’s wail. The
putrid mammal fell back blinded, its eyeball
dangling from a slimy socket of green and white
tendons.
Next, the old man used his dagger to cut
Walsh loose from his tether, then pushed him upshore
towards his awaiting pals (both having already
been freed).
“Run childrens, run!” he commanded. “Get up
those steps and through the doors!”
“Which doors?! There’re three sets of doors!”
Peter called back.
155

Chapter 17
“PICK ANY!” the lanky character exclaimed
hysterically as he dodged a corroded Great White
shark.
Walsh, Peter, and Henry bolted away, their
leader battling the sea demons at their backs.
Scampering into the open, they held their breath and
sped past the waste blocks once again. Like
scurrying mice the three raced up a wide fanning
stair that led towards the middle tunnel. At the foot
of the golden doorways they halted, removing their
copper diving helmets and tossing them aside.
“How do we get in? Do we knock? I don’t see
any doorknobs,” Henry panted breathlessly.
“Let’s just push it open,” Walsh suggested.
“No, no, no, simpleton,” Peter scoffed. “Look
at these engravings. It can’t be that easy.
Remember what the old dude said, ‘There are plenty
of tricks and traps down here.’” Peter examined the
door. Upon it were the images of morning, midday,
night, and midnight. Below that, a depiction of four
seasonal types of weather for the subtropics: rainy,
sunny, cloudy, or monsoon.
“Do you have it, Petey?” Henry questioned.
“Maybe we adjust these panels on the door
like a dial. Yeah! That’s it!” Peter declared, the
gears inside his mind churning. “We indicate what
time of day it is and the current weather topside.
That must be the code.”
Down on the banks below, the old man
expunged the very last of the great dead fish by
luring it into a pile of milky waste. There (alongside
the remains of the zombie whales) did it dissolve
forever into a puddle of toxic gasses.
“I thought,” GaSp wHeEzE, “I told you
peasants,” gAg cHoKe, “to get out of here,” he said,
staggering up the stairs beleaguered and battle-
156

A Whale of a Tale
worn. “It won’t matter which way you choose.
Sooner or later, it leads to one of the three towers.”
“But the doors, Mister.” Peter pointed at the
golden symbols. “This must be some kind of riddle,
right?”
“Oh cripes, childrens. It’s just decoration.
The only riddle here is you have to push and not
pull,” the old man retorted, shoving the huge double
doors apart with one easy motion.
Feeling very foolish, the boys quickly trailed
him inside, following a narrow path of steps they
found within. The passage wound into infinity,
slopes of sheer rock squeezing them on both sides.
Before too long, the mighty golden doors slammed
shut behind them and drifted into the backdrop.
Thick waxy candles burned along the wallsides,
offering just enough light to make out the
steps ahead. But even so, the boys stumbled and
tripped due to sheer exhaustion. Finally, the old
man led them into a small culvert near the base of
the main road.
He quickly got a small fire going, not so much
for heat (as it was swelteringly humid), but for
illumination. Shedding their heavy waterlogged
diving suits in a corner, Henry, Peter, and Walsh
huddled together and carefully studied the shrouded
figure amidst the dancing shadows of the firelight.
This man whom they had so recently feared they
now depended on for safety.
“Thanks for getting us out of trouble back
there,” Walsh finally burst out saying. “I guess that
black shark will think twice about messing with me
again, huh?”
“It was a killer whale, Walsh,” Peter corrected
impatiently, “not a shark – think Shamu.”
157

Chapter 17
“I call them Chinese Sea Pandas,” the old man
interjected, producing some rations of dried fish for
them to share.
“Hey Mister, we don’t even know your name,”
Walsh said as he grabbed the fishy morsels.
“No peasant does. Call me… Sheshen.”
“Sheshen? What kind of name is that?” Walsh
yapped, filling his cheeks with salty bits.
“It means a wise, old blackbird. Yeah. Sure.
That’s what it means.” The old man nodded slyly.
“Sheshen,” Walsh reacted. “It makes sense. A
blackbird because of your clothes.”
“Very well. Sheshen it shall be.” The darkrobed
fellow shook hands with the boy, nabbing the
food away and tossing it at Peter and Henry.
The party ate in utter silence for a time,
except for the newly named Sheshen – he ate
nothing at all. A busy wind whistled up and down
the corridor, agitating the fire and the unending
questions beating in Henry’s mind.
“Why did those dead sharks and whales come
alive?” Henry finally spoke up.
Sheshen grinned at him, his one good eye
sparkling in the blaze. “The dragon cursed those
bones to welcome you. I fear the beast may already
know we’re here.”
The ten-year-olds stared at each other, lumps
growing in their throats.
“Well, what about those underwater flames?
How can fire burn underwater?” Peter now chanced.
Sheshen licked his few remaining teeth as he
propped his head against a stone. “That’s enough
questions for one night. Get your rest. I’ll keep
watch. We enter the catacombs at dawn. Oh, and
don’t stray from the firelight. Nighty night,
childrens.”
158

Chapter 18
THE CATACOMBS
Henry awoke the next morning with an
incredibly sore back. Pebbles had been gouging him
all night long and he felt sticky with sweat. As his
eyes focused in the dimness, the musty odor
reminded him that Hampshire Hills could not have
been farther away. Anne Mai did not lie in the
bedroom down the hall, nor did Lu Lu have any
breakfast going. He imagined the anguish his
parents must also be feeling at this moment (or
possibly how angry they were with him).
The boy forced himself up onto his elbows
and mopped the perspiration from his brow and
underarms. The rocky alcove seemed even hotter in
the morning than at night. Peter and Walsh were
already awake across the way.
“What do you say the heat is in here?” Henry
asked yawning widely.
“It’s not the heat; it’s the humidity,” Peter
complained rubbing his temples. “This place is
worse than Orlando – easily a hundred degrees.”
“Here Henry, have some dried fish,” Walsh
offered. Henry took a few salty brittle bites and
realized someone appeared absent.
159

Chapter 18
“Where’s Sheshen?”
“He left to go scout around. He said he’d be
back soon,” Peter replied. “Speaking of which, you
guys notice anything weird about him?”
“Just about everything.” Henry smiled. “But
what do you mean?”
“I mean, he doesn’t eat, he doesn’t breathe,
and I watched him last night – he doesn’t sleep
either.”
“Yeah, and what’s with the dust?” Henry
agreed. “I don’t know what he needs worse; a cough
drop or a feather duster.”
In that instant, Sheshen returned. The boys
looked up at him as he unhooded in the shadows. If
it were even possible, the old fellow actually seemed
more ancient than he did the night before. He
looked almost completely bald; only a few scraggly
white hairs were left on his scalp.
Biting the cork off a hip flask, he passed it
around. “Each of you gets a little douse of water
now. Enjoy it – make it last – because this canteen’s
all I’ve got for you,” Sheshen scowled, tearing his
flask away from Walsh’s greedy lips. “Now, it’s time
we get moving. From here we break from the main
road.”
The boys did not know exactly what this
meant when they heard it (though they would soon
find out). Their guide led them out of the culvert
back onto the winding stairway. The candles still
burned along the walls, but had not melted an inch.
“How are you at climbing, childrens?” Sheshen
asked, pointing a warty finger up the cliff-side. “Up
there’s where we got to go. Up there’s a thin cave –
no doubt tunneled by some mongrel creature years
ago. It will be tight, especially for one of us, but you
should pass.”
160

The Catacombs
Henry squinted to make out what he motioned
towards – a narrow flap under an outcropping of
rock.
The boys shrugged and started climbing.
Even though the slopes soared quite steeply, the
climb wasn’t much of a chore, and was even a little
fun. The cliffs were full of flat nooks and crannies
where they could rest during the ascent. Peter and
Walsh even began swapping jokes, their confidence
soaring with every rock they mastered.
“This dragon hunting thing is for little kids,”
one would boast.
“Yup, I think we should go into business after
this. PROFESSIONAL DRAGON HUNTERS INC.” the
other would agree.
Henry remained quiet, (smartly), though he
had never been more thankful for his friends in his
life. They definitely lightened the heavy load he
carried in his heart.
“Almost there! Don’t look down, childrens!”
Sheshen cackled, daring them to do it.
Henry gazed up into the endless black ceiling
above, awestruck by the sheer size of the place.
“Whoa. We’re like a million feet off the
ground,” Walsh announced bravely.
“You weren’t supposed to look down,” Peter
scolded.
Over and around a few more boulders and
they were there, standing on a smooth ledge before
the opening. An unhealthy fog burped from the
cave’s mouth, hot and sour smelling. The old man
swiftly ushered them inside, not even allowing them
a second to catch their breath.
Indeed, the cave was tight. Jagged teeth and
shards jutted every which way like an iron maiden.
Breathing also became difficult, and in such cramped
161

Chapter 18
confinements the heat only got thicker. It felt as
though they were slithering sideways into an active
volcano. The pace slowed to a near halt as the boys
requested water breaks more than once.
In time, the party wriggled their way to the
foot of an underground basin. Water rode up to
their knees, hissing with steam. It was nearly hot
enough for a bath. But at least the boys could stand
straight and stretch their aching spines. The only
one who did not seem tired and cramped was
Sheshen, who looked more impatient with every
delay.
“Come now. Hurry. We have much farther still
to go,” he prodded like a slave driver.
“How about some more water first?” Peter
requested, licking his dry lips.
“No!” the old man snapped. “At this rate we’ll
be dry by noon-time.”
Peter looked around, unsure how he knew the
time of day.
“From here the climb gets harder, so you’ll
need it later.” Sheshen gestured up a vertical crag of
flat stonework that buckled some hundred feet into
the air.
Begrudgingly and with long faces, the boys
began scaling the rock-face. This climb quickly
proved more grueling than the first. Water rushed
over the stones, causing several slips and spills,
which resulted in numerous bruised tailbones,
banged knees, and bloodied fingers.
From the rear, Henry could hear Peter and
Walsh complaining about the path their guide had
chosen. He stared at his own hands in the faint
light. Nicks and scrapes covered practically every
knuckle. But while he hated the road, too, Sheshen
had never been wrong yet.
162

The Catacombs
At the very top, on the last smooth slant, Peter
sliced his palm on a razor-sharp rock. Immediately,
he spiraled backwards, spinning off the overhang.
Before Walsh or Henry could even shout there came
a flash of dark robes, and in an instant, Sheshen
reappeared halfway down the cliff with Peter
dangling in his grip.
Henry and Walsh dragged themselves over the
top ledge, still marveling at how Sheshen could have
moved that fast. A second earlier he had been ten
feet in the lead, and not a moment later, he was
behind them rescuing Peter.
The old man hoisted Peter atop the cliff-face,
cursing heavily. “Stupid peasant. Is it too much to
ask you to stay alive until I get my… I mean… until
we save his sister?”
Peter sort of croaked while red gushed from
his hand. Sheshen tore a long strip off his cloak and
wrapped it tightly around the boy’s injury.
As the party had zero chance of going
anywhere until Peter recovered, they enjoyed their
longest rest upon that slippery porch.
Two hours later, four tiny figures slid from a
slit in a nearly impenetrable rock-face, and touched
down upon smooth soil. Before them stood a
rounded tunnel of mammoth proportions, as though
a giant earthworm the size of a mountain had
burrowed clean through.
No torches lit the huge tunnel. The area just
seemed to glow red all on its own, illuminating long
slashes and claw marks along the bare cavern walls.
What giant monster slithered through here?
Henry pondered to himself. He now seriously
questioned the theory that monsters were only
metaphors.
163

Chapter 18
The party continued on for what felt like mile
upon mile. Then deep in the distance, a form began
to take shape. It appeared to be a possible end to
their long trek. As their feet wore on, the shape
became recognizable as countless lights flickering
together.
“What is that way up there?” Peter asked
Sheshen cautiously, his injured hand still stinging as
he pointed.
“That’s where we’ve been headed all this time.
The entrance to the catacombs.”
The catacomb entrance stood, by far, as the
most impressive sight the boys had ever beheld.
Thousands of oak doors, stacked, one on top of the
other, soared into the high ceiling above. Each
doorway could only be reached by an iron ladder
and was illuminated by its own torchlight.
The boys stared with tight stomachs.
“Who could have built this down here?” Peter
shook his head with amazement.
Sheshen only gazed up with a look of
contempt. “It’s the dwelling of the dragon’s
underling,” he sneered. “Full of the nastiest tricks
and traps. But I’m willing to take my chances with
him over his master.”
“So, which way do we go?” Henry asked, trying
to comprehend the sheer volume of doorways.
“Doesn’t matter. You pick one,” Sheshen
replied. “They all lead to the same places.”
“Well, that doesn’t make a lot of sense,” Peter
argued. “Who builds a giant wall of doors if all you
need is one?”
The one-eyed man leered spitefully for a
moment, then smirked. “Well childrens, let’s just
say there’s a key for every door. An army of keys, if
you will.”
164

The Catacombs
“Still doesn’t make any sense…” Peter
continued muttering.
“And if we’re lucky it won’t need to make
sense. Okay. Now pick one and let’s move on.”
Henry nodded obediently at Sheshen and
motioned randomly at an entrance on the first level.
Within no time, they were all climbing up a
rusty ladder. When they reached the door Henry had
indicated, Sheshen threw it open and scampered
inside. The boys shrugged and followed along.
Unlike the huge tunnel, this passageway was
pitch black – not a spark of light anywhere. The
party began trampling through puddles. Hot
droplets of water rained down upon their heads and
blasts of steam hissed up their legs. Henry wiped
his face with his hand, only to find it was not his
hand, but Walsh’s.
“Hey, quit it.”
“Sorry, Walshy.”
“I can’t believe it. It’s like a sauna in here.”
“Shh! Stifle yourselves,” Sheshen’s voice
echoed. “You’re about to see deadly contraptions
and vile enchantments of every kind. Stop acting
like fools.”
The darkness broke as a yellow dot of light
appeared at the end of the way. When the group
reached the light they entered an ornate hallway of
carved statues. Walsh immediately remembered
their beastly faces as those from the underwater
chasm. Only these sculptures cupped bowls of
normal fire, not the bewitched water flame.
Sheshen and the boys stalked in silence across
a cobblestone floor, their shadows jumping in the
light. As Peter (who took up the rear) passed the
halfway mark, he failed to notice a devilish pair of
165

Chapter 18
eyes peeking at him. The eyes did not belong to the
statues, however, but appeared inside the flame.
Before long, all the flames had eyes, and soon
little creatures jumped from the fire and landed on
the floor. Each was a fat little ball of flame armed
with a fiery trident.
As they never made a sound, Peter did not
notice the army of impish sparks as they crept up
behind him. The boy just trotted along unawares
until he felt a strange heat growing in his britches.
Peter stopped abruptly. He thought he smelled
smoke…
“AIEE!” The ten-year-old leapt high into the
air. Walsh and Henry whipped their heads around to
see their friend scooting about on his backside
trying to extinguish the smoke and flames attached
to his fanny.
The fire beasties charged after them snarling
and spitting hot tongues like a demonic burning
carpet.
“Stay behind me!” Sheshen hollered, shoving
the three boys aside. Uncorking his hip flask, the
old man drained all the water into his bulging
cheeks. Then, like a sprinkler system gone mad, he
hosed the entire area wet. With shrieks of agony,
the miniature devils evaporated into wisps of smoke.
Walsh, Peter, and Henry cowered in the far
corner, still patting down the smoke from Peter’s
bottom. Though singed, at least they were safe.
Unfortunately, the journey would now have to
continue without a dollop of water.
“What were those things, Mister?” Walsh bit his
lip.
“Flame Buds, Fire Demons, whatever you want
to call them,” Sheshen replied. “Chinese Elementals.
A very simple spell for a conjuring dragon.”
166

The Catacombs
“I can’t do this anymore, Henry. I’m sorry, I
just want to go back the way we came,” Peter
whimpered.
“Come on, childrens. Don’t just sit there
scared. It’s time for you three to grow up and
become men.” And with that, Sheshen turned and
left the hall of statues with a scowl.
“Maybe he’s right.” Henry sighed, rubbing
Peter’s red crew cut encouragingly. “We haven’t
been much help since we’ve been down here. We
need to start pulling together like a team.”
“Right. Team.” Peter nodded.
“Okay. How about Team Nine – for Bot-Bot!”
Walsh interjected.
“TEAM NINE!” the three chorused together and
slapped hands. The friends then rose to their feet
as one and scurried out to find Sheshen.
A lonely breeze traveled up and down the
abandoned hallway after they departed, the fires still
flickering. But one Flame Bud still lived and the
critter jumped to the floor and chased after them.
About an hour later, the explorers came upon
a long chamber of red rock. Below their feet swept
an infinite drop into a windy howling void. High on
the other side stood a tall door, but the only way
over lay up a narrow rocky staircase.
The boys naturally looked to Sheshen to tell
them what to do next (though other than the drop
they couldn’t see anything harmful about this place).
Nothing seemed distinguished about it, except for
the lights. Large hanging candelabras dangled from
chains like giant wheels of fire.
“Too many torches… I don’t like it… no reason
that room should be so bright,” Sheshen said,
rubbing his saggy jowls.
167

Chapter 18
“Nah, we’re not scared. Right guys,” Peter
boasted, desperate to redeem himself in the old
man’s eye.
“Well, you should be. Look up in those
corners, childrens. What do you see?”
At first the boys could see nothing. Only the
sound of beating wings could be discerned.
Then Walsh caught sight of something.
“There! Look!” he screamed.
Deep in the recesses, flocks of dark shapes
were stirring. One of them jetted into the open – it
was a bat. Only it was not a mere bat, but more like
a silhouette that flitted and flapped across the wall.
“Shadow Bats,” Sheshen explained. “They’re
why we can’t go up in the light. As soon as they
sense your shadow, they’ll attack it, and rip it to
shreds.”
“So? So what? As long as they can’t touch us,”
Walsh snorted.
“Fool. While they attack your shadow, your
flesh will be scraped clean as well. Now stay put
whilst I go take care of these lights.” Sheshen knelt
down and picked up a handful of loose stones.
Then with amazing accuracy, he hurled the stones at
the dangling chains above the candelabras.
One by one, the mighty lamps came tumbling
down, plummeting into the depths below. Soon the
whole chamber fell black as midnight.
“No shadows,” Peter said, admiring the old
man’s intellect.
“Yeah, you’re a pretty good shot, Mister,”
Walsh agreed.
“Shh, quiet peasants. Hold hands and I’ll take
you across the dark.” Sheshen clamped his cold grip
around the boys’ wrists.
168

The Catacombs
Forming a human chain, the party cautiously
heel-toed one foot in front of the other. The
youngsters knew they must be inside when they felt
harsh winds begin whipping their faces. Henry tried
not to imagine what it would be like to have your
shadow ripped into pieces, and consequently, have
your skin do the same.
So long as it’s dark, we’re safe. Henry tried to
comfort himself.
But they were not safe. The little Flame Bud
(who had been tracking them for the better part of
an hour) suddenly jumped onto the rocky staircase.
Crowing with tiny laughter, the beastie lit up the
chamber with a brilliant light. Immediately, four
long shadows were cast upon the walls.
“RUN!” Sheshen shrieked wildly.
Henry, Walsh, and Peter darted for the door at
the top of the stairway, but the Shadow Bats were
already in fast pursuit, screeching diagonally over
the walls.
Walsh gulped fearfully as the first wave
mobbed his shadow. The blonde fell to his knees,
his face in agony. Peter and Henry watched
helplessly as bloody scratches started to form over
Walsh’s cheeks and forehead. In an instant, they too
dropped with pain, clutching their faces and crying
for help.
A second wave of Shadow Bats swooped down,
their fangs exposed like vampires. With cat-like
precision, Sheshen leapt high into the air and landed
squarely on the Flame Bud, stamping it out beneath
the heel of his boot. The chamber went dark and
the siege ended.
When the shock wore off, Henry, Walsh, and
Peter found themselves sitting in the stoop atop the
tall stairwell. Sheshen tore strips from his shroud
169

Chapter 18
and hastily tended to their wounds. It would be
some time before the boys were ready to move
ahead.
After a long uneventful walk (which felt very
welcome) the group arrived at a broad metal gate.
Beyond loomed a corridor roughly ten feet in width
and about three hundred feet in length. The area
sat totally bare except for some stones that were
strewn throughout, looking very much like randomly
placed cairns.
“Okay, childrens,” Sheshen said, hacking a
great cloud of yellow dust. “Past these markers and
we enter the catacomb proper.”
“How do we get through, Mister Sheshen?”
Henry asked politely. “I mean the gate’s shut, right?”
“Yes,” the old man hissed, “and there’s
another gate at the other end of this. But all you got
to do is go real quiet. Do you think you can do
that?”
“Sure. Only I’m not bringing up the rear this
time,” Peter protested. “Let Walshy take a turn.”
“As if Buttums!” Walsh snapped back.
“I’ll go in the back,” Henry offered bravely. “If
anything happens, I’d rather it be to me than you
guys.”
His two friends looked at each other guiltily,
but let Henry take the rear nonetheless.
Sheshen went ahead and cranked a large rusty
pulley attached to a chain. As he did so, the gate
creaked and groaned, rising into the stone ceiling.
He waved at the boys to follow his lead and they
passed under the iron gateway.
Slowly, they moved single file, making sure
not to disturb the stone piles. Once they made it
several feet in, Henry could not help sensing that
170

The Catacombs
they were in trouble yet again. His brown almond
eyes darted from side to side. Nothing stirred. He
looked behind them. Nothing came.
Suddenly, he felt a puff of air hit his ankle as
though something were sniffing his foot. He quickly
glanced down, but all he saw were the mounds of
rock. Warily, he marched ahead so as not to fall too
far behind. After another dozen feet or so a low
growl echoed throughout.
“Did anyone else hear that?” Henry whispered.
“Yeah,” Walsh called back. “It sounded like a
dog or something.”
Sheshen stopped, checking the air with a
concerned expression. “Keep moving – faster now,”
he squealed.
This time the growl turned into a chorus of
BARKS and the party halted, quaking nervously.
Henry felt something tickling his foot once more.
Below him a heap of stones sat sniffing his sandal.
Instantly, the pile leapt up. The rocks
assembled together in midair, forming the shape of
a canine. Other piles sprang to life as well. Some
amassed into smaller dogs like Poodles. Others
became larger, like Doberman Pinschers. But no
matter what the rocky shape, all of them were
aggressively snarling and snapping.
As though rabid, the pack of gravelly hounds
gave chase at a furious pace. Sheshen and the boys
sprinted away, dodging and jumping every rock-pile
that sprang up to bite them. At the end of the
corridor, an open gateway beckoned. The old man
skidded underneath and flailed wildly for Walsh,
Peter, and Henry to catch up.
The first two zoomed through, but Henry got
snagged from behind when a pebbly pit-bull leapt
from a boulder in the wall. The dog sank its
171

Chapter 18
powerful jaws into Henry’s foreleg and began
dragging him backwards to the pack. Walsh and
Peter charged into action, racing back through the
gateway and combining for a powerful kick to the
creature’s midsection. Rocks and pebbles shot
everywhere as the thing exploded.
“Come on now!” Sheshen declared.
But Henry could only grit his teeth, wailing in
pain. So Walsh and Peter plopped him over their
shoulders and rushed the boy to safety. The rest of
the stony canines arrived right on their heels, but
Sheshen activated a lever sending the gate’s iron
teeth barreling into the ground. When the dust
settled, all the barking had ceased and the dogs
returned to harmless piles of stone.
Walsh and Peter leaned back against the rocky
alcove and took deep labored breaths. Sheshen
worked swiftly to mend Henry’s leg, tearing the
longest strips from his cloak yet. Blood dribbled
onto the ground as the old man tied the bandage
like a makeshift tourniquet.
“Your friend’s lucky to still be here,” Sheshen
said. “Dog Rocks. Not too good as pets. But very
useful as guards.”
“Is Henry going to be okay?” the boys asked.
“Sure,” Sheshen answered.
Henry quivered and trembled.
“Very brave thing you did, childrens.” Sheshen
tossed the boys his pouch of salted fish. “In some
kingdoms you’d both be awarded honorary
medallions given to the most valorous of warriors.”
This idea brought a smile to Walsh and Peter’s
lips and helped to perk their spirits.
A few hours later, they all entered under a low
overhang of boulders (Henry hobbling noticeably).
172

The Catacombs
When the group came out the other side, they were
faced with a decision. A golden brick labyrinth of
interlocking rooms lay before them. There appeared
to be no doors or windows. Each room connected to
the other through an open breezeway, and strange
symbols adorned every crevice and space, like some
sort of curlicue wallpaper.
The maze forked in two distinct directions at
the outset. Left or right – which way would they go?
As had become their usual custom, the youngsters
turned to their leader for advice.
“Where to now, sir?” Peter asked.
“That’s not what bothers me… I know where
to go,” Sheshen replied with unbroken
concentration.
“Well, what then?” Walsh asked.
“Can’t you hear it?” The old man gestured to
the walls. “He’s roaming around in there…
somewhere in those rooms.”
The boys squinted hard to hear whatever
noise he meant.
“Can you hear anything?”
“Nope. How ‘bout you?”
“Nope.”
“Well, I can’t hear anything either.”
“Me too.”
“I think he’s hearing things.”
“That’s because you won’t seal your lips,”
Sheshen instructed angrily.
When they followed directions the boys did
hear something. It was very faint at first, but clearer
with time. CLIP-CLOP, CLIP-CLOP, CLIP-CLOP… Deep
inside the catacomb walls hooves paced back and
forth, back and forth.
“Ugh! It’s the DRAGON!” Walsh exclaimed.
173

Chapter 18
“Silence. It’s not the Dragon. It’s the beast’s
underling. I told you these are his catacombs.”
Sheshen rubbed his scalp, continuing to ponder
their next move.
Suddenly, a cluster of odd winged things came
fluttering up the passage.
“Look! More Shadow Bats!” Peter cried out.
“No, no, no.” Sheshen shook his head.
“They’re not dangerous, not any more than
butterflies.”
Upon closer inspection the creatures were only
fans; Chinese fans enchanted to fly.
Sheshen reached out and took hold of one. It
flapped harmlessly in his hand. “Ah, and they’ve
given me an excellent thought.” He removed his
dagger and (to the horror of the children) sliced his
own palm. But no blood came out – only dust.
“EW! GROSS!” Walsh cringed.
“Bah. I’ve got nothing left,” Sheshen fretted,
almost on the verge of tears. “You two,” he barked
at Peter and Henry. “Give me some of your bloody
bandages.”
The two stared chillingly at one another, but
did not dare refuse the old man while he had his
dagger out. The boys handed over their stained
black dressings (one from Henry’s leg and one from
Peter’s hand).
Sheshen attached them to the living fan and
set it loose down the left passage of the labyrinth.
“Come. Now we’ll attack the right side of the
catacombs.”
“But, why did you do that?” Peter wanted to
know.
“It’s time I set a trap of my own,” Sheshen
answered cryptically and sheathed his dagger. “Now
let’s move.”
174

The Catacombs
For a good while the party breezed along
uneventfully, passing room after room, hall after
hall. Every area glowed in good light, either by
torchlight or candle, and their guide always seemed
to know just where to go. The only details that
changed from room to room were the ornate
curlicues on the wall. Nothing else developed for a
long empty hour (except for boredom and intense
thirst). Occasionally, the boys would hear the
rustling CLIP-CLOP, CLIP-CLOP. But Sheshen bade
them not to worry.
“Just stand still, don’t talk, and look at me for
instructions whenever you hear that sound,” he
confidently directed. “Just don’t panic.”
No sooner had these words escaped his lips
when Walsh shrilled at full throat. “LOOK!”
Crumpled in the corner lay a decomposing
human skeleton. Henry and Peter joined Walsh in
panicking, running about hysterically whirling their
arms in the air like helicopters.
“Calm down, peasants. You were bound to
see a few of those down here. Calm down.”
However, it would be several ear-piercing
minutes before order could be restored, for the boys
had never seen a deceased person in their lives.
Finally, the drama ran its course and the three died
down.
“W, w, what happened to that man?” Peter
stammered.
“He died,” Sheshen retorted matter-of-factly.
“B, b, but how d, d, did he d, d, die?”
“Look. I wasn’t here when it happened.” The
old man sighed irritably. “It appears he might’ve
been gored or trampled upon. Anyway, his
175

Chapter 18
problems are over. But ours aren’t. So let’s keep
moving.”
However, the boys would not budge and
clutched one another in terror.
“Who was he, Mister Sheshen?” Henry asked
with a chill in his voice.
Realizing they were hopelessly stalled until
this curiosity became satisfied, Sheshen knelt down
beside the ten-year-olds. “I don’t know, childrens.
Maybe he was a dockworker that got lost, or an illfated
architect who took a wrong turn. But judging
by the suit and tie, I’d say he was a banker who got
greedy. Now, can we go before we end up that
way?”
Dragging his troop to their feet, he escorted
them into the adjoining room… where they
discovered three more bodies.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
The next few hours elapsed quite slowly. For
one thing, Peter felt the need to say a prayer over
each new corpse they found. For another, Walsh
insisted on poking every one for any signs of life.
Henry, though, remained quiet. Eventually, (for
better or worse) the boys became familiarized with
the sights and smells of dead people.
In this same gruesome fashion, the twists and
turns kept on coming. But then Sheshen
unexpectedly stopped. The party stood at the
doorway of a room built in sandy bronze brick and
stone. Upon the wall, they saw caricatures of three
life-size men accompanied by ancient writing
painted in black. However, the most notable feature
bubbled across the floor – a pool of green slime.
Sheshen contemplated for a moment and
tossed a random pebble into the burping liquid.
176

The Catacombs
Instantly, the rock dissolved. “Mm. Evil Jelly,” he
muttered.
“You mean like acid?” Peter twitched.
“No. I mean Evil Jelly. But don’t fear. I know
the answer to the riddle, of course. Can you read
it?”
Henry tried, but it looked too strange. “I think
that’s ancient Chinese. First century B.C. maybe,”
the boy guessed. “But I can’t read it.”
Sheshen frowned with disappointment. “It
says: ‘SEE HERE THREE MEN – PICK THE
TRUSTWORTHY ONE AND HE WILL BEAR YOU
ACROSS THE PIT.’”
Peter stumbled forward; his moment had
finally come. “The middle one. He’s our guy.”
“No way, Petey.” Henry shook his head. “It’s
the bald guy. He’s got trustworthy eyes.”
“Nah, you’re both way off,” Walsh shoved them
aside. “That last dude’s smiling.”
The three turned to Sheshen leaning in the
corner.
“Well Mister, who’s right?”
“Wrong, peasants. You’re wrong, wrong,
wrong. The answer is none of them will help you.
That one’s a lawyer; he’s a fortune-teller; and the
last is a tax collector. They’re all crooked.”
Peter banged his fists fitfully. “So, how do we
get across?”
Sheshen gestured up to the roof. Above their
heads appeared another painted man, this one
hanging by his neck from a rope. The man pointed
towards a set of rungs that lined the ceiling.
“But that man’s dead,” Walsh noted.
“Precisely. Him, you can trust. It’s a riddle.
Get it? He’s dangling like we’ll all be when we cross
over on those handrails. Ha, ha, ha. Very funny.”
177

Chapter 18
The boys did not find it quite as amusing, but
dangle they did as the old man heaved them up to
the roof. Crossing over reminded Walsh and Henry
of the monkey bars they used to play on in school.
However, Peter grunted and griped just to make it
three rungs deep.
“Come on, Petey. You can do it,” Henry
encouraged safely from the other side. “It’s just like
the President’s Physical Fitness Test we took last
year.”
Walsh quickly reminded Henry that that
particular test was the only one Peter had ever failed
in his life. In the end, Sheshen carried the hefty
child to the other side on his back.
From that point forward, the old man
accelerated the pace through the catacombs. The
party zigzagged in and out of trap-rooms and riddlechambers
at near breakneck speed; past slicing
blades and poisonous idols; through hammering
gongs and quicksand floors; and under shifting
bricks and slicing whips. Each puzzle proved to be
little more than child’s play for Sheshen (a nuisance
more than anything fatal).
“Hurry, childrens! Faster! Faster!” he
demanded, leaving behind a dusty footprint with
every step he took.
At last, Sheshen dropped to the ground with
exhaustion. Immediately, trap doors fell on both
sides of the group, sealing them inside an odd
room. The walls were covered with levers on every
side, and next to every handle a tiny picture was
drawn.
“This is it, childrens…” GaG, CoUgH, wHeEzE!
“This is the last of the trap rooms. We’re almost free
of the catacombs.” HAcK, GaRgLe, cHoKe!
178

The Catacombs
The boys watched as Sheshen groped feebly
about the floor.
“Hey, Mister. Just take it easy and rest for a
minute. My friends and I will figure out this last
puzzle for you,” Henry offered.
“Ha. Indeed. Be my guest little warriors.”
Sheshen giggled.
Henry, Peter, and Walsh surveyed the myriad
of levers.
“Obviously, only one of the triggers will
release us,” Peter surmised. “Anything else will
undoubtedly unlock some kind of deathtrap.”
“Right,” Henry agreed, “and the clue as to
which is the correct switch is in one of these
pictures.”
“Yeah,” Walsh nodded, wishing he could add
something brilliant to his bright-minded friends.
“It might help to know what the riddle is,”
Sheshen mentioned. “The pictures all read: ‘IT IS
WHEN TRUE LOVE TRULY BLOSSOMS.’”
“‘When true love truly blossoms,’” Henry and
Peter repeated, examining the pictograms even
closer.
Each drawing portrayed the same man and
woman at different stages of their lives together.
“Hmm,” Peter pondered. “My guess is it’s this
one when the couple gets married. That’s true love.”
“I don’t think so,” Henry disagreed. “Too easy.
I think it’s this one where he gives the girl flowers.”
“Flowers? That could mean anything.”
“No Petey, look closer at the flowers. They’re
lotus blossoms he’s giving her. It’s when true love
truly BLOSSOMS. Get it?” Henry clarified.
“Both excellent guesses,” Sheshen chimed in,
crumpled on the hard floor. “But pull either of those
levers and we’re all finished. Want to try again?”
179

Chapter 18
“It’s this one,” Walsh then spoke up. His voice
sounded remote and troubled. The placard he
pointed to showed the man leaving the woman and
her child.
Sheshen struggled to his feet and came near
him, his eye brimming with wonder. “Ah.” He
cackled. “This boy knows something of the world
already. Yes. This one’s had his heart broken –
unlike your friends. Am I right?”
“It just seemed like a play on words,” the
blonde explained in a choked voice. “Leave her –
lever – this room’s full of levers. That’s all I was
thinking.”
“Indeed. Divorce is the answer.” The old man
smiled snidely as though he delighted in the pain he
sensed.
Walsh shot him a nasty look and Sheshen
flipped the lever. The doors went crashing apart
and they were free to go.
“Make haste, childrens. Our prize awaits.”
But no sooner had the party stepped into the
next chamber when…
ROAR!!!
The boys froze, every muscle in their bodies
tensing like rubber bands about to snap. Sheshen
did not startle, however. He only waited patiently
with a finger pressed to his lips.
CLIP-CLOP, CLIP-CLOP! Strutting hooves
echoed around the room as though only inches
away.
“I can smell you, you old beggar!” a voice
rumbled through the walls. It was demonic, deep,
and ominous. “So. You returned again. How many
times do you expect to freely take of my master’s
gold? I smelled your dry bones at dawn this
180

The Catacombs
morning and not just that… this time you’re not
alone.”
CLIP-CLOP, CLIP-CLOP, CLIP-CLOP!
Henry shuttered, trying to keep his knees from
rattling, though he had never been more afraid in
his young life. He could hear a pair of great nostrils
sniffing the air like a cyclone.
SNIFF, SNORT, SNIFF!
“Since you’re so smart, see if you can find
me,” Sheshen announced brashly.
Peter stared at him as though insane.
“Outrageous arrogance, Thief! Do you really
suppose you know these catacombs better than me?
Not one brick stands atop another that I did not
place myself.”
And with that the hoof-beats began charging.
CLIPPITY-CLOP, CLIPPITY, CLIPPITY, CLIPPITY-CLOP!
“RUN! HE’S IN THE NEXT ROOM,” Peter
squeaked.
“Don’t move,” Sheshen replied, resolutely
holding his ground.
The hooves clattered everywhere, beating in
the boys’ eardrums, and finally skidded to a halt.
From the shadows of the adjacent room, the
lumbering form of a minotaur strode forth stamping
and snorting ravenously. Rammus saw motion in
the corner and lowered his powerful horns to gore it,
only to watch something flutter up to the ceiling. A
little Chinese fan flapped idly by with a few friends.
Attached to the creature’s wings were two long
strips of bloodstained cloth.
“HEE, HEE, HEE, HEE, HEE!” came a mocking
cackle.
From a small hole at the base of the wall, (no
bigger than a mouse) Rammus spied an eyeball.
181

Chapter 18
“Poor old Ring Nose. You really are a dope,
and you really are a chump,” Sheshen taunted.
“Why don’t you use that sackcloth to dry your crying
eyes. HEE, HEE!”
On the other side of the wall the boys saw a
great beast’s nostrils blasting heated snorts into the
tiny hole.
Sheshen knelt down even closer to greet him.
“Well, you goofed Bull-Breath Hair-Ball,” he said.
”You followed your nose down the wrong rabbit
hole. If you start galloping now, you can probably
retrace our steps in an hour or two. Of course, by
then I’ll be bathing in your master’s gold.”
“NO!” the minotaur raged.
“Oh yes!” Sheshen promised from his hands
and knees.
“I swear this now… Before the next moon your
head shall be under my hooves, THIEF!” Rammus
bellowed.
“Indeed. See you soon then.” The old man
winked his one good eye and rose weakly to his feet.
He, Henry, Walsh, and Peter then exited the
catacombs forever.
After a brisk stroll through a craggy dell,
Sheshen and the boys came upon a terrain strewn
with boulders that glowed red hot with fire.
Moisture in the air burned and snapped into searing
heat vapor.
“This place just won’t let up,” Peter grumbled.
“It keeps getting hotter and hotter.”
“We’re almost to the tunnel that leads straight
into a secret place in the dungeon. I left a mark so I
could find it again. Can you see it?” Sheshen
inquired.
182

The Catacombs
The boys did not see anything. The old man
led them down a winding path around the huge
blistering rocks that sizzled like giant eggs about to
pop.
In the distance, Peter thought he made out a
blue spot amidst all the redness. He wiped his
foggy glasses with a finger. “Is that it?” the redhead
chanced.
“It is.” Sheshen patted Peter’s chubby head.
“These fiery boulders are called Lava Eggs. They’re
full of molten magma. This dead one I drained like a
coconut. See the hole? EGGS marks the spot, so to
speak.”
The large, lifeless blue stone had a puncture
in its side and a stream of cooled lava lay in a
puddle below it.
Rolling the giant rock aside, Sheshen slithered
into an opening underneath. Henry, Walsh, and
Peter eagerly snuck inside to join him. This cave felt
very much like the first one they had encountered –
hot and cramped. However, the earth here was
much smoother, sparing the children additional cuts
and bruises. The ground bent in waves, forcing
them to crawl up and down on their bellies like
worms on parade.
After a time, they all reached the end of the
tight tunnel. By now the boys’ mouths felt like chalk
and a cool drink held foremost in their minds.
“Are you sure you don’t have just a drop more
in your canteen, Mister?” Walsh asked sluggishly.
“Snap out of it,” Sheshen barked. “Don’t get
drowsy on me now. We’re here.” The old man
wrestled his long sinewy fingers against the slimy
tunnel’s end and began shoving and pushing, his
boots plowing in the dirt to gain some leverage.
“EEEEEEEE! ARRRGGGG!”
183

Chapter 18
Like a loose tooth, a huge brick slid out of
place and crashed onto the other side. Torchlight
spilled inside the tunnel and Sheshen hurriedly
scrambled out. The three boys followed next, and
found themselves in a dank cellblock of bricks and
bars.
Sheshen stood tall, collected his bearings, and
quickly set about peering through every jail. “Where
is she? Where?” the old man babbled to himself.
Henry quickly snuck a peek from behind
Sheshen. The boy’s heart then plummeted. He saw
the one vision he feared the most; the skeletal
remains of a young girl, her nightgown flapping in
some deathly breeze. “MAI MAI! ANSWER ME! MAI
MAI!”
“Shush,” Sheshen snarled at him. “That’s not
your sister.”
“Henry,” a sickly voice called out.
“Mai Mai,” Henry called back. “Is that you?”
“Henry,” the voice trickled out again from a
dark corner.
The boy sprinted over feverishly. But when he
reached the shadows he saw nothing, only bits of
brick scattered along the ground.
“Mai Mai, where are you?”
“Henry… down here.”
Henry saw a half-piece of broken brick with a
face smiling up at him faintly.
“My name’s Ping, your sister told me all about
you…” Suddenly a withered white hand snatched
Ping from the ground.
“WHERE’S THE GIRL WITH THE PEARL?!”
Sheshen squeezed viciously, his voice monstrous
and coarse.
The little brick started choking. “Rammus,
guh, guh… took her, guh, guh…”
184

The Catacombs
“WHERE?!”
“The Heart, guh, guh… of the Lair…”
“Take it easy, Mister Sheshen. Let him go.
He’ll talk to us,” Henry said, grabbing for Ping, but
he could not reach him.
The broken brick cried out in desperation.
“Boys… Boys… don’t listen to him. Anne Mai’s got
his pearl… guh… guh… he’s got to… GAH…”
Sheshen smashed the little creature against
the wall. Ping shattered into pieces. The brick’s tiny
eyes rolled up and his face vanished forever.
“WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?!” Henry
exclaimed.
The old man rent his garments and collapsed
into a pile of black robes on the floor, dust spewing
from his lungs.
“Don’t listen to that loathsome liar. It knows
nothing, childrens. We’ve failed. FAILED!”
The weary lot collectively dropped their heads
and fatigue took them.
185

Chapter 19
LOST AND FOUND
For a long empty hour, the four defeated souls
sat motionless in the middle of the dungeon floor,
the torches along the walls flickering and dying.
Hunger pangs were beginning to tug at the children,
rivaling the thirst that was already consuming them.
Henry gazed up at the limp Walsh and Peter. They
were weakly leaning against each other for support.
He doubted whether either could take another step.
“Mister Sheshen, do you have any more of
those fish?” Henry asked.
The old man huddled up inside his robes and
hid himself below his shadowy hood. Without
looking up, Sheshen tossed his food-satchel between
the boys, who snatched it up in a heartbeat. But
only four skinny fish remained.
“So, uh, who gets the extra one?” Peter
wondered achingly, emptying the bag upside down
to get at any crumbs.
“Here,” Henry said giving his friends two each.
“I want you guys to have them.”
Walsh and Peter gobbled the last of the salty
fish without even questioning the boy’s generosity.
186

Lost and Found
“What do we do now, Mister?” Henry inquired
more pointedly.
“Make peace with your maker,” Sheshen finally
retorted in a snide voice.
Henry rubbed his temples in frustration. “Do
you know where my sister’s been taken? Do you
know a safe route into this Heart of the Lair?”
The old man brooded. “There is no safe route
there.”
“Yeah, but you’re going to take us anyway,
aren’t you chump,” Walsh interjected.
Both Peter and Henry were caught by surprise
at their friend’s offhand comment.
“What’s Anne Mai got of yours?” Walsh
continued. “A pearl, isn’t it? That’s what you’re
really after down here. Not her.”
“Now don’t you go believing that two-faced,
little brick, childrens,” came Sheshen’s sinister
answer. “Nothing but lies, that one. That’s why I
put him out of his misery.”
“Yeah, sure it is,” Walsh said skeptically.
“What does it matter anyway,” Peter threw up
his hands despairingly. “I can’t move. I’m too
hungry, and I need a drink so badly.”
“I might be able to scrounge you something,”
Sheshen declared (largely to change the subject). He
trotted stiffly down the corridor to an empty cell and
peeked through. Inside sat a half-uneaten cauldron
of thick goop.
Peter poked out his fuzzy red head. “Is that
what I think it is? Is that f, f, f, food?” The boy leapt
towards the open jail door with both arms extended.
“No. Don’t go near that door,” Sheshen
warned. “Let me do it.”
Lockjaw’s whip-like tongue hissed
disappointedly, lashing about the lock.
187

Chapter 19
The old man cautiously slinked inside the
open cell, noticing the bulging eyeball watching him
from within the keyhole. Gently picking up the black
kettle, Sheshen started back for the doorway.
“HOY! WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU’RE GOING
WITH THAT?!” cried out a gnarly little brick.”
“YEAH! PUT THAT BACK YOU OLD THIEF!”
squealed another brick in the wall.
Sheshen only sneered as he made his way
back out of the empty cell. Suddenly, Lockjaw
pounced, the door’s razor sharp tongue striking like
lightning. In a blaze, Sheshen chopped through the
air with his dagger. A flash of sparks ignited and a
terrible SHRIEK howled. In an instant, Lockjaw’s
metal tongue lay wriggling upon the floor like a
broken lizard’s tail.
“Now are you going to keep quiet? Or should I
take your tongues as well?” Sheshen warned the
nasty little bricks.
The ugly faces cowered and disappeared.
Sheshen handed the pot over to Peter’s eager
fingers. “Here. That’ll tide you over for a time.”
“Yeah. It’s actually pretty good. What do you
call this stuff?” Peter wondered, as Walsh snatched
the soup away from him.
“Gruel, and it’s only appetizing when you’re
starving to death. But it will keep you alive,”
Sheshen mused.
Walsh lodged his blonde head inside the
cauldron to lick it clean.
The old man sheathed his blade and began to
survey the dungeon with his one good eye. “There,”
he said with a wheezing sneeze of dust. “The girl
must have tried to escape using that waterway.”
“Let’s get her and get out of here,” Peter
uttered with renewed vigor.
188

Lost and Found
“No,” Sheshen refused. “That way will only get
us captured, too. Come. I know another way.”
For hour upon hour, the journey resumed
through a tight musty tunnel. The boys could feel
the effects of dehydration catching up with them,
and the temporary relief from the gruel was starting
to wear off. Henry staggered and lurched through
the humid air, phony visions of a watery oasis rising
from the ground.
Then, their path opened abruptly into an even
broader passage of reddish marble pillars. This new
hallway appeared well lit by some unseen source,
and would have been elegant were it not for the
floor (which remained only dirt).
The passageway spanned and spanned, up
one slope and down another. Over every incline,
Henry prayed for an end, but the smooth pillars kept
going on into infinity. Suddenly, Henry caught the
vision of water yet again.
Peter came up from behind him and rubbed
his glasses. “Whoa, is that really what I think it is?”
he asked, wiping a dry tongue over his lips.
“You mean you can see it, too, Petey?”
“Yup.”
The two fell down and crept towards the water
on bended hands and knees. It was a tiny stagnant
pool with a ray of sunlight twinkling upon it. This
brought hope on two fronts. One, because the
puddle looked so inviting, and two, because
sunshine must mean they were somewhere near the
surface.
Peter lowered his lips to the pool while Henry
watched in the water’s reflection.
“It’s poison if you do, childrens.”
189

Chapter 19
Peter squeezed his eyes and tried to block
these words from his mind.
Sheshen repeated his warning, but to no avail.
Just then Walsh came rushing up from behind.
“NO! Don’t do it Pete! STOP HIM HENRY!” he cried
out.
With his last bit of strength and good sense,
Henry draped an arm over Peter and blocked him
from drinking.
“I don’t care if it’s poisoned. I’m going to die
without a drink,” Peter fussed.
“Look!” Walsh demanded, tripping over himself
and pointing feverishly at his wristwatch. “What
time is it?”
“Half passed a freckle, quarter to a hair. I
don’t care. I’m drinking,” Peter persisted.
“It’s 2:00 AM Hong Kong time right now – so
where’s that sunlight coming from?” Walsh shook
his companion wildly.
Henry smacked his own forehead in
agreement.
“Listen to your friend, boy,” Sheshen
instructed. “We’re nowhere near the surface. That
sunbeam’s false.”
Peter’s head fell into his hands. The boy’s
heart sagged in one drawn beat and all hope faded
from him. Henry slumped down as well, passing in
and out of consciousness as if a great sleep were
about to befall him.
At that moment a CLAP-CLOP, CLAP-CLOP,
CLAP-CLOP filled the passageway.
“Oh no. It’s him again. It’s the minotaur!”
Walsh yelped with terror. “Run you guys! Run!”
But no one could even lift a muscle from the
ground. CLAP-CLOP, CLAP-CLOP, CLAP-CLOP! The
sound grew and grew. Even Sheshen shrank
190

Lost and Found
fearfully, for the first time uncertain of what was
coming toward them. Could the Minotaur have
tracked them here? Had he failed to fool him?
Henry tried once again to stand, thinking he might
distract the beast while his companions escaped, but
his body refused.
A stout shadow formed amongst the red
pillars. CLAP-CLOP, CLAP-CLOP, SPOING, SPOING!
Over a gentle rise came a tiny, round, and metallic
figure.
“BOT-BOT!”
It did, indeed, resemble the lost little robot in
almost every detail: smooth armor, oversized claws
for hands, spring-loaded legs, and two red camera
lights as eyes. However, one detail looked to be
quite different. The tyke was now solid gold.
Bot-Bot approached them, walking timidly
upright without any remote. When it reached the
four gawking persons, it stopped, and a most
remarkable thing occurred. Their robot spoke to
them. “Writ of habeus corpus. Sustained.
Overruled. I move to strike that from the record.
GUILTY, GUILTY, GUILTY!” Bot-Bot looked completely
unaware of anyone or anything around him.
Walsh, Peter, and Henry lay motionless (total
awe upon their faces). Walsh braved a hand forward
to touch Bot-Bot’s shimmering exterior.
“Good day, your Honors,” the stubby, golden
robot puzzled in a metallic voice. He then continued
speaking judicial gibberish for several more
minutes. “With the court’s permission, I’d like to file
some briefs. My client pleads innocent. NO!
GUILTY, GUILTY, GUILTY!”
“He’s alive. He talks,” Henry astounded.
“Yeah – like a lawyer,” Peter noted.
“And he’s turned to gold,” Walsh ogled.
191

Chapter 19
“It must have happened that night in the bank
along with all that other stuff. That explains why we
lost transmission,” Peter deduced.
“I concur.” Henry nodded. “But that doesn’t
explain why he’s walking and talking.”
“Your Honors, please the court,” Bot-Bot
interjected as though offended about being ignored.
“Can you tell me, where is the Gold Maker?”
“Gold Maker?” Walsh pondered aloud.
“Yes, your Honors. I seek the one who made
me. The Gold Maker. The Gold Master. Do you
know the one I mean?”
“We made you,” Peter replied honestly. “I
designed you. Henry built you, and Walshy paid for
you. Well, Walshy’s parents paid for you.” Peter
expected this barb to roust some kind of reprisal
from his blonde friend, but none came.
Walsh only slumped forward on his elbows
and nibbled at his lower lip. “Gold Maker. Gold
Master. Gold Dragon,” he murmured. “The old man
was telling us the truth after all.”
The boys turned and looked behind them.
Bundled in the corner, a pile of black robes sat
gazing at them grumpily. Henry, Walsh, and Peter
again huddled together.
“You think I ought to go apologize for
mouthing off at him earlier?” Walsh whispered.
“Yeah, probably. Maybe he can tell us
something about what happened to Bot-Bot,” Henry
urged.
Quickly, the children scooped up the docile
little robot and ran over to Sheshen.
“Hey, Mister. I’m sorry about everything I said
before,” Walsh offered contritely, batting his big blue
eyes and applying his deepest dimples. “So, uh, no
hard feelings, huh?”
192

Lost and Found
Sheshen did not move at first, but finally
broke his fang-like teeth into a wide smile. “So, this
little creature belongs to you, eh?” he said in a weak,
choked tone. “And you want to know what I know
about it – hence your change of heart. Very well. I’ll
tell you a little story that may help answer your
questions, but only on one condition. When I’ve
finished, we don’t stop until we find the girl. No
more delays, no more complaining, and most of all –
NO MORE QUESTIONS! Agreed?”
“Agreed,” the three boys yipped.
The old man nodded and leaned against one
of the red-polished pillars. Rolling up his sleeves, he
fixed intensely upon his audience.
There once was a village that dwelt
across many oceans, over many mountains,
and through many pampas. And lo, one
particular evil dragon plagued this village:
burning crops, poisoning lakes, and killing all
the fish and game.
Now, here lived an orphan boy, whose
father had been eaten alive while trying to
slay the awful beast, (as had many of the
men). Season after season, the town went
bankrupt hiring expensive slayers from
foreign lands. But they all perished, the
dragon hoarding their ransom for its plunder.
Well, one day, the boy sat praying in the
church about how to kill the dragon, and he
had himself a vision. He saw an old hermit
man who lived in the outskirts deep in a cave,
and an angel told him this one would know
how to defeat the scourge.
193

Chapter 19
So the orphan set out to find him, and
find him he did. Only the hermit was now too
old to walk, so he struck a bargain with the
boy. ‘If I tell you the Slayer’s Secret, will you
help me until I die, and then take my place
when I’m gone?’ The child agreed that he
would.
‘Then this is what you must do,’ said the
old man. ‘Go find yourself some metal that’s
been refined by the hand of a man at least a
hundred years ago. Have a smithy fashion
you a sword from it, then take the blade to the
dragon’s lair and hide yourself till the moon
rises high…’
‘Now,’ the hermit told the orphan, ‘when
the hour comes that the serpent begins to
chant, it will change many common steels into
precious metals. It’s then that you must slip
your sword in amongst the rest and it, too,
shall be enchanted. When it cools, the blade
will have strength enough to pierce that
beast’s scales, where as none other may.’
At once the child left to undertake his
mission, vengeance upon his mind. Only,
where was he to get a piece of hundred-yearold
metal? Then he remembered the church.
The town’s forefathers had built it. The lad
cleverly waited for the cleric to sleep, then
stripped the sanctuary of a single steel beam.
The orphan then traded the smithy a
year’s labor for his services, and within a
194

Lost and Found
month had himself a weapon. Now, on the
given night, the boy followed a trail of burnt
trees and came upon the dragon sleeping.
Hiding the sword beneath some piles of
knight’s armor he hid himself inside the vile
worm’s snoring nostrils.
When the dragon awoke to begin its
arcane magic, it immediately smelt human
flesh. The great serpent wheeled and
thrashed but could find nothing. So it went
ahead chanting and casting its dark spells.
There in the moonlight, the orphan saw the
piles of steel transform as the hermit had
foretold.
At this point, the dragon was weakened
from all its sorcery, and it lay down to rest for
a while. But after a time, a beautiful song
filled the forest. It was the old sword singing!
The beast leapt to its feet, but the youngster
was quicker. Hopping down from the giant
snout, the boy wielded his sword and throated
the dragon.
“Throated the dragon?” Peter queried, seeing
as the tale appeared to have finished.
“Decapitation at the neck. It’s a Slayer’s term.”
Sheshen winked.
“Wait, wait, wait just a second,” Henry
rambled, a million questions racing through his
mind. “Why did the sword come alive and start
singing?”
“Because of the old steel from which it was
forged,” Sheshen explained irritably. “Metal carries
the earth’s memories. The spell caused the sword to
195

Chapter 19
come alive and remember all the choirs who had
sung in that church. In fact, that blade would go on
to become the Singing Sword of Old, later used by
Saint George, I heard tell once, but it was lost long
ago.”
“So, that’s why he’s alive,” Peter pondered,
peddling the robot’s little feet in his hands. “Bot-
Bot’s frame and body panels were made from spare
pipes that we got from the downtown courthouse,
and that place was way over a hundred years old
before the retrofit.”
“And that explains why he talks the way he
does – words you’d hear in a courtroom,” his
Chinese friend theorized.
“Indeed,” Sheshen replied, eyeing them
closely. ‘Only the steel of antiquity first wrought by
the hand of man no less than five score.’ That’s
been the Slayer’s Secret even to this day.”
“Are you saying Dragon Slayers still live
today?” Henry flabbergasted.
“Don’t play coy, childrens. Who else could
have told you the mystery but a Dragon Slayer?
Though I must say, your choice of weapons is odd,”
Sheshen scoffed, glaring at Bot-Bot. “A spear would
have at least served you better. Maybe even a spoon
by the looks of this creature. What exactly do you
expect this contraption to do against the beast of all
beasts?”
“I move to strike, your Honors. That’s
irrelevant,” the robot sniped back.
“Take it easy. You weren’t designed to hunt
dragons, but you’re a cinch to win the Robotics
Expo,” Peter encouraged Bot-Bot.
“Hey. That’s right.” Walsh realized
ecstatically. “We’re going to be famous all over the
world now.”
196

Lost and Found
“Better than that, Walshy. NASA’s sure to drop
Team Omega and start sponsoring us,” Peter
promised.
“Stop it you guys. Let’s not get crazy here,”
Henry reminded them in a levelheaded tone.
“Right. Story time is over. We move!” Sheshen
stated emphatically.
“But, but, but…”
“What about…”
“Hang on a second…”
“Enough questions! Now let’s be off,” their
leader ordered and stomped away into the aisle of
red pillars.
Henry, Walsh, and Peter stared at one another,
their mouths hanging for more answers.
The finding of Bot-Bot gave the group a muchneeded
second wind, and for a time, all thoughts of
food or drink gave way to a single-minded purpose:
find Anne Mai and get home. Fortunately the newest
addition to the party bounded along on his own two
feet (thankfully, as his new look increased his weight
just as much as his value).
Shortly, the ground under their feet changed
from red dirt to golden flecks of sand. Bot-Bot
began hopping up and down on his two springy
legs.
“Gold! Gold!” he kept chirping like a songbird.
“The Gold Master must be this way!”
The others stopped and looked on with
concern. No one apart from Bot-Bot thought
meeting up with the Gold Master sounded hopeful.
Peter knelt down to investigate the sand, but
Sheshen hastily grabbed him. “No,” he cautioned.
“Don’t touch the sand here – not with your bare
197

Chapter 19
hand. It will only wake things we want to sleep.
Keep moving swiftly and quietly.”
The children nodded and admonished Bot-Bot
not to talk anymore.
The ruddy pillars dead-ended in a yawning
gateway of yellow stone. Beyond loomed a vast
desert covered in golden dunes. As the group
emerged into the open, they glimpsed a sparkling
structure that seemed to be sprouting deep in the
wilderness. They were headed straight for a
glorious gilded city.
The scene utterly stole the boys’ breath to
behold; not even the entrance to the catacombs
could match this in its sheer splendor. However,
these were not the same fifth-graders that had stood
before the doors of the catacombs. They had since
learned to be wary of such awesome sights in this
place.
Silently, the tiny figures crept under an
imposing wooden drawbridge. Inside the city, level
upon level of gold bridges, towers, and houses
stood abandoned, and countless rice-paper doors
hovered everywhere.
“Portals,” Sheshen mumbled to himself.
It’s too quiet here, Peter thought. Where did
all the people go?
Sheshen snaked down an alleyway,
summoning the others with a finger. The party
followed their guide until they reached the end of
the lane. Peeking around the corner, Sheshen’s face
drooped into an especially sober expression. It only
took two or three steps out of the alley to figure out
why.
The city was buried from wall to rafter in
golden soldiers. Every sentry resembled a sort of
armored skeleton key, and the boys wondered how
198

Lost and Found
long it would take before they were spotted. But the
army never moved; they were all fast asleep,
weapons dangling harmlessly at their sides.
Stepping delicately between snores and
snoozes, the group managed a good two hundred
feet deep, every step requiring a held-breath and
total concentration to complete. But just as they
were nearly through the thickest patch of
slumbering soldiers, Bot-Bot made a disastrous
decision.
“Please the court, do you know the Gold
Maker?” the robot asked, lifting the helmet off one
of the guards.
The Skeleton Key leapt to its feet, armor
clanging like a church bell, and blew a wailing note
from a horn strapped to its breastplate.
“RUN! RUN! RUN!” Sheshen howled.
“WHERE?!” the boys chorused in one voice.
The old man dragged his team up a complex
of narrow skywalks that wound high over the golden
courtyard, Walsh just making it ahead of a volley of
hurtling axes, knives, and spears. Multitudes of
heavy-metal footfall thundered after them, sounding
like an armada of kettle-drummers.
“Curses!” Sheshen raged ferociously. Each
access he tried quickly jumbled over with soldiers.
He knew they were being boxed in for the kill.
Before too long, the Skeleton Keys had forced
their prey atop the pinnacle of the highest bridge.
“Is this it? Are we really going to die?” Walsh
gasped, inhaling panic.
No one would answer. There were no more
paths to tread and their enemies would be swarming
over them in mere seconds. Henry lifted his head
and saw both ends of the skywalk-system filling with
relentless skeletal warriors.
199

Chapter 19
“We’re done for!” Peter exhaled in desperation,
grinding his fists into the sides of his crew cut.
“Silence, you! I’ve lived too long to die now!”
Sheshen spat angrily as he rose to his feet.
A charge of metal boots beat the ground and a
sortie of arrows pulled taut into a row of bowstrings.
“Grab hold of me!” the old man commanded,
and the children hastily latched onto his wide
cloaked wingspan (Bot-Bot bouncing along naively at
their side).
Without any warning, they all plunged off the
bridge just as the archers let fly. The screeches of
soldiers erupted as a black snowball of robes and
limbs fell hurtling back towards the earth. Air
whizzed past the boys’ flailing extremities, and just
as the ground came rushing up to greet their faces –
PLOOF!
A violent tug jarred their plummet, and before
anyone knew it, they were floating. Henry removed
his hands from his eyes for a peek. Sheshen’s
wrinkly jowls were bulging tightly with air; no less
than ten times the size of his head. Gently as an
autumn leaf, the human dirigible glided back down
to the courtyard below.
The incredible maneuver caught the Skeleton
Keys completely off guard. The escapees now easily
made it to the center of the city where they found a
staircase of hovering blue bricks. As they ascended,
the little bricks beneath their feet cried out “get off
my face!” or “watch where you’re stepping!”
At the top step, a floating doorway of rice
paper awaited them. Only the door led absolutely
nowhere. A foggy void was all that swirled on the
other side of it. Without delay, Sheshen shooed
Henry, Peter, and Bot-Bot through the portal. But
when Walsh’s turn came, the boy stopped short.
200

Lost and Found
“Well, come on,” Sheshen implored.
“Why aren’t following us up here?” Walsh
wanted to know.
At the bottom, a sea of Skeleton Keys lurked
like shiny sharks along the courtyard. But they
never came close to the blue stairway. The soldiers
only hoisted their weapons wrathfully.
“They protect this threshold, but dare not
cross it. They’ve better sense than we. Now come,”
Sheshen squawked.
“Cool your chilis. Since they’re too afraid, let’s
have a little fun.” Walsh rushed to the ledge and
began mocking the army with foul names, faces, and
unclean gestures.
“NO! YOU FOOL! DON’T…”
Far below, a spry marksman fired off a deft
shot from his quiver of arrows. The dart found a
new home in Walsh’s right shoulder, burying itself
deep to the shaft (nearly to the feathers). The boy
thrashed, falling backwards into the portal.
On the other side, Peter, Henry, and Bot-Bot
were waiting when Walsh came spilling out, writhing
in agony upon a cold pathway. An instant later,
Sheshen emerged and quickly tended to this latest
wound.
“W, w, what happened?” Peter clamored.
Walsh did not answer (as he lay white with
shock). Sheshen worked fast, his breaths swirling
with dust. Pulling the shaft free, a golden
arrowhead shown in the dim light, dripping with
stripes of red. Henry and Peter shrank back aghast.
The tip had a monstrous little face, and was
ravenously biting and chewing on a mouthful of
their friend’s muscle.
Breaking the arrow in two seemed to kill it, as
though snapping its spine. Casting the beastly
201

Chapter 19
weapon aside, Sheshen removed his entire hood to
create a crude sling for Walsh.
“Keep your thumb here,” he instructed Peter,
plugging the boy’s chubby digit into the open hole.
Walsh flinched, madly gritting his teeth.
“He’ll be fine. I pulled the arrow before it
could feast on any of his bone. Though I hope this
arm isn’t used for his studies.”
“It won’t matter. He doesn’t study,” Henry felt
confident in saying, causing Peter to laugh
nervously.
When the operation finished, everyone lifted
the patient to his feet, where he fell right back down
again.
“Pardon the interruption, your Honors,” Bot-
Bot cheeped in a singsong voice. “But maybe the
court should recess here for a while so your Honors
can rest.”
“I don’t know,” Peter muttered looking around.
“I don’t like it here. I’m freezing.” The boy suddenly
realized his breaths were showing as vapor.
“Hey yeah, me too,” Henry agreed. “It’s
actually cold in here. This is the first time in days
I’m not sweating. But where are we?”
“This is it,” Sheshen said flatly. “Welcome to
the Heart of the Lair.”
A long icy corridor ran the expanse. It was
blood red in color, smooth, and consisted of four
chambers: north, south, east, and west.
“We move. But remember this, don’t believe
anything you see in here, no matter what.”
The party began tiptoeing down the main
passage (Walsh hung between his two buddies like a
cross). It became clear that quiet movement did not
matter here, for there were no clear sounds or
echoes.
202

Lost and Found
“Cold here, childrens,” their guide hissed in
the silence. “It’s cold because this dragon’s heart
has turned to stone, and it’s cold because evil blood
pumps in its veins now.”
Henry and Peter then saw a wide mirror that
ran to the finish of the walkway. The reflection
inside looked true enough: two boys carrying a
third, a tiny golden robot, and a tall old man in the
lead. But Peter noticed something. Glancing in the
mirror, he saw Henry reach over and wrench him by
the hair.
“Ouch!” Peter yelped, feeling the tug. “Knock
it off Henry!”
“What Petey? I didn’t do anything,” Henry
reacted.
“Of course you did. You pulled my hair just
now,” Peter argued, gazing into the mirror again.
This time he saw himself smack Henry in the face.
“Hey!” Henry objected hotly, feeling the sting
across his cheek. “I said I didn’t pull your hair.
Why’d you smack me?”
“I didn’t.”
“Liar. You did.”
Henry and Peter were just about to drop Walsh
and have at it when they saw the injured lad’s
reflection. Two devilish lights flickered in his eyes.
At once, Walsh grabbed his friends by their throats
and started choking them. Henry and Peter fell to
their knees, gagging and retching. Just as they were
turning blue, Sheshen ran over and swatted them
both.
“Look!” the old man hollered irritably. “You’ve
left the child lying on the floor. How could he choke
you with one bandaged arm? THINK!”
“But, but, but…” Henry and Peter stammered
trying to refill their lungs with air.
203

Chapter 19
“I told you already, don’t believe anything you
see, and especially in that mirror.” Sheshen shook
his fist at the two and continued on his way.
Reclaiming Walsh atop their shoulders, the
boys dragged ahead. But Peter still felt an
overwhelming urge to glance at the mirror once
again. This time the image of himself, Walsh, and
Henry stood brimming with fangs and wild hair.
Eyes flaming with hate, the three reflections stepped
out of the mirror, and into the world of the living.
“No, Petey! Don’t believe them! They’re not
real!” Henry screeched.
But Peter already believed, and the imposters
charged forth with gruesomely wide mouths gaping.
As the ghouls leapt into the air, their fingers
sprouted claws. Henry and Peter cowered together.
CRASH! SMASH! Sheshen kicked the mirror
with all his might. Tinkling shards went pouring
onto the floor as the mirror shattered into infinite
pieces. The phantoms disappeared, and the boys
lay sprawled on the ground like trout wiggling on a
dock. Lifting a hand to his weary forehead, Sheshen
let it drop again. The old man had no more words
to spare except these:
“Come. The Red Curtains await.”
204

Chapter 20
BEYOND THE RED CURTAINS
The Red Curtains hung over a doorway like a
waterfall of decaying ruffles. Sheshen arrived first,
halting Bot-Bot and the children abruptly. He looked
around the cold smooth chamber and started
sniffing the moldy fabric. From behind him, Henry
and Peter craned their necks for a peek, though this
proved difficult as they were still burdened with
Walsh’s limp body.
“Beyond is the inner sanctum of the whole
lair,” the old man muttered. “If the dragon were
here these curtains would be smoking. We’ve finally
met up with some good fortune.”
“Shall we go in, your Honors?” Bot-Bot chirped
as though they were all here for tea and cookies.
The boys waited for a sign from their leader.
“Indeed. This is why we’ve come,” Sheshen
nodded and vanished inside.
Peter hesitated to follow him, but Henry forced
the issue and they pressed in, carrying Walsh. The
boys were not at all sure what to expect once they
passed the curtains: a grand cave, hillsides of
golden treasure, jewels, or death? What they found
205

Chapter 20
shocked them even more – a small, quaint little
bedroom.
It sat intimate and petite: a dresser and
wardrobe made from cherry-wood, a desk with a
vanity mirror, and a silken chair with ottoman.
Everything glowed comfortably in the light of a
yellow lantern. In fact, the place would have been
quite homey save for one thing – a glass bed
standing in the center, a girl lying motionless atop
its icy covers.
“MAI MAI!” Henry burst with emotion.
They had found her. Henry dropped Walsh
onto Peter and raced over to his big sister. But he
could not reach her. A glass ball encased the bed on
all sides. The boy struck the case with both fists,
causing a blue mist to swirl like a shaken snow
globe.
“ANSWER ME! MAI MAI! CAN YOU HEAR ME?!
MAI MAI!” Henry screamed, but Anne Mai did not
stir.
“Is she dead, Mister?” Peter whimpered.
Sheshen stared at the girl doubtfully, her chest
never moving.
Henry slid down onto his knees. “Mei Ling.
Help her,” the boy prayed earnestly. “Please, help
Anne Mai. Watch over her, Mei Ling.”
“Who’s Mei Ling, Henry?” Peter whispered
softly.
“Mei Ling is Anne Mai’s twin sister. She was
lost at birth, but my mom told me she still watches
over Anne Mai and protects her,” Henry explained
through tightly clenched eyelids.
Peter immediately dropped Walsh in the corner
and folded his hands in prayer. “Please, Mei Ling.
Help Anne Mai,” Peter began repeating after Henry.
206

Beyond the Red Curtains
Bot-Bot also scampered over and lifted his
claws in prayer.
“Your sister was born a twin?” Sheshen asked
as he studied Anne Mai’s stiff body. “A natural born
twin?”
“Yes. She was born a twin just like my father.
It runs in the family,” Henry explained, while Peter
continued to invoke Mei Ling’s name.
Suddenly, Anne Mai gasped a mouthful of the
colored smoke and began to murmur. “Too many
windows for too many curtains… too many curtains
for too many nights…” Anne Mai kept uttering this
odd phrase over and over again. “Too many
windows for too many curtains… too many curtains
for too many nights…”
“THANK YOU, MEI LING!” Peter praised the
heavens.
“What’s she saying? Is she dreaming? Why
won’t she wake up? What’s wrong with her?” Henry
begged Sheshen, tugging at his tattered sleeve.
“She’s suffering from the Nightmare Sleep of
the Dragon,” the old man answered. “She’s not
dead. That gas is the beast’s breath, enchanted to
make you slumber in eternal unrest.”
“How do we get her out?” Henry studied the
casing urgently.
“Like this,” Sheshen replied picking up a
golden hairbrush off the counter. He stepped
forward and bashed the brush against the glass,
shattering it open like an egg. Immediately,
tentacles of bluish vapor rose from the ruins like
toxic serpents. “Be gone!” Sheshen demanded, and
cursed them in an ancient tongue. Quickly, the
gasses fled into nothingness.
Henry shot under the broken glass and raced
to the bedside. His sister wrinkled her forehead as if
207

Chapter 20
demonic visions still danced under her eyelids.
Anne Mai’s face and nightgown were stained with
dirt, but she appeared to be in good health. Slowly
her big brown eyes fluttered open (the most
magnificent sight Henry ever imagined seeing).
“Mai Mai,” Henry whispered hopefully.
Anne Mai sat up with perfect posture and held
her head painfully. The sibling’s eyes met at last.
“H, H, Henry?” the girl inquired weakly. “A, a,
are you all right?”
“I think that’s my line,” her little brother
smiled endlessly and leapt into her arms.
Peter and Bot-Bot gathered together reverently
(Walsh still slumped over in the corner). But unlike
the others, Sheshen’s face held stoic, not a mite of
emotion to be found. If anything he seemed to be
recoiling as he chewed his fingers.
“Peter? What’re you doing here?” Anne Mai
asked, looking up for the first time. “Where’s Mom
and Dad, Henry?”
Before anyone could answer, Bot-Bot hopped
onto the bed. “Good Lady, please the court, do you
by chance know the Gold Maker?” The little robot
bowed humbly.
“Henry, why’s your science project talking to
me?”
“It’s complicated, Mai Mai.” Henry patted Bot-
Bot’s shiny dome.
“A dragon did it, Anne Mai. A real one,” Peter
rushed up to explain. “You wouldn’t believe the
things we’ve seen.”
“Don’t be so sure of that.” Henry wagged his
head. “Mai Mai, do you remember anything at all?
Who kidnapped you? Was it uncle?”
“Uncle? Kidnapped? Uh, my memory isn’t real
clear,” the girl confessed with a touch of
208

Beyond the Red Curtains
embarrassment. “I remember seeing a dungeon… I
met a friend in there… and someone else too.”
At that moment, the one-eyed man stepped
into the light.
“It was you,” Anne Mai exclaimed.
“Indeed, young lady, and do you remember
that we had a deal?” Sheshen inquired, his attempted
grin drooping badly into a scowl. “As you can see, I
fulfilled my part of the bargain.” The old man’s dark
shrouded figure inched closer to the bedside.
“I do remember that,” Anne Mai assured him,
and slipping a hand into her nightgown pocket, she
pulled out the green pearl. Once more the jewel
began to glow as the teenager unwrapped her
delicate fingers from around it. “But why didn’t you
get my parents or the police?”
“I tried them. Only these would believe me,”
Sheshen replied, his lone eyeball fixed intently upon
his treasure. “Give me my pearl, please.”
Anne Mai wavered, holding the dazzling gem
flat in her palm.
“Don’t do it,” a voice called out boldly from
the corner. Walsh stood alert, propping himself on
one good arm. “We’ll never find our way out. You
have to get us home first, Mister. Then she gives
you that pearl.”
The old man’s face knotted wrathfully. “You
are not party to our deal,” Sheshen snarled, his
hands trembling hysterically.
“I am now,” Walsh remarked.
“Scheming snot. How dare you try and barter
after everything I’ve done for you. LOOK! I’M
TURNING INTO A PILE OF DIRT!”
“All the more reason to get us out of here
quickly,” the blonde answered coolly.
209

Chapter 20
Henry and Peter looked nervously at each
other.
“I’ll be dead before anyone gets out…” CoUgH,
aCk. “Give me what is mine and I promise to lead
the way,” Sheshen countered, struggling mightily to
keep agreeable.
Walsh thought hard for a minute. “No. Lead
us home first,” he rebuffed firmly.
Cold sweat trickled down Sheshen’s dangling
jowls, dried spit clinging to the corners of his mouth
like cotton. “Very well, childrens,” he sighed. “I
have this last secret to trade. You know the Slayer’s
Secret. But now I’m offering the Dragon’s Secret –
the beast’s own hiding place.”
Henry entered the negotiations. “We already
know. My uncle’s bank is the dragon’s secret hiding
place. You can’t play the shell game with glass jars.
My dad taught me that.”
“You’re mistaken,” Sheshen tittered. “This
secret’s older than the earth is round.” He peered
slyly at the boys’ faces, clearly having hooked their
interest.
However, something in the old man’s eye
triggered the big-sister instinct in Anne Mai, and she
spoke up decisively. “No. I am not interested in the
dragon or any of its secrets. We need to go home
right now. Take us out and I will give this back.”
The girl wisely set the pearl back into her pocket.
Sheshen stood up straight and glared hatefully
at them all. Then his fangs twisted into a mad
cackle. “Very well. Very well, indeed,” he shrugged
his crooked shoulders with defeat. “Seeing as I have
no leverage here, I am obliged to meet your terms. I
will show you the way out.” With a gentlemanly bow,
Sheshen beckoned towards the door.
210

Beyond the Red Curtains
“No. After you.” Walsh bowed suspiciously in
return.
Grinning with false respect, the old man
obeyed and exited the bedroom.
“Boys,” Anne Mai whispered hurriedly. “Wait
with him outside the door. I’ll be out in just a
minute.”
“Why, Mai Mai? I’m not leaving you again,”
Henry insisted.
“I’d like to change into something other than
this dirty nightgown, Henry.”
“Change into what?” her brother wondered.
“Well, this is clearly a woman’s bedroom,” the
girl responded obviously. “I’m sure I‘ll find
something in that wardrobe over there.”
“But…”
“Henry – go.” Anne Mai shooed her brother
and his friends away. “And take your robot, please.”
The ten-year-olds did as they were told, Bot-
Bot scurrying after their heels.
“Boys.” Anne Mai called them back.
The youngsters returned and each received a
kiss on the cheek. She never told them why and she
never needed to; her eyes were filled with more than
words.
As soon as they all left, Anne Mai began to dig
through the wardrobe closet. Sure enough, she
discovered flowing Chinese robes and long silken
gowns. They all looked fabulously expensive, but
one particular white and gold piece caught the girl’s
fancy.
She changed behind a dressing divider, feeling
a tinge of guilt over her theft. However, the
memories of her cell, the gruel, and those biting
bricks quickly cured her (though reminding her of
Ping also). Where is my brave friend now? she
211

Chapter 20
wondered. And what will be his punishment for
helping me escape?
Tying the robe off at her waist, Anne Mai
admired herself in the vanity mirror. A long Chinese
dragon was embroidered from collar to ankle. Her
mother had once told her that all such serpents had
five toes, antlers like a stag, and carried a pearl of
wisdom. She retrieved the old man’s pearl from her
discarded nightgown, slipped it into her new pocket,
and set off.
But just as Anne Mai ducked out of the red
curtains she heard a familiar snickering.
“Ah, there you are,” Sheshen greeted her. “It
seems I now have the leverage I need to barter. Give
me my pearl and I won’t have to bleed this
unfortunate young soul.”
Henry stood shaking, Sheshen’s curvy blade at
his throat. Walsh and Peter stood some ten feet
away, Bot-Bot cringing behind their legs.
“How could you? He’s just a child.” Anne Mai
winced in shock.
“Give me my eye and I won’t have to.”
“Mai Mai…” Henry choked, the dagger
pressing hard into his skin.
The girl never hesitated. Taking the green
jewel into her palm she tossed it straight over.
Immediately, Sheshen gobbled it out of the air.
“NOW LET HIM GO!” Walsh and Peter declared
in one frantic voice.
“Please, Mister. You got what you wanted.
Don’t hurt my brother.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t think of it, young lady,”
Sheshen answered conceitedly. “You see I want you
all together and healthy so you can watch each other
starve to death.” He tossed Henry aside and
slithered through an impossibly tight crack behind
212

Beyond the Red Curtains
them. The old man now stood on the opposite side
of a broad gate that barred the adjoining hallway.
“Help us! Don’t just leave us here!” Peter
pleaded.
“Don’t waste your time,” Walsh sulked. “He’s
not going to help us.” Sheshen only winked at them.
“Please! I’m too young to die!” Peter fell to
his knees and continued wallowing.
“Farewell, peasants.” Sheshen pulled aside his
eye-patch and stuffed the glittery pearl into the
empty socket. Instantly, wads of flesh rolled off him
in sickening POPS and SQUISHES! In mere seconds,
he was no longer a wiry mongrel in a dark cloak, but
had returned to a blubbery middle-aged man in
pearly robes. “Ah!” he rejoiced in a stout voice; all
remnants of sickliness and dust disappeared.
“What are you – some kind of fat sorcerer?”
Walsh asked with bewildered awe.
“None of your business who I am, peasants,”
the beefy Sheshen retorted, combing his long black
whiskers with a painted six-inch fingernail. The man
scoffed and turned to leave.
“Wait!” Henry shouted after him. “What about
the dragon’s greatest secret? At least tell us that
since you’re leaving us to die.”
“Hmm,” Sheshen paused. “It might not be
starvation, but curiosity that kills you, or maybe it’ll
be the cat.” With a final thunderous laugh, Sheshen
departed into the darkness.
“COME BACK, YOU! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR
ME!” Walsh grabbed the iron gate and shook it
ferociously with his good arm. “DON’T LEAVE US! I
TAKE BACK EVERYTHING I SAID!”
Only a windy howl from the shadowy recesses
gave reply. They were alone.
213

Chapter 20
For the next hour the party tried to pick the
gate’s imposing black lock. They used every article
they could dig up from the bedroom: hairbrushes,
hairpins, makeup brushes, nail files, clippers,
jewelry, and a hundred other things. Occasionally,
the lock would eat something with a loud BELCH, but
nothing ever worked.
“Well, this is useless.” Peter sat frustrated.
“We’re totally empty on options.”
“Maybe not,” Henry said hopefully. “There are
four directions we can go from here. The bedroom
is one. The opposite way is another… though that
leads back to the Skeleton Keys.”
“Forget about it,” Walsh grumbled, rubbing his
right shoulder.
“And this gate blocks the way in this
direction,” Henry continued as though not hearing
Walsh.
“Which leaves one area we haven’t seen yet,”
Peter agreed. “That one.” He boy pointed toward a
lonely chamber leading west.
“Well, we should at least investigate,” Anne
Mai approved the notion.
Everyone gathered together and made ready
to start – except for one. Walsh refused to budge;
his arms, legs, and eyebrows all crossed stubbornly.
“Leave me,” he huffed.
“Okay. Whatever. Take care, Walsh,” Peter
retorted sarcastically.
“Come on, Walshy. You know we’re not going
to leave you here.” Henry tried to lift his difficult
friend to his feet. “We’ve come this far. You never
know, there could be water or a way out around the
next corner.”
214

Beyond the Red Curtains
“Super. You find it and bring it back here.”
Walsh sniffled his little nose as sparkles fought to
jump from the corners of his big blue eyes.
Henry threw up his hands and Anne Mai came
over to rescue the effort. The teen whispered a
couple words to the boy, but Walsh only bucked
away angrily. Anne Mai gestured to the others,
indicating that she wanted them to wait down the
hallway. Henry, Peter, and Bot-Bot retreated and left
the two figures alone.
For several gloomy minutes, Henry and Peter
watched Anne Mai reasoning with Walsh under the
shade of the gateway. Peter cupped a hand to his
ear, anxious to overhear any juicy details, but
couldn’t hear a word. In the end, Walsh shakily
reemerged, dried tear trails streaking across his
cheeks.
“Sorry guys,” is all he said as he started alone
onto the west pathway.
Henry turned back and smiled at his big sister
jokingly.
“What?” She folded her arms demurely. “Oh,
stop acting like you never cry,” Anne Mai remarked
and walked away leaving Henry gawking awkwardly
at Peter.
“I knew it,” Peter chortled, and chased after
Anne Mai with Bot-Bot in toe.
After a time, the party of four children and
one robot passed under the eyes of a great archway.
Inset within were two looming metal doors that were
rusted over with green moss. Much to their
surprise, (or dread), the eroded doors stood fully
open as though ready to embrace them.
Nevertheless, no one moved inside. The darkness
within looked too veiled and uncertain.
215

Chapter 20
“Uh, what do you suppose is in there?” Peter
asked, trying hard to swap courage for fear.
“I don’t know. It’s awful quiet and dark,”
Henry responded solemnly.
“It’s the smell that worries me, guys,” Walsh
added. “It’s a sweet stink, like those dead people we
found.”
“You saw them?!” Anne Mai’s eyes sprang
open.
“Shh,” Henry stifled. “He’s only kidding.
Aren’t you Walshy? Come on. We won’t ever know
till we go.”
Little by little, the timid explorers inched into
the unknown. In that instant, walking amidst the
falling shadows, the three boys realized how much
they missed Sheshen. He would have told them
what to do, where to go, and what dangers lurked
ahead. Now whatever they found would have to be
risked blindly.
Glowing torchlights built up steadily in the
distance, and also, the return of the insufferable
heat. Pools of sweat began beading on everyone’s
face, and yet again, the boys felt like they were
breathing through pillows. Still, the mounting
stench beat everything else. It was a noxious reek
that made footsteps wobbly.
At last, the foul void took shape around a wall
of twelve-foot candles, the torches emptying rivers
of wax into a bottomless marble pit below. Astride
the abyss loomed a giant throne, accessible only by
a wide bridge. Five deep claw grooves scorched the
sides of the stone chair and receded into the depths.
“This is a throne room,” Henry gasped. His
mind stirred with images of a spiny dragon
slithering up the hole and reigning atop its powerful
seat.
216

Beyond the Red Curtains
Peter braved forward and glanced over the
ledge. “Whatever whiffs so badly is coming from
down here,” he reported. “You don’t suppose that
uh, you know, it could be the…”
No one attempted any answers and no one
knew what to do.
“GOLD!” Bot-Bot suddenly let loose after a few
still seconds. “I smell GOLD, your Honors!”
Overcome with jittery energy, the robot sprang ten
feet in the air. SPOING! Before anyone could catch
him, Bot-Bot sprinted recklessly onto the bridge.
“WAIT! COME BACK! STOP!” Henry, Walsh, and
Peter commanded and tore off in pursuit.
“WAIT! COME BACK! STOP!” Anne Mai
pleaded, racing after them.
In no time, Bot-Bot reached the foot of the
throne. Two gigantic pillars soared from either side.
Without a care, he disappeared into the shadowy
underbelly of the mighty chair. “GOLD!” the robot
kept repeating while snapping his overgrown
pinchers anxiously.
Walsh cleared the bridge ahead of his friends
and began yelling like a panicky parent. “Bot-Bot!
You get out from under there! Right now! Bot-Bot!
Do you hear me?! Don’t make me come in there!”
Henry and Peter skidded up to Walsh and
joined him in threatening the robot.
“Bot-Bot! You’re going to be grounded inside
your backpack for an entire month!”
“No! For a year! No! For a decade!”
“And we’re going to leave you here forever!”
“Stop it,” Anne Mai scolded as she reached the
three. “You’re only going to scare him and he’ll
never want to come out.”
In the darkness a faint whimpering could be
heard, as well as the rattling of tiny metallic joints.
217

Chapter 20
“It’s all right, Bot-Bot,” the girl said soothingly.
“The boys were just frightened. That’s all. Come
out from underneath there, okay?”
“No! Your Honors might sentence me to the
electric chair if I do,” echoed Bot-Bot’s mechanical
little voice.
“No electric chair if you come out from under
THIS chair,” Anne Mai reassured calmly as she knelt
down on her hands and knees.
Two red eyes blinked back at her.
The teenager opened her arms and beckoned
with her fingers. “I promise no one’s going to
punish you.”
Shyly, the small ruby eyes crept forward
towards the light. “Don’t be sore at me, your
Honors. I only went to rescue this gold.” Bot-Bot slid
into the open dragging something twice his size, but
nobody could say quite what it was. It looked
something like a Roman shield only it was leathery
and green. There were pores and ridges all around
it, and fleshy tendrils dangled at the corners.
“Well, you got me,” Walsh said, touching the
object’s rough surface. “All I know is that’s not
gold.”
Abruptly, Henry and Peter jerked as if
lightning had jumped into their britches. “IT’S A
SCALE!” the two burst out as one.
“What?” Anne Mai crinkled her forehead.
“A dragon’s scale!” Henry implored. “Just look
at these.” The boy rubbed the dried vines hanging
from the edges. “That’s torn-away dragon muscle.”
“We have to take this back with us!” Peter
exhorted, blinking rapidly under his thick black
glasses.
“We’re going to be rich!” Walsh added.
218

Beyond the Red Curtains
“This is the biggest discovery of the century.
No. This is the biggest discovery of any century,”
Peter continued breathlessly.
“We’re going to be rich!” Walsh added again.
“For the last time, Walshy. YOU – ARE – RICH!”
Peter popped off and rolled his eyes up to their
whites.
“May I interject, your Honors?” Bot-Bot
cheeped. “If it’s wealth you want, this item is filled
with GOLD.”
“Why do you keep saying that, Bot-Bot? This
thing’s not gold,” Henry stated surely.
“Please the court. A demonstration is in
order,” the robot countered. He took the round
object in-hand (or in-claw in Bot-Bot’s case) and
shook it wildly from side to side.
“CAREFUL! YOU’LL BREAK IT!” the boys
shrieked and tried to rip it away. But before they
could, something absolutely mysterious happened.
The object inexplicably began to dribble with
sparkling liquid ore. Then it began to gush. In mere
seconds it was totally encased in solid gold. Then
with a terrific THUD, the thing went crashing to the
ground.
“How did you do that, Bot-Bot?” Henry asked in
awe.
“I told you I smelled GOLD, your Honor.”
“Fantastic,” Peter ogled, now afraid to lay a
hand upon the newly formed object.
“Yes! Fantastic!” a rumbling voice whipped
like thunder inside the throne room.
The group spun around with a collective
shudder. Across the bridge lay a long thin shadow.
It did not stir in the slightest. Then, the outline of a
tail flicked almost playfully as two narrow yellow
eyes became visible as slits.
219

Chapter 20
Walsh stepped forward curiously, but Anne
Mai grabbed the boy by his collar.
“It’s not a cat,” she barely uttered through
shaking lips. “His name is Rammus.”
“My master’s not here, but I shall keep you
company,” the Siamese cat said trotting forth. CLIP-
CLOP, CLIP-CLOP, CLIP-CLOP!
The children and their robot were totally
cornered. Apart from plummeting over the edge of
the pit, the bridge remained the only escape.
Suddenly, Rammus’ lean shadow began to
bubble and buck. With a hair-raising ROAR the
feline broke apart into a giant silhouette. Henry,
Walsh, and Peter tripped backwards aghast. Anne
Mai instinctively huddled them in her arms as the
minotaur began to stamp and drool.
“Don’t look. It will all be over soon,” she said,
holding the boys tightly.
Her little brother closed his eyes, but could
not keep the clatter of charging hooves from filling
his eardrums. CLIPPITY-CLOP, CLIPPITY-CLOP,
CLIPPITY-CLOP – SMASH!
Henry exhaled. He knew he had not died. Hot
smelly breaths were pounding down on his
forehead. He bravely propped open an eyelid.
Rammus’ bloodshot yellow eyeballs leered back at
him like giant egg yolks. The minotaur had pinned
the children against the throne, his thick horns
lodged a foot deep into the stonework behind them.
“I know what you seek,” Rammus grunted.
“The way out. Tell me where I may find that mangy
old thief and I will tell you how to get out of here.”
“Y, y, you’ll show us the way out?” Anne Mai
whispered with shock.
“I’ll TELL you the way out,” Rammus corrected.
“Now speak!”
220

Beyond the Red Curtains
“How do we know you won’t kill us once we
do?” The girl searched the beast’s face for a clue.
“Do you creatures not know a deal when you
hear it?” the smelly minotaur snorted. “Tell me
which way he went and I’ll release you.”
“Y, y, you won’t throw us into the dungeon?”
Anne Mai quivered frightfully.
“Young lady. I don’t have time to deal with
both you and him. I must make a choice. AND I
WANT HIM!”
“He escaped down that far hallway – the one
that’s locked by a big gate,” Henry blurted out
urgently.
Rammus broke into a possessed grin and
dislodged his horns, freeing his captives. “Come!”
he barked. “Follow me and I will unlock the gate for
you.” As Rammus turned his back to leave, Peter
slyly dropped down to pick up the golden scale.
“Let’s not push our luck,” Henry said,
intercepting his friend.
The redhead sighed and begrudgingly left the
object behind, glimmering in the shadows of the
throne room.
221

Chapter 21
THE GOLD MASTER
The crisp evening air tingled with an
unseasonably warm bite and not a single cloud
dotted the Hong Kong sky. Purple dusk descended
upon the Chens’ neighborhood, encasing their seahouse
in a prison of shadows. No less than a dozen
police squad cars were parked out front. Inside the
home, the face of Mr. Lee lay buried in his hands,
unmoving as a statue.
Around him sat a table full of grieving adults:
Grandma and Grandpa Chen, Mrs. Lee, Chief Hsing,
and last, his twin brother Uncle Shang Sin. At the
back, several officers scurried past the giant figure
of Talo while trying to remain hushed in their duties.
Finally, after a lengthy pause, Uncle Shang Sin
eyeballed his older brother across the table. “Ming
Xa, you have a responsibility to call the children’s
parents and tell them the truth,” he said confidently.
“You can’t wait any longer.”
Mr. Lee spread his fingers just enough to see
the telephone he had been hiding from for the last
three days. He moved one hand towards the
receiver, but pulled it away again.
222

The Gold Master
“I have to agree with your brother, Mr. Lee,”
Chief Hsing spoke up. “The press smells something
already. I’m not going to be able to keep a lid on
this much longer: four missing American children –
one whose father sits on the U.S. Security Council –
the other’s the son of a famous Hollywood actor and
actress. This is going to be an international media
frenzy.”
“Any leads on the old man at least?” the
forlorn father mumbled faintly.
“No. Nothing. He’s vanished into thin air,” the
Chief responded regrettably.
Mrs. Lee stroked her husband’s arm and
whispered something tenderly into his ear. Uncle
Shang Sin studied the couple closely, shifting
uncomfortably in his seat.
“Very well,” Mr. Lee relented with a sigh, and
he stretched out a palm towards the receiver once
more.
Suddenly, the phone began to ring. Chief
Hsing intercepted the call and snatched it to his ear
in one motion. “Hello? Yes. Yes. Yes.” The old
man’s eyes darted back and forth as though his
brain were a typewriter. With a CLICK, the other end
went dead and the Chief threw down the phone.
“Let’s go. The accountant’s talking.”
Everyone shot up from the table in an
explosion of sliding chair legs, and the dining room
erupted with urgent voices.
“Who’s got the keys?”
“Someone escort Mr. Lee.”
“I’ll stay and monitor the phones.”
“Traffic’s going to be heavy this time of night.”
“Let’s move! Let’s move!”
Some officers hollered in Cantonese, too, but
amidst all the commotion, no one even noticed that
223

Chapter 21
Shang Sin Lee never moved from his seat. He simply
rubbed his dragon-handled cane while everyone else
sprinted madly around him.
Mr. Lee looked back at his brother sitting
frozen at the kitchen table. “Shang Sin? Come on.
Let’s get moving.”
“Uh,” Uncle Shang Sin stalled. “Forgive me,
Ming Xa. I can’t go. I’m throwing a reception for a
very important investor tonight. Call me at work…
or better still… call me at the estate later tomorrow.”
Mr. Lee shrugged at his twin in bewilderment.
“We need to go right now.” Chief Hsing gritted
his teeth seriously, and the Lees, the Chens, Talo,
and most of the officers piled out the door.
In a flash, streams of police vehicles went
wailing into the heart of the city, dodging traffic,
cutting corners, and leaving rubber tire treads down
every side street. With a peal of screeching brakes,
the squad cars halted in front of the downtown
police headquarters. Chief Hsing led the way up the
front steps, shoving a nosey pack of reporters out of
his path.
Once indoors, the Chief shuffled everyone
over to a side service elevator. Here the old cop
would only permit Mr. Lee to follow, insisting the
rest of his family stay upstairs.
“Let me do the talking, please,” Chief Hsing
whispered authoritatively as he and Mr. Lee strode
into the elevator car.
The anxious father agreed as they arrived at
the bottom floor. With a determined glare the two
men then marched into the department’s cellblock.
Beyond rows of white bars sat Lineus Leung,
wearing a yellow jumpsuit. At his bedside knelt a
tall Chinese man in a pin-stripe suit. The two stood
224

The Gold Master
up and both adjusted their glasses upon noticing the
arrival of Chief Hsing and Mr. Lee.
“Chief Inspector,” Officer Chiang stepped
forward to update his boss. “He started talking to
me around dinnertime. He next asked for his
lawyer. So I called you right away.”
“Good,” Chief Hsing patted his officer on the
arm. “You come in and take notes.”
Officer Chiang nodded and unlocked the cell.
The door rattled open with a loud CLANK!
“My client’s ready to talk only if you’re willing
to act on what he tells you,” the lawyer greeted the
men as they filed into the cramped jail.
“And good evening to you, too,” the Chief
remarked bluntly. “Mr. Leung, I believe you’ve
already met Mr. Ming Xa Lee, so I won’t bother
introducing you again. Now as to whether I’ll act on
what you say – that’ll depend on what you say.”
“I want you to open an investigation into my
boss, Shang Sin Lee,” Lineus stated firmly.
Chief Hsing removed his scruffy brown hat
and kneaded his bald head. “And why would I want
to do that?” he asked.
“Well,” the accountant cleared his throat
nervously, “I’ve had some time to think everything
through, and I now believe my employer had me set
up so I couldn’t report him to the authorities.”
“Report him to the authorities for what?” Mr.
Lee inquired sternly.
The Chief clenched his fists tightly.
“Mr. Lee, I beg you to listen to me,” Lineus
pleaded. “Your brother is hiding billions of dollars
worth of extra gold in his bank. I’ve counted it all
myself and the overages keep doubling every time I
do.”
225

Chapter 21
The cellblock began to percolate with
murmurs at this accusation.
“BILLIONS of dollars?” Mr. Lee shook his head.
“That’s not even remotely plausible.”
“You’re suggesting Shang Sin Lee kidnapped
his own niece to frame you because he’s stealing
gold.” Chief Hsing raised his bushy white eyebrows
skeptically.
“I don’t know where he gets it all. But I can
prove he’s vastly underreporting his bullion
reserves. If you can just get a search warrant for my
ledger.”
“Not a chance, Mr. Leung,” Chief Hsing barked.
“It’s still only your word against his, and Shang Sin
Lee wasn’t the one found carrying a kidnapped girl’s
necklace.”
“He planted it! He must have done it when I
confronted him!” Lineus cried out loudly while his
lawyer tried to calm him.
“Do you have any proof of all this, sir?” Mr. Lee
countered. “Or are you going to just sit there
slandering my family name?”
At that moment, a voice came rumbling down
the cellblock hallway. “Chief Inspector! Chief
Inspector!” The strong echo belonged to Detective
Mag who skidded to a halt in front of the jail doors.
“Yes, Detective.” The Chief kept poised.
“Sir, I found it! I tracked down the anonymous
call that tipped us off to the accountant!” Mag
relayed breathlessly.
“Tell me,” Chief Hsing responded.
“Well, Chief,” the Detective paused to pant
while his boss coolly rubbed his fingertips together.
“The anonymous tip was phoned in a week ago from
1 Queen’s Hill Road. That’s from the estate of S.S.
Lee.”
226

The Gold Master
No one uttered a word, not the prisoner, nor
his lawyer, or any of the policemen, and surely not
Mr. Lee. Henry’s father only squeezed his eyes shut
to avoid the penetrating stares of everyone in the jail
cell. In his mind, all the man could see was his little
brother chasing around their parent’s ancestral
home as a kid. Could Shang Sin really hate him so
much that he would abduct Anne Mai and Henry?
“The call came in a week ago, Mag?” Chief
Hsing finally punctured the awkward silence.
The robust young detective nodded without a
word.
“That means Shang Sin tipped us off to his
accountant before we’d even released that his niece
was missing,” the Chief reasoned.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Lee,” Lineus Leung spoke
softly. “But what I’m telling you about your brother
is true. I’ll show you if we can go to his gold
reserves.”
Mr. Lee’s weary eyes fell open. “Shang Sin,
what have you done to my family?” he said gripping
the jail bars.
Chief Hsing helped prop the slumping man.
“Come on now, Mr. Lee,” he murmured. “There’s
still hope of finding your children, but we must
move quickly. Mag, I want a search and seizure writ
for Shang Sin Lee, his estate, and the entire Wu Wei
building in ten minutes.”
Detective Mag pulled a warrant from his
pocket already signed by a judge. “You mean like
this one, sir?” he said cleverly.
“That’s why you’re going to be Chief of Police
some day, Detective Mag.” The Chief smiled proudly
and snatched the warrant from his junior officer.
“Can I get that in writing, sir?” Mag wiggled his
eyebrows.
227

Chapter 21
“No,” his boss replied. “But I have another job
for you. Muster every cop on the island with a
loaded weapon. Have them report to the Wu Wei
Center in forty-five minutes.”
In the blink of an eye the young detective
disappeared up the hallway.
“Chief Inspector, do we bring the accountant
too?” Officer Chiang interjected.
“Definitely.” Chief Hsing nodded at Lineus.
“We’ll need you to clue us in the right direction when
we get there. Chiang, get some street clothes for
Mr. Leung and give him and his counsel a ride.”
“Sir, yes sir.” Officer Chiang turned and
escorted Lineus Leung and his lawyer away, leaving
the Chief alone with Mr. Lee.
“We need to go,” Chief Hsing said tapping his
hat. “Can you do this?”
“Yes. Let’s go,” Mr. Lee responded resolutely
as he jutted his proud chin.
The dark feet of the Wu Wei building were
bathed in flashing blue and red lights. Below each
of the three glassy towers, an army of police cruisers
blocked all entrances and exits. As the moon raised
full over the complex, men with megaphones
speedily directed lines of armed officers left and
right.
Detective Mag saluted briskly as an unmarked
vehicle pulled up carrying the captain of the Hong
Kong Police Department. “Chief Inspector, all our
men are in siege position and awaiting your orders.”
Chief Hsing hopped down with the assistance
of his junior officer. “Right on time, Mag.” The old
cop saluted back. “Mr. Lee and his family should be
arriving shortly, along with the accountant and his
228

The Gold Master
lawyer. See to it they meet us once we’re secure
inside.”
The men parted ways as Chief Hsing went
scuttling up a large hillside to the barricaded main
entrance. Here the Chief received a walkie-talkie and
a bulletproof vest. He then proceeded to peek
inside the huge front doors through a pair of
binoculars.
Within the superstructure appeared the bright
lights and trimmings of a grand gala about to get
underway. A throng of tuxedoed men carrying
champagne trays stood at attention, stalks of
colorful snapdragons arrayed ornate Chinese
pottery, and every corner overflowed with either
food or musicians. But what mainly concerned Chief
Hsing was Lieutenant Kang standing at the doors
with more than fifty Navy troopers in full-dress
regalia. Obviously somebody of importance was
expected tonight.
Chief Hsing signaled the charge and Hong
Kong’s Police Department pounded up the walkways
of the huge building. With riot shields drawn and
revolvers at the ready, the force burst through the
grand entryway. Before the Navy servicemen could
even raise their rifles, the Chief’s men had them all
unarmed and kneeling on the floor.
All music ceased on a harsh false note, and
the lobby fell silent. The squeaking of the Chief’s
black shoes sang out as he approached a frightened
young receptionist who was sitting alone.
“Good evening, Miss. Would you ring Mr. S.S.
Lee, please?” Chief Hsing smiled at the girl, a gaggle
of stone-faced officers at his back.
But just as she set to comply, an elevator
bleeped from down the hall and a TAP, TAP, TAP of a
cane could be heard. Shang Sin Lee stepped forward
229

Chapter 21
into a swell of staring faces, lights, and guns. “What
on earth is going on here?” he demanded, while
shifting his posture defiantly onto his cane.
“Trouble is brewing, Mr. Lee,” Chief Hsing’s
voice echoed from the arching steps below. “You
need to come downtown right now and clear some
things up.”
Detective Mag raced up behind his boss,
hurriedly ushering a train of people: Grandma and
Grandpa Chen followed by Talo, Lineus Leung and
his lawyer, and lastly, Mr. and Mrs. Lee. Several
members of the Hong Kong press core that had
been invited to cover the gala now began flashing
photos and penning a new story.
“This is ridiculous!” Uncle Shang Sin bellowed
with rage pulsing through his veins.
The Chief nodded at Mag, and the young
detective removed a set of silvery handcuffs from his
belt loop. “Mr. Shang Sin Lee,” Mag called out as he
started towards the man. “The Hong Kong Police
Department is now executing a writ for your arrest
on the charges of kidnapping a foreign minor as well
as extortion and bribery for ransom.”
“How dare you,” Uncle Shang Sin reacted,
scowling over the assembly of police and dignitaries.
“What possible evidence could you have to charge
me with anything?”
“On the testimony of your own accountant, Mr.
Lee,” Mag argued as he drew closer. “You set him
up as a kidnapper when he was going to turn you in
for embezzling gold. Why else would there be any
anonymous tip coming from your estate, about your
niece, and before it had even been reported that she
was missing?”
“My accountant is a liar!” Uncle Shang Sin
barked while seething at the mouth. “I know
230

The Gold Master
nothing about embezzled gold. He must’ve been
cooking my books. You’re going to take his word
over mine?”
Detective Mag reached for his suspect, but
Uncle Shang Sin blocked him with the dragonhead of
his cane.
“Don’t make things worse by resisting,” the
Chief called out from the foot of the steps.
“Old fool! I’m not going to let you arrest me!”
Uncle Shang Sin snarled bitterly. “I’ll have a team of
lawyers down here in ten minutes!”
“Fine. You do that.” Chief Hsing shook his
head. “In the meantime, I’m seizing this building
and auditing your gold.”
“No!” Uncle Shang Sin forbade under a knotted
brow. The man then caught sight of his older
brother standing in the crowd. “Are you enjoying
this, Ming Xa? I’m sure this was all your doing.
You’re just jealous because I outdid you. But I didn’t
take your daughter.”
“No Shang Sin, you took your brother’s whole
family!” Chief Hsing cried out and pointed.
Hobbling up behind Uncle Shang Sin came
four battered and dirty shapes followed by what
looked to be a golden toy walking all on its own.
Anne Mai, Henry, Peter, and Walsh stumbled onto
the scene whimpering just one word.
“WaTeR…”
“wAtEr…”
“WaTeR…”
“wAtEr…”
The children continued inching forward,
shielding their eyes from the bright light of the
crowd. A deep intake of breaths wheezed as
hundreds of people covered their mouths in a
collective stupor. Nobody dared to approach the
231

Chapter 21
youngsters, as if touching them might cause their
frail bodies to disintegrate like thousand-year-old
parchment.
The four waifs and Bot-Bot passed Uncle Shang
Sin (who had gone limp with shock) and at long last
reached the end of their journey – a bubbling water
cooler. Walsh and Peter tossed aside the paper cups
and attached their lips directly to the spigot.
GlUg… gLuG… GlUg… gLuG… GlUg… gLuG…
Only after the two had emptied the five-gallon
water cooler, fell onto their bloated tummies, and
belched, did the flocks of gawking adults break from
their trance. Mr. and Mrs. Lee sailed up the steps
toward their children (tailed by a half dozen officers
carrying medical kits). Chief Hsing quickly lost track
of the Lee family amidst a stream of crisscrossing
bodies, but once a pack of fleeing waiters cleared
off, he found them reunited in each other’s arms.
“Are all the children here? Are they all okay?”
the Chief asked, patting Walsh and Peter on the head
with amazement.
None of the youths had enough strength to
even speak.
“They’re all here, and they’re all okay, thanks
to you.” Mrs. Lee smiled gratefully, pouring kisses
over Henry and Anne Mai’s dirt-stained foreheads.
“What can we ever do to repay you?” Mr. Lee
added as he grabbed a tray of ice tea for his parched
children to consume.
“It’s my job, Mr. and Mrs. Lee, and my honor,”
the Chief answered humbly. “Speaking of which,
you’ll have to excuse me. I still have some work to
do tonight.” The old cop burned his gaze into the
far corner where Uncle Shang Sin stood hiding in his
collar.
232

The Gold Master
“Okay! I admit there’s a lot of extra gold! But
I don’t know where it’s all coming from!” Uncle
Shang Sin wailed as Detective Mag snapped
handcuffs onto his wrists. “You have to believe me!
I swear I never hurt anybody!”
Shutters and flashbulbs started popping
pictures so fast it sounded like a thousand
rattlesnakes all shivering at once.
But almost instantly, the rhythmic thunder of
steel-toed boots swept through the building.
Marching inside the grand entryway came two
battalions of red shock troopers, their crimson
helmets polished to perfection. It was the Chinese
regular army. From deep behind the staunch ranks
emerged a thick old Chinese man in a grayish
uniform, his chest blazing in stars and medals. A
mix of murmurs sang around the lobby like a
chilling choir, all of them repeating the same word:
President.
It was indeed the President of all of China. To
his left stood a silent council of more old men in
grayish uniforms, but to his right appeared a
beautiful woman of Chinese antiquity. Her face
tilted demurely into an emerald gown, her hands hid
neatly inside golden sleeves, and at the top, a ring
of white pearls set in a black bun of hair. It was
Uncle Shang Sin’s wife.
“My daughter invites me to a fine banquet and
what do I find – my son-in-law in handcuffs,”
announced the President fitfully. “Is this
somebody’s idea of a bad joke?”
A look of complete disbelief swallowed the
faces of every person in attendance, but none more
than the Lee family who sat huddled with Walsh and
Peter. Even Talo lowered his big head as he
hunched over Grandma and Grandpa Chen.
233

Chapter 21
Finally, Chief Hsing braved forward and
chanced a word. “Mr. President, sir. I regret to
inform you that Mr. Shang Sin Lee, your son-in-law,
is under arrest.”
At this mention, Uncle Shang Sin’s wife
gripped her father’s sleeve tightly. The President
did not budge. He only opened his hand and
wordlessly summoned Chief Hsing. With a curt bow,
the tiny Chief scampered up and placed the warrant
papers into the President’s waiting fingers. Stoically
the great man examined the documents while
reporters scribbled the latest twist in this breaking
story.
At long last, the President raised his eyes.
“Chief Hsing, isn’t it?” he uttered deeply. “These are
very serious charges. I should hope you have more
than ample proof.”
“Those four missing children were being held
hostage in this very building,” the Chief asserted and
pointed back over his shoulder at Anne Mai, Henry,
Walsh, and Peter. “We believe gold may be the
motive for these crimes.”
The President peered across the way at the
children, then back at Uncle Shang Sin. “What a
disgrace,” the President declared. “Very well, Chief
Hsing. I leave this matter in your hands.”
Chief Hsing gave a stiff salute as a driving
storm of reporters and camera shutters engulfed
him.
Suddenly, though, a deafening shrill rang out
like a cathedral bell, instantly deadening the entire
proceedings. Uncle Shang Sin’s wife stepped
forward and stiffened a threatening finger around
the lobby. Her face held serene as porcelain but her
dark eyes blazed like a forest fire.
234

The Gold Master
“My dear,” the President approached his
daughter, patting her shoulder gingerly. “It’s better
we just go and sort this all out privately.”
But with a supple flick, the woman sent her
father tumbling across the room as if he weighed no
more than a rag doll. The President crashed into a
large flowerpot and fell into an unconscious heap
upon the floor. Immediately the Chinese regular
army drew out their rifles.
“HOLD!” the Chief ordered, stooping down and
feeling the President’s neck for a pulse. “He’s all
right. He’s just out cold.” Chief Hsing looked up at
Uncle Shang Sin’s wife with total shock.
“SO THESE CHILDREN ESCAPED MY LAIR! NOW
YOU ALL SHALL PAY THE FARE!” the woman hissed
and ground her teeth venomously.
The Chief slowly stood up. “It was you? You
kidnapped these children?”
“LAND OR SEA SHALL GIVE NO REFUGE! ALL
WILL DIE IN MY DELUGE!”
“Enough rhymes. What happened to the
children of those other Taipans? Did you take them
as well? Madam, answer me!” Chief Hsing insisted.
Then it happened…
Uncle Shang Sin’s wife started rhythmically
snapping her fingertips: slowly, at first, and then
quicker and quicker. A ringlet of golden light
flashed under the skin of her throat, a plume of gray
smoke blasted from her petite nostrils, and a thin
forked tongue stabbed between her pristine lips.
With a rumbling GROWL, the woman raced
away towards a wall of ceremonial dragon banners.
A bank of overhead lights caught her silhouette as
she slipped behind the banners and broke apart
mid-stride, stretching out long and slender at the
belly. Her serpentine form rose into the air, story
235

Chapter 21
after story, until she reached the houselights,
shattering them to cast herself in shadow.
A cold chill raced up everyone’s spine as all
eyes went wide and white towards the ceiling. Low
rumbles shook the complex and a pair of glowing
eyes lit up like twin-torches. The transformation was
now complete. A living, breathing Chinese dragon
took a rangy step into the light of the chandeliers.
“The Gold Master,” Bot-Bot cooed.
She stood as gorgeous as she did horrific,
spanning a hundred feet tip-to-tail. The dragon
flashed five imperial claws on each of her four limbs,
bucked antlers that arched up like a stag, ruffled a
mane of innumerable colors, fluttered a feathery tail,
and scowled eyes round and majestic as moonlit
lakes.
Next, the beast craned its scaly neck to behold
the fullness of the multitude. Then a complete set
of fanged teeth drew out like an army of
swordsmen, and the dragon plowed forth. With each
step, the lobby wobbled. Tiles jumped and buckled.
Roof beams and rafters moaned. People blew from
her path like ants in a crosswind. The creature
parted her broad jaws and lunged to thrash Chief
Hsing. But at the last possible second, Detective
Mag tackled his boss clear of the swooping jaws.
“Hey! Over here!” the young detective baited
courageously.
But the dragon’s vengeance came swiftly, and
in a bat of an eye, Mag was easily gobbled up.
“Fire! Open fire!” Lieutenant Kang ordered the
President’s men as he fought his way through a
mass exodus of hysterical partygoers.
The red army shakily stepped forward in two
ready firing lines – one kneeling and one standing.
They took careful aim and let their rifles blaze; only
236

The Gold Master
the bullets merely ricocheted off the dragon’s
armored skin. Smoke rose from the soldiers’
useless weapons as their target reared up, laughing
with pride.
“FOOLS OF YOUR ILK SHALL BE MADE SPOOLS
OF SILK!” the dragon scoffed, smiling with bright
lantern eyeballs. She next chanted an inhuman
language of poetry, which cast upon the army a
terrible spell. A hot breeze blew through the
helpless men, and POW! Just like that, they were
changed into human ribbons of silk; uniforms, skin,
and bones all flapping like flags in a breeze.
With gruesome precision, the dragon
shredded the ribbons with razor talons, and after a
few swipes, the red army lay upon the floor in a
clutter of fabric. She then spread her monstrous
proportions and vaulted into wingless flight.
Smashing right through the grand entryway, the
serpent circled into the Hong Kong sky.
237

Chapter 22
COMMOTION FROM THE OCEAN
The city of Hong Kong lay unusually calm and
quiet, most of its people content to ease into a
pleasant late evening. A few idle bicyclists pedaled
through empty streets alight with neon. Fishermen
tucked themselves aboard their vessels for the night,
and the island sparkled peacefully in the glassy
South China Sea. But something stirred in the far
corner of the sky, as a mayhem of spotlights
streamed from the Wu Wei Towers.
On the boulevards below the massive building,
mazes of screaming sirens, crisscrossing lights, and
teeming mobs of panic ensued. A terrified Hong
Kong police force ran zigzag in every direction.
Some scanned the stars with their pistols, searching
for any sign of the horror that had vanished into the
night.
Amidst the ruckus, Chief Hsing found himself
doubled over and choking on all the rubble raining
down from the demolished Tower One entryway.
But just as the Chief battled to his feet he was
knocked right back down again by a panicked
Lieutenant Kang.
238

Commotion from the Ocean
“Where’s the President?! Who’s got the
President?!” Kang babbled frantically, his eye still
lavender from the bruise Detective Mag had given
him that day at the docks.
“Kang!” Chief Hsing shouted, smacking the
young lieutenant across his other eye. “Look!” The
Chief gestured towards a huddled pack of men who
were quickly escorting someone into a motorcade of
black limousines.
“Mr. President!” Kang exclaimed wildly.
The President looked up woozily before his
aides piled him inside an official limo covered in
little red flags.
Kang waved his arms in vain as the train of
vehicles all peeled away in a blur of taillights. “Mr.
President?! What’re your orders?!”
“He’s gone!” Chief Hsing blurted out
indignantly.
Kang collapsed into the turf and ground his
fingers into his head. “I need orders! I need orders!”
“Get a hold of yourself, Kang!” Chief Hsing
insisted. “I just lost my best man. I need your help.
Join your men with mine. We’ll make a stand.”
Kang did not respond at first, but only looked
around, shocked and indecisive.
“Lieutenant!”
“Yes. Okay Chief,” Kang finally answered.
“Give me an order.”
The two men struggled back up to their feet
and darted off to rally their troops.
Not a moment later, Henry’s father emerged
coughing and wheezing. “ANNE MAI!” AcK!
“HENRY!” GaG! “XIO XING!” he called out
desperately for his missing family. “HENRY! ANNE
MAI! XIO XING! ANSWER ME!”
239

Chapter 22
“We’re here, Ming Xa!” a woman’s voice
choked weakly near the side of an overturned police
cruiser. Mr. Lee rushed over. Here he discovered
his wife cradling their daughter on the ground, while
Talo sheltered Grandma and Grandpa Chen under
the protection of his muscular frame.
“Oh thank heavens,” Mr. Lee slumped down on
his knees and held his daughter in his hands. “I
couldn’t find you. I thought I’d lost you again.”
“What happened, Papa?” Anne Mai murmured
softly to him. “What happened to her – to uncle’s
wife?”
“I don’t know, Mai Mai,” her father said
truthfully. “All I know is…” suddenly he broke off
and stood up straight. “WHERE’RE THE BOYS?!”
“OH NO!” Mrs. Lee jumped up, too. “HENRY!
WALSH! PETER! I THOUGHT THEY WERE WITH YOU,
MING XA?!”
“I COULDN’T FIND ANYBODY IN THERE!” Mr.
Lee cried.
The family instantly broke out in chorus:
“HENRY!”
“WALSH!”
“PETER!”
“PETER!”
“WALSH!”
“HENRY!”
They all began to drift apart, trying to catch a
glimpse of one of the boys.
However, Mr. Lee smartly came to his senses.
“Wait! We’re only going to lose each other this way!”
he implored. “Okay. This is what I want to do. Mr.
Chen, please help me find the boys. Talo, you take
them home.” Mr. Lee motioned to his wife,
daughter, and mother-in-law.
240

Commotion from the Ocean
The bodyguard nodded his head, and without
delay, plopped the three ladies atop his massive
shoulders as though they were little birds.
“WAIT! NO! PAPA! DON’T!” Anne Mai
protested as Talo strode off into the packs of fleeing
bodies.
Her father and grandfather watched as the
giant carefully plodded away with the women.
When they were all well out of sight, Grandpa
Chen turned to his son-in-law. “How ‘bout I take the
southern exits and you continue searching this
area?” he offered.
“Thank you.” Mr. Lee forced an appreciative
smile. “We’ll meet back here in ten minutes and if
we haven’t found them by then, we’ll go check the
dockyards.”
“Agreed.” Grandpa Chen nodded. “Don’t
worry. We won’t lose them again.” And with that,
the old fisherman shot off into the barrage of noise
and flashing lights.
Mr. Lee closed his eyes and massaged his
forehead for a brief minute of sanity. When he
reopened them he, too, waded into the madness,
determined to find his son.
Smoke and cement dust still billowed out of
the crumbling remains of the Wu Wei entrance. Mr.
Lee hacked and covered his mouth with a
handkerchief as he pressed forth. Nothing made
sense inside all the haze. All he could make out
were the outlines of people stumbling and tripping
in the backwash of searchlights.
“HENRY LEE! PETER! WALSH!” he cried
furiously upon reaching a wide causeway. The man
looked up into space, silently pleading for help.
Suddenly, he found a familiar face staggering
amongst the lost – his brother. “Shang Sin! You’re
241

Chapter 22
alive!” Mr. Lee hugged his twin tightly. “Have you
seen the boys? Have you seen Henry, Peter, or
Walsh?”
“This is all your fault, Ming Xa,” Uncle Shang
Sin fell down whimpering at his brother’s feet.
“What? Now’s not the time for this,” Mr. Lee
said as he knelt down and held his brother’s head in
his hands. “HAVE – YOU – SEEN – THE – BOYS?!”
”Everything’s always your fault…” Uncle Shang
Sin kept sniveling, wiping his eyes with his
handcuffs.
Mr. Lee peeled his brother off the ground and
slumped him on his back. “Come on. Let’s get you
to an ambulance,” Henry’s father groaned.
Just as the two started off, a mighty shadow
swept overhead, creating a gale so powerful it blew
everyone backwards.
The dragon banked hard off the summit of the
Wu Wei Towers and sped over the face of the sea,
trimming the masts off several boats. With a
monstrous GROWL, clouds began to gather near the
edge of the wharf, appearing out of nowhere. Winds
howled and brooded as the creature whipped about
like a cyclone over the water.
Dark thunderheads twisted in the sky, and
when the storm looked ready to burst, the dragon
soared straight upwards.
A thick supernatural shadow showered down
from her glittering green body and she weaved it
over the skyline like an unholy rainbow (swallowing
the moon whole). The city fell dark, and the
islanders clutched each other in the blackness.
All faces upturned to witness the churning
tempest where the dragon had flown. Some hoped
she had simply gone away, others prayed for the
protection of Tin Hau. But booms of laughter broke
242

Commotion from the Ocean
from the heavens as the dragon executed a barreling
nosedive right into the gut of the ocean.
The impact the serpent made created a tremor
that unleashed a tidal wave, which arrived ashore
with a crest as high as a skyscraper. The swelling
flood crushed into the side of the city, dusting any
unanchored persons into oblivion. The screams of
drowning victims howled from high seawalls, their
thrashing arms and legs whipped and beaten by
pounding seawater.
The dockyards were cleaved under the weight
of hurtling boats. Ships were tossed about as if they
were mere playthings in a bathtub. Power lines
snapped and sent blistering electrical surges
spewing into the night. Houses, houseboats, and
small seaside businesses splintered under the
pummeling waves like matchsticks.
But at last, the water swayed back into the
grave of the deep, content to pull a few last
stragglers off into the darkness with it.
A pair of lasery, talon-rich claws landed atop
two capsized frigates to survey the damage.
Shaking the water from her dripping scales, the
dragon beheld the flickering downtown of Hong
Kong and licked a forked tongue over her teeth.
With a WHOOP, the beast set off in flight once
more, streaking low into the heart of the city. Roars,
like those of a thousand lions, shook the
foundations of the island, shattering the glass out of
several high-rises. A tail strike split the earth, and a
rolling quake rocked the landscape, instantaneously
claiming several large buildings as dust and ash.
Apartments ripped in half down the middle,
leaving pipes bursting, mothers clinging to their
babies, and in one instance, a gentleman hanging
from his shower. As the bather struggled to pull
243

Chapter 22
himself to safety, he did not see the towering visage
slowly rising behind him. SLURP! The unfortunate
soul slid between two razor-sharp jaws and into the
boiling chamber of the dragon’s belly.
Just a ways up the street stood the proud Bank
of China. Within its lobby, a nightshift manager
tried frantically to alarm the doors while peeking out
the window. Dropping the keycard twice, and
botching the password at least three times, the man
finally got the building secured… or so he thought.
Perspiring badly, the fat-suited man waddled
over to his desk with a heavy sigh. Meanwhile, an
eerie hush fell over the bank. Looking up, the night
manager saw an enormous marble statue of Buddha
jiggling. Clocks fell from the walls, chairs tipped
over, and blasting through Buddha’s giant belly
charged two devilish eyeballs.
When the bank came crumbling down, the
dragon shot skyward once again. Her appetite for
destruction hardly satisfied, she now took to cutting
down the Ocean Park cable cars, which dangled high
over the South China Sea. After several casualties,
the dragon perched gracefully atop one of the Ocean
Park buoys to survey her handiwork. Then, puffing
her wide chest full of air, she soared off to punish
the rest of the island with some typhoon winds.
Pass after pass, the creature wound around
the city, blowing whips of wind from her swollen
cheeks. Cars, trucks, and bicycles swirled in the air
like feathers caught in a gentle breeze, then came
plunging back down upon the heads of innocent
victims. However, by the fifth straight pass, the
island prepared to fight back.
“OPEN FIRE!” Chief Hsing commanded from the
tips of his shoes.
244

Commotion from the Ocean
A battery of black tanks began shelling the
monster with heavy artillery. Next, a rumpus chorus
of attack choppers cut loose with their mini-guns.
Lastly, Kang signaled his fleet of gunboats, and
together, the combined forces blistered the night in
bullets.
While not all shots struck home, enough did to
send the dragon sprawling into the Hong Kong
Harbor with a trumpeting wail. THUD! GLUB, GLUB,
GLUB! Her giant figure sank into the wavy abyss as
the dockside broke with uproarious cheers.
But Chief Hsing looked on warily. “KANG!” the
Chief squawked into his walkie-talkie above all the
hoots and hollers.
“I READ YOU CHIEF! GO AHEAD!” cried the
Lieutenant’s voice on the other end.
“ORDER YOUR PILOTS TO AIM A MISSILE STRIKE
WHERE SHE WENT DOWN!” Chief Hsing requested as
he plugged his ears with his fingers.
“YES SIR!” came the quick reply. Within
seconds, the helicopters hovered directly overhead
and launched a full spread of rockets into the black
depths. Geysers of water exploded into the air,
soaking all the men and causing even heartier
applause.
A full minute passed. Nothing stirred under
the tides. Even the millions of bubbles fizzled out.
Chief Hsing eventually loosened his smile and joined
in the celebration with a fist-pump. But the battle
was far from won.
Behind all the officers and soldiers loomed an
old water tower that provided fresh water to dozens
of ocean-side apartments. The rusty silo warped,
wobbled, and unexpectedly blasted its top in a
column of steam. Like a cave of hissing snakes, the
245

Chapter 22
water inside the rickety tower began to BOIL – BOIL –
BOIL!
All the ovations ceased as the men spun to see
a frightening, worm-like shape slinking from the vat.
Trickling veins of gold dribbled down the serpent’s
chest, and revenge glowed under her knotted brow.
The Chief courageously jumped into the open to
challenge her to a duel, but she had other ideas.
Once more, the dragon began chanting in
rhyme. Her blood became streams of liquid gold
that ran the course of her entire body. In mere
seconds, every scale hardened into gilded armor and
she soared into the raucous heavens like a golden
star.
“CURSE THE MOON!” Chief Hsing cried out,
fearful that his attack had only unleashed an even
worse wrath. The clouds over his fair city rocked
and rolled as the dragon enthroned herself inside a
ring of purple thunderstorms.
A deafening lull swallowed the air. No one
knew what to expect next for the creature delayed
her return. However, what followed could not be
believed. It began snowing in Hong Kong. SNOW!
Cold blustery winds whipped over the island, and
soon, no less than a foot of fresh powder caked
across the subtropical downtown.
Some islanders were elated, rounding up
snowballs and tossing them at one another without
a care in the world. Others saw this as a cataclysmic
sign, and indeed, they were correct for the snow
kept falling. Soon a fully formed blizzard froze half
the city, piling heaping drifts upon the roads and
blanketing the area white. But the worse was still
yet to come.
Flickers of yellow and gold light popped and
burst from inside the overcast sky where the dragon
246

Commotion from the Ocean
took her refuge. Frosty airstreams began funneling
in the midst of the storm, creating a vacuum of ugly
bruised clouds. Suddenly, out of the blackness,
golden bolts of electricity issued forth.
Tentacles of energy ignited the night,
showering the hapless city in a colorful rain of heat.
Homes, skyscrapers, and trees – anything the
lightning touched melted into rip-roaring flames.
The driving snowstorms collided with the lightning,
triggering flashfloods of melted water, and
threatening to split the very foundations of Hong
Kong.
At last, the dragon swept from her fortress of
clouds, spitting yellow voltage from her jaws. Her
wingless body snaked and reeled overhead, red
blazes reflecting in her metallic scales. The monster
then hardened her heart for one final task – sink the
entire island to the bottom of the sea.
247

Chapter 23
THE THROAT RING
Deep inside the Wu Wei Towers sat three large
Chinese vases. The vessels, which were from the
ancient Ming Dynasty, adorned the thirteenth floor
of Tower One. However, something about this
pottery seemed strange. The vases quibbled back
and forth in high-pitched, childlike voices.
“You think the coast is clear now, Henry?”
echoed Peter’s voice from the first vase. “Henry?”
Peter popped his fuzzy head out of his vase and
peeked inside the middle vase.
No one was there.
Walsh’s head then peeped out of the third
vase. “Hey, where’d he go?” he wondered aloud.
Walsh and Peter hopped down (managing to
chip the priceless urns in the process) and stalked
around numerous office cubicles, hoping to find
their missing companion.
“Henry…” they whispered together in the dim
shadows, “Henry where are you?”
They found the boy standing silently alongside
Bot-Bot at a corner window overlooking the city.
With his mouth agape, Henry watched the scene
unfolding outdoors, snowflakes fluttering along the
248

The Throat Ring
windowpane. “Snow…” he mumbled as his friends
came by his side. “It’s snowing in Hong Kong.”
“Is that unusual?” Walsh wondered.
“We’re in the subtropics, genius.” Peter
scowled sarcastically. “Come on Henry, we should
get out of here and find your dad before we get in
BIG TROUBLE.”
“Petey, I think we passed BIG TROUBLE a long
time ago,” Henry calmly reminded as the dragon
sailed over the ocean in a frenzy of violent golden
light.
“I know. But she seems busy right now, so at
least the coast is clear. I mean, your family might
think we died or something if we stay up here,” Peter
contended.
“Buttums is probably right, Henry,” Walsh
agreed.
Henry finally nodded, surveying the bedlam
outdoors with unblinking awe. “Okay. We’ll go,” he
responded softly, and the children and Bot-Bot made
off for the elevators.
But just as they all scuttled into a wide marble
hallway, Bot-Bot halted. “Whoa! Gold your honors!
Gold! Tons and tons of gold!” The robot shivered
excitedly.
“Uh oh, not again…” Peter moaned as Bot-Bot
sprang down a darkened sideway.
SPOING, SPOING, SPOING!
“Come on,” Henry sighed as he, Walsh, and
Peter gave chase.
“BOT-BOT!” they all clamored together. “BOT-
BOT! YOU COME BACK!”
The pitter-patter of metal footfall echoed just
ahead of them, never slowing one bit. In panting
exhaustion, the boys rounded countless dark
passageways. After what felt like miles of nothing, a
249

Chapter 23
glowing yellow blur began swelling in the distance.
Soon the glow grew and grew until it had become a
blinding doorway of golden radiance. Here they
found Bot-Bot’s miniature shadow bathing at the
foot of the light.
The robot did not move at all. He only stared,
obviously transfixed by something inside. Waving at
him from the shadows did no good. He would not
budge. His masters quickly got fed up and headed
straight into the light to fetch him. But as soon as
Henry, Walsh, and Peter saw inside the adjoining
room, they too froze in place.
Before them was a mountainous steel lock that
had perfect circular edges and a width no less than
ten feet across. Several others of equal size also
encompassed the area, creating a cavernous ring of
steel doorways. But only this one stood open – wide
open. Behind the vault glittered hillsides of golden
treasure.
“This is it. This is the place we saw that night
on camera,” Peter stammered.
“Welcome to my birthplace, your honors,” Bot-
Bot announced proudly. “Here, I first saw the Gold
Maker.”
“Incredible,” Walsh said, rubbing his chin as he
moved towards the entrance. Peter and Bot-Bot
instinctively followed, but Henry held back upon
seeing a number of handcarts that were spilling over
with gilded office furniture. Each cart sat outside
the vault as though somebody were stockpiling
them, and in that instant, a familiar voice came
floating out of the treasury singing a frolicking tune.
Gold is for the bold I’m told, I’m told,
rolled into a mold and sold, and sold.
But young and old love to hold, and hold,
250

The Throat Ring
so let the earth be trolled, and trolled.
Henry raced inside the vault and grabbed his
friends before either stepped into the open. “Shh,”
he warned them. “It’s Sheshen.”
Indeed, it was he. As the boys peeked over a
heaping yellow pile, they saw him: fat, happy, and
conceited as he loaded up five more handcarts full
of riches. The children immediately jumped back
out of view.
“Let’s get out of here,” Peter gulped. “If he
finds out we’re here – he’ll kill us.”
“Yeah, especially if he knows we told the
minotaur about him,” Walsh admitted.
“No,” Henry refused. “We can take him. We
have to. If anyone knows how to stop a dragon, he
will.”
His schoolmates pondered this for a moment.
“What we need is a plan to get him to help us.
Anyone have any ideas?” Henry solicited.
Sheshen hummed cheerfully to himself as he
loaded a last handcart with pounds of sparkling
trinkets. The blubbery man finished the chore and
was about to haul the load away, but before he
could take a step, Walsh jumped into the open –
alone.
“I bet you thought I’d be dead by now,” the
boy said in a challenging tone.
“Oh bless me. Hello, hello peasant,” Sheshen
broke into a toothy grin. “Well, this explains how
the minotaur found me so quickly.” He raised a
plump finger from his pearly robes and pointed into
a far corner. There, the shaggy severed head of
Rammus lie upon the ground, lifeless eyeballs
locked open.
“You killed him?” Walsh shivered.
251

Chapter 23
“Oh yes,” Sheshen responded surely. “He got
lucky once in catching me, but this time I had a little
ambush ready for him. Speaking of ambushes,
where are your two…”
“YIEE!” Peter came sliding down a slope of
gold, tossing handfuls of assorted treasures from
overhead. Golden table legs, chairs, shelves, and
small bookends plunged through the air, but
Sheshen moved like a cat parrying all shots with
ease.
“YARR!” Henry charged from the opposite
hillside, he, too, hurling precious office furnishings.
However, this second wave of attacks also failed as
Sheshen caught every single piece in just one hand.
“Hah! You’ll need to be a lot faster than that!”
the big fellow mocked. “Here now! I’ll show you!”
and in a blur of movement, he snared both Peter and
Henry into his hefty arms.
“Let ‘em go!” Walsh stamped his foot defiantly.
“Come here, you fool,” Sheshen commanded
the boy, squeezing his two captives tightly.
“No chance, fat man.” Walsh stamped his foot
again.
The villain unsheathed his dagger and pressed
it against Peter and Henry. “COME – HERE – NOW!”
Sheshen raged, slobbering his spittle everywhere.
“Okay. Okay.” The blonde surrendered, raised
his hands into the air, and slowly walked over. When
Walsh reached Sheshen, the beefy man snorted and
swung his dagger high over his obese head.
“And now, childrens, close your eyes and
prepare to sleep,” he said, parting his gums in a
deathly smile.
“That’s funny,” Walsh suddenly quipped with a
grin of his own. “I was just going to tell you to do
252

The Throat Ring
the same thing.” Walsh immediately ducked down
and Bot-Bot fired over his back like a golden missile.
SPOING! With enough spring-loaded force to
leap twenty feet, the robot blasted Sheshen BAM-
SMACK in the middle of his forehead. Pitch-black
stars twinkled and blinked inside the man’s brainpan
as he splattered backwards onto the floor (Henry
and Peter fleeing from his grip).
“Ouch, ouch, ouch. “Wha, wha, what
happened?” Sheshen sniveled, feeling a puffy lump
rising above his eyebrows. He then tried to readjust
his eye-patch only to stick his fingers into an empty
socket. Darting upright, the woozy villain saw his
hands withered, his limbs starchy, and his pearly
robes blackened and ragged.
“Did you lose something?” Walsh pitted his
perfect dimples as he wagged Sheshen’s dagger in
the air.
Peter and Henry stood proudly with their arms
crossed, Bot-Bot whirring behind them with a
dazzling green pearl wedged in between his claws.
“THIEVES! THIEVES I SAY!” the transformed old
man whined in his familiar high shrill.
“Easy, Mister,” Henry said calmly. “We have
one last bargain for you. If you do it, we’ll return
this to you. If you don’t, then Bot-Bot’s going to
chuck that pearl straight into the ocean.”
“Wait! You’ve no idea what you’ve got there,”
Sheshen warned them.
“That doesn’t matter – you do. Now are you
ready to listen?” Henry asked bravely.
“You tell him, Henry,” Peter squeaked.
Sheshen rubbed his bruise once more and
agreed with a difficult grunt.
“Good.” Henry nodded cautiously. “Then get
out there and stop that Dragon Lady.”
253

Chapter 23
Sheshen fell back into spastic fits of laughter
upon hearing this request. “HA – HA – HA – HA –
HA! I see you found the dragon’s secret hiding place
after all,” he declared clutching his sides. “Foolish
peasants. I may have been able to help you when
she was still a woman, but only a dragon can match
a dragon. Now let’s forget all this nonsense. Why
don’t you boys help me grab some of this gold
before she comes back and melts it all down into
ingots.”
“No deal. Bot-Bot go toss his pearl off the end
of some pier,” Henry ordered.
“Stop!” Sheshen pleaded. “The only way a
mortal can slay a dragon is to THROAT the beast in a
certain spot; on a ring of discolored scales around
her neck. That’s where her power lies.”
“Sounds good. Now get out there and get
started.” Walsh rudely directed him towards the
doorway.
“I told you before, childrens, no weapon can
prevail unless it has been enchanted by the dragon
you intend to slay. No other metals can pierce her
armor or withstand her breath,” the cloaked figure
explained with frustration.
“But you said Bot-Bot was changed like the
Singing Sword of Old. You can use him,” Peter fired
back.
“What?! I must object, your Honors!” Bot-Bot
said fearfully.
“I just made all that stuff up. Besides. That is
no dragon slaying weapon.” Sheshen threw up his
bony arms.
“Your honors! I must renew my objection to
the court’s decision!” Bot-Bot appealed once again.
Walsh shoved the tiny robot aside and strutted
forward. “I’ve had enough of you, old man,” he
254

The Throat Ring
fumed. “Now listen up. You better get out there
and try something pronto, or else in three seconds
your pearl is history. ONE… TWO… THR…”
“Very well, childrens, very well. I will accept
your bargain,” Sheshen bemoaned. “But I’ll need
your help.”
The dragon scissored through the heart of
Hong Kong like a rampaging jumbo jet; her metal
teeth gnashing, golden claws gashing, and armored
tail smashing. Half of the city roiled in flames, while
the other half sat beached under snow. But
suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she spied
something. A gushing rainbow of water sprouted
from the Wu Wei Towers. It was the water cannon.
Furor rippled across her monstrous features.
Who would dare frolic amidst all her destruction?
Who would dare challenge her vengeance? The
dragon immediately plunged beneath the fiery sea
and swam off to investigate.
From the seventieth story, Sheshen clutched
open a red lever, hydraulic pumps blasting water
from the cannon’s sixteen-inch nozzle. In a far
corner, Walsh, Peter, and Henry formed a protective
ring around Bot-Bot, who held tightly to the old
man’s gem.
Sheshen scowled at them from under his ratty
cloak. “You know I could use your eyes right about
now,” he winked from behind a control deck.
“Maybe one of you fine, honest childrens could step
over to that window and sneak a peek.”
“All right, but no tricks,” Peter answered as he
carefully wiggled up to some portholes that were
overlooking the South China Sea.
Nothing appeared on the horizon other than
cannon spray. The redhead wiped droplets of mist
255

Chapter 23
from his thick glasses and tried again. Still he could
see nothing.
“Anything there, Big Boy?” the old man called
out.
Peter turned and shouted back irritably.
“Mister, there’s nothing out there! Your plan
obviously isn’t…”
“RUN!” Sheshen exclaimed abruptly. “RUN
CHILDRENS! RUN!”
Peter spun around and his mouth dropped
open. Henry and Walsh scooted over for a look, too.
Like a statue being raised from a deep sunken city, a
shadowy column climbed from the tides a mile from
shore. Even at this distance, the dragon’s vision
locked onto three small heads bobbing on the
seventieth floor window of Tower One.
Sheshen slowly closed the red lever and the
cannon sputtered to a drip. At first the monster did
not move, playing at a showdown. But then with a
rumpus SPLASH, she climbed into the air and bore
straight towards her prey. In a fit of desperation,
Sheshen sprang from the platform and tried to drag
the boys away. Only he arrived too late… BA-BOOM!
The dragon veered hard and slammed into the
first tower at near breakneck speed, her sleek
metallic body disappearing into the lower levels in a
mushroom cloud of glass and granite. Tiles bent,
lights flickered, and shattering vibrations jarred the
spine of the complex. Water gushed through broken
pipes causing deep puddles upon the floor.
“What’s she doing?! I thought you said we’d
be safe up here!” Peter shrieked, now soaking wet up
to his ankles.
“I haven’t seen a woman this mad for a long
time!” Sheshen squawked, slipping and tripping. “I
256

The Throat Ring
think she means to bring down her own house – with
us in it! Come on!”
They all fled into the hallway and sprinted for
the elevators at the far end. Sheshen led the way
just like old times, Bot-Bot bounding along in the
rear. Cracks ripped open under their feet as loud
BOOMS folded the lower levels of the tower.
Electrical cables broke from the ceiling and sparked
along the floor like ravenous eels.
“Jump!” Sheshen instructed as he nimbly
vaulted over the hissing cables.
Walsh, Peter, and Henry also managed the
feat, and their robot hurdled over with two flips and
a twist.
Everyone piled onto the elevator and away
they went. The ride down lurched along with more
hiccups and burps than an upset baby. Sounds of
twisting metal and exploding concrete reverberated
all about. Paint peeled from the walls and the lights
died. But at last, the doors opened on the first floor,
and the team shot through the abandoned lobby
(remnants of the coin fountain and the shredded red
army still strewn everywhere).
Tower One then gave a deafening GROAN and
a bulging cloud of dust collapsed through the
ceiling.
Sheshen cocked his head upward. “IT’S
COMING DOWN! FASTER, CHILDRENS!” he cried.
The boys’ last drop of adrenaline kicked in,
and they sped for the open starlight. Through the
demolished entryway they tore, as plumes of falling
debris crashed on their heels. Story upon story
pancaked together until all eighty-eight levels of
Tower One mashed into a great pothole in the earth.
Sprinting at full tilt, Sheshen, Walsh, Henry,
Peter, and Bot-Bot pierced a haze of soot, and
257

Chapter 23
collapsed near a sprawling outdoor pool. Colorful
fountains squirted playfully in the air and a happy
tune played through outdoor speakers.
“GAD ZOOKS! How much you wanna bet that’s
the last time you’re ever gonna’ see that happen
again!” Peter panted.
“Yeah. Well. I’d say you got her attention
anyway, Mister,” Henry choked painfully.
“Maybe she’s dead! Maybe she got buried
under all that rubble!” Walsh chirped.
“Not a chance,” Sheshen grumbled. “So we
better not stay out here in the open for too long.”
The group gathered their breath, cleaned their
faces of dirt, and crept stealthily towards Tower Two
(dead silence haunting the empty neighborhood).
They reached the last leg of the long water
garden, its fountains still sprinkling merrily. At the
foot of Tower Two swept a new fan of granite steps.
But before anyone could clear the first stair, a vile
head leaned around the corner of the
superstructure. The dragon promptly scaled the
side of the building as nimbly as a lizard up a tree.
“Don’t move,” Sheshen murmured as he
braced the youngsters behind him. “She may not
have seen us.”
“HARK! FOUR FOOLS BY A POOL! AND LO!
SOME GOLD THEY STOLED!” the beast hissed in a
thunderous temper.
“Would you care to revise your statement?”
Bot-Bot asked Sheshen in a tiny voice.
The dragon began to fill her huge lungs with
sweeping gusts of wind.
“Quick! Grab hold of something! She’s
planning a mega-strike!” Sheshen cried. He, the
boys, and their robot raced back to a ring of cherry
blossom trees that encircled the water garden.
258

The Throat Ring
Whizzing air funneled in the night, tugging
and tearing at everything. The youngsters locked
their elbows around three tree trunks. Hovering off
the ground, their bodies twisted like kites in a
tornado, and just as their little fingers could hold on
no longer, the vacuum ended and they fell down
harmlessly.
“Listen now, childrens,” Sheshen whispered
from his hands and knees. “You and your little
contraption go draw her fire into that manmade
lake.”
“What?!” Peter objected hostilely. “Dude.
Henry and I are in upper division science. Okay.
Water and electricity don’t mix.”
“Go now, or I kill you myself!” The old man
kicked Peter squarely on the rump.
With no time to think, the boys and their robot
went splashing across the water fountains.
Instantaneously, a downpour of golden voltage
chased from the dragon’s jaws. The bolts sizzled
the shallow waterway, cooking it into a boiling
cauldron. Walsh, Henry, and Peter high-stepped
their way to the far edge of the pool, diving out just
as the wave of electricity arrived.
Sadly, Bot-Bot was a bit slower of step inside
the water, and found himself ejected out of the
fountains like a cannonball. He struck a signpost
and slid down headfirst. At the same time, the bolts
of energy banked back over the surface of the
waterway.
On the other side, Sheshen sat waiting with a
wise smirk. “Let’s just see how foolish you are, my
lady,” he mused as he grabbed a fountain spigot
molded to the edge of the pool. Bending it
backwards, Sheshen redirected the powerful waternozzle
straight at the dragon.
259

Chapter 23
Sizzling currents rode the spout right out of
the pool and clobbered the monster as she clung to
the building-side. Like a giant superconductor, the
dragon’s metallic body pumped billions of watts into
the middle of Tower Two, destructing it like
dynamite. Down it came in a mighty shaft of ash
and vapor.
“MISTER SHESHEN!” the three boys clamored in
one mighty yelp.
The old man had vanished below the
wreckage. Several minutes drifted away like smoke
over the ocean, and a stark reality set in: Sheshen
must not have survived.
“What’re we going to do now?” Peter sniffled.
But nobody could answer him, because no one
had any idea what to do next. They had come to
Hong Kong to win a robotics tournament, not to
battle a dragon bent on destroying skyscrapers. The
three never felt more frightened or alone than at
that moment. They were just ten-year-olds after all.
“I say we run,” Walsh finally spoke up. “I say
we just get the heck out of this place.”
Henry and Peter agreed wholeheartedly. In
fact, this was the best plan they’d ever heard. They
grabbed their dizzy robot and tore off in a mad
dash. The boys ran aimlessly through the streets.
Balloons of soot and debris mucked the landscape,
making it impossible to know where they were
going.
At length, the starry skies opened up again,
and the children saw a monorail track vaulting some
forty feet over their heads. Suddenly, a single yellow
eye opened in the darkness.
“Oh peachy! It’s her!” Walsh freaked.
Yet only a train wobbled across the track,
crushed, charred and melting in flames.
260

The Throat Ring
Peter could not help giggling a bit. “You
should’ve seen your face, Walker. You looked just
like my little sister.”
“Real nice, Pickle. Did you ever think that
maybe everyone’s dead?” Walsh griped under his
breath.
“Don’t call me Pickle, Walsh. Only my mom
can call me Pickle,” Peter protested.
Henry massaged his aching forehead. “Come
on you guys. We should just get…” suddenly Henry
stopped mid-sentence.
A faint noise sounded above them… SKRITCH
– SKRATCH – SKRITCH…
Peter pointed his pudgy nose skyward and
went even more pale than usual. SKRATCH –
SKRITCH – SKRATCH… two sets of shiny claws now
grappled the underside of the monorail track. Walsh
pressed a finger to his lips and gestured back
towards the last standing Wu Wei tower. Both his
friends batted their eyelashes in harmony and they
all began to tiptoe away.
SKRITCH – SKRATCHITY – SKRITCH… the noise
skulked after them, and the boys’ pace quickened to
a light jog. SKRATCH – SKRITCHITY – SKRATCH… the
jogging sped up to a race of footsteps. SKRITCHITY
- SKRATCHITY – ROAR! The dragon’s huge metallic
head swiveled into the open.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
Carrying Bot-Bot, Walsh, Henry, and Peter ran as fast
as their little bodies could carry them, never once
looking back. But fatigue rapidly overtook them and
they doubled over with exhaustion. Tower Three
stood no more than a hundred paces ahead. The
city ablaze reflected inside its thousand panes of
golden glass.
261

Chapter 23
Then a new reflection drew from the
landscape. The Chinese dragon methodically rose to
her fullest height in the middle of the Wu Wei
Boulevard, throwing out her arms as if to brag. In
her rage, she had grown immensely, and was now
standing eye-level with the last tower. The three
little figures and their robot seized this opportunity
to take cover (the Tower Three entryway having been
left wide open in all the panic to escape).
Once indoors, the group spread out inside a
darkened fashion mall. Henry immediately nabbed
Bot-Bot and hid behind a rack of garments. This left
Peter and Walsh staring at a huge shadow slithering
outdoors. The two quickly shuffled under some
dressing rooms. Together, they crept hand-and-foot
until they hit the back wall.
“This is it – end of the line,” Peter whispered
urgently.
“I know, Buttums… whatever happens… I love
you man,” Walsh confessed as he draped an arm
around his companion.
Peter raised his eyebrows awkwardly. “Good
Gravy, Walker. I only meant this is the last changing
room. Go find your own hiding spot.”
“Right. Okay. Fine.” Walsh slinked away and
left Peter cradling himself alone.
An eerie silence made the next few seconds
feel like hours. A faint light shone beneath the crack
of the dressing room doorway. Peter bit his lip. TAP
– RATTLE – TAP! Something slid by, passing in front
of the light.
Peter held his breath and bundled himself
tightly against the corner. Tears began to bead in
the boy’s eyelids. TAP – THUMP – TAP! The door
creaked open and a head stuck inside – a blonde
one.
262

The Throat Ring
“Hey. I think something’s moving out here,”
Walsh relayed in an excited hush. “Can’t I just hide
in here with you, Petey?”
“Get lost,” Peter demanded and kicked the
closet closed again. “Stupid Walshy,” the redhead
exhaled loudly and wiped his eyes in frustration.
TAP – THUD – TAP! The door gently swayed
open once more.
“I TOLD YOU…”
A colossal pair of golden metallic jaws
ruptured the doorway. Wood from the dressing
booths splintered like toothpicks and gobs of
garments and clothing blasted everywhere. Peter
rolled right through the wall and landed in a heap of
stockings. As he pulled the hosiery from his
freckled face, a great claw reached for him.
“Hey lady, remember me?” Walsh’s voice
caught the dragon’s ear.
She spun away from Peter. Walsh took the
dagger he had earlier confiscated from Sheshen, and
pried off one of the metal scales from her tail.
RRRRRRROOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAARRRRRR!
The monster rocked and wheeled in furious
pain. When she found Walsh and Peter again, they
were re-united atop a second level of escalators.
Henry stood with Bot-Bot on another escalator to the
far side of his friends, forcing her to pick her
targets. However, this creature had a clever plan of
her own.
She dispatched her tail up one escalator
(preventing any escape that way) and issued her
head up the other. This tactic sent her prey
scrambling together into the middle. The three boys
and their robot were trapped. The beast’s split
tongue stabbed through a wide grin of gnashing
fangs as she gathered herself in a coiling pose.
263

Chapter 23
Abruptly, though, a voice cried out from the
first floor. “Puny dragon!” Sheshen called from the
steps below.
“THIEF! FESTERING PILE OF DUNG! THIS TIME
I’LL RIP OUT YOUR TONGUE!” raged the monster.
“Power’s made you arrogant, my dear.
Tonight you shall be humbled,” Sheshen defied.
“INDEED!” she countered, and withdrew back
downstairs. The escalators now clear, Henry, Walsh,
Peter and Bot-Bot scurried to rejoin Sheshen.
“The weapon. Hurry.” The old thief snapped
his fingers at the boys as they scampered up to his
side with their little robot.
Henry glared at him distrustfully, then looked
back at Bot-Bot, who was still clutching the man’s
green pearl.
“No! Your honor, please!” Bot-Bot pleaded.
“Trust me. We’ll never get another chance at
this,” Sheshen insisted.
As Henry hesitated, a now all-too familiar
sensation whizzed through the building. Gales of
wind sailed toward the dragon’s heaving chest,
tossing clothes racks and coat hangers in every
direction. Everyone wrapped themselves around a
set of pillars near the tower entryway, and held on
for the ride.
“THROW THE WEAPON IN!” the one-eyed man
shrilled. “THERE’S A GOLDEN RING INSIDE HER
THROAT! HE’S GOT TO RIP IT LOOSE! RIP IT LOOSE,
I SAY!”
“NO SIR!” Bot-Bot cried, but Henry let go.
The robot tumbled in the air like a golden
acrobat and soared into the dragon’s gaping jaws,
just behind a broken mannequin. With a great
CRASH, the vortex ended and all hovering matter
came flopping back to the floor.
264

The Throat Ring
“HERE, YOUR MAJESTY! HERE I AM!” Sheshen
shouted at the dragon. “SEND YOUR STORM DOWN
UPON ME!”
The boys did not wait around to see what the
old man had planned next; they disappeared out the
doors and into the night. This time the three did not
stop, even though their feet wobbled and hobbled
down the street.
Behind them, the superstructure sparked and
rippled like a tinderbox, as yellow voltage poured
out onto Wu Wei Boulevard. Golden panes of glass
plunged to the sidewalk below, while concrete and
black marble ignited the sky. In a sonic BOOM, the
final tower of the Wu Wei Center sunk into a sea of
spiraling gases.
A sulfurous cloud swept over the boys as they
ran. Gasping and coughing, they fell flat in the
middle of the road, their faces now dark as coal.
When the children finally lifted their heads again, it
appeared as if they were staring into the gates of
eternity. Where once three towers stood larger than
life, now only a smoldering pock in the earth
remained.
“They did it…” Peter murmured softly.
Henry stared timidly into the void. “I hope so.”
But no sooner had these words escaped his lips
when something shifted under the rubble.
Without a scratch, the gold-plated serpent
burst from the ruins of her lair.
“We can’t win,” Walsh whimpered.
“I don’t care!” Henry answered him boldly.
“Let’s get out of here! Get up you guys! Get up and
run!”
Even though their muscles felt like jelly,
somehow the boys staggered up and continued
running. The dragon caught their scent instantly,
265

Chapter 23
her eyes narrowing into vengeful slits. Driving
skywards, her magnificent form spread out for one
last pass. Picking up speed, she stretched her lungs
to their fullest.
Walsh, Peter, and Henry reached the wharfs
and fell over a high stack of fishing crates. All
around them, scores of fishermen were battling the
fires that baked the waterfront.
“H, H, HELP US!” the battered youngsters
pleaded together.
The men turned to see a snaking shade
closing low on the horizon. The dragon arrived in a
streak of hate, her chops foaming with currents of
energy. But in that split-second something
happened – something not even the dragon herself
could have foreseen.
Deep inside the fleshy walls of her throat, Bot-
Bot clung to a solid gold band, hanging on for dear
life. It looked like some kind of ring. It was a throat
ring, and it sparked brightly with bolts of electricity.
The tiny robot clutched Sheshen’s green pearl tightly
in one claw, and pulled with all his strength using
the other. Amazingly, the thing ripped loose. At
once, the ornament shrank, and fell into Bot-Bot’s
possession.
The dragon’s eyeballs shot open. Instead of a
meteoric blast of lightning, all that fired from her
mouth was a tubby little robot and a weak gag of
smoke. The beast went limp and spasmed out of
control, her tail catapulting into the fishing crates.
Every mouth dropped open as her body rolled across
the South China Sea, then detonated into waves of
shimmering gold.
Bubbling tides of ore spewed over the shores
like magma, painting every fishing boat, bicycle, and
car priceless yellow. Wafts of homeless fishermen
266

The Throat Ring
cheered, scooping bucketfuls of steaming riches
right from the sea. Rapture broke out. The
islanders rejoiced. Hong Kong was safe. But there
was no sign of the three boys. Only particles of
broken boards floated in the waters beneath the
docks.
267

Chapter 24
A TEA CEREMONY
Anne Mai sat at her grandparent’s tiny kitchen
table over a pot of tea. The tea was now over an
hour old and very cold, but still she stirred her cup.
Sunbeams broke through the living room window
causing the girl to squint her big bronze eyes.
Morning had finally come.
Why didn’t I hold on to Henry better last night?
The teen thought to herself expressionlessly. But
everything happened too quickly. I couldn’t. One
minute he was standing right next to me. The
next… uncle’s wife…
“Mai Mai?”
“Yes, Gung-Gung?” Anne Mai answered
Grandpa Chen with a startled jolt.
“I’m going out to search for the boys again,”
he said, brushing his granddaughter’s long bangs
with his thick workman’s hands. “Your mother and
your a-poh-poh are in the bedroom praying. I think
they’d like you to join them.”
Anne Mai nodded with tears and a fragile
smile. Grandpa Chen left the girl to her untouched
tea, shutting the front door behind him. The tiny
sea-house went quiet once more. Both her father
268

A Tea Ceremony
and Talo were already searching, and all the police
officers had to leave on account of the city being
declared a disaster area.
Anne Mai shut her eyes and again her mind
drifted into dreams of Henry. Then, for a second
time, she snapped from her daydreaming. A clammy
hand clutched her ankle. Before Anne Mai could
even scream, a twisting mass of dark robes came
scrabbling through the floorboards.
“There. I thought he’d never leave.” Sheshen
spun around opposite Anne Mai and sat down. He
calmly plopped his green pearl back into his empty
eye-socket. Instantly, the man’s bony body
exploded with fat and he changed into his blubbery,
middle-aged self.
Anne Mai made a quick strike for the
telephone, but a beefy forearm blocked her.
“Tea. Don’t mind if I do,” Sheshen said
pouring himself a cup.
“All I have to do is scream, Mister,” the
teenager warned him.
“Ah, ah, ah – not if you ever want to see those
boys again,” the intruder grinned.
“You know where my brother is? You didn’t
hurt him, did you?”
“Never,” he remarked.
Anne Mai wrinkled her eyebrows suspiciously.
“Why are you here?”
“I came to return this.” Sheshen reached into
his transfigured pearly robes and placed Bot-Bot
down on the table. “I found him wandering about
after last night’s excitement.”
“A thief who grew a conscience. I don’t
believe you. What do you really want?” Anne Mai
asked again sharply.
269

Chapter 24
“All right. All right. I wish to be friends. To
make amends for my behavior.”
“I’m just a peasant girl to you, remember?”
“I’m only asking you to share a simple cup of
tea with me. Right here. Right now. One teensy
weensy tea ceremony,” Sheshen offered courteously.
“You want to have tea after everything you’ve
done?” Anne Mai shook her head.
“Yes. Then I’ll take you to your brother and
his friends. Safe and sound.” The man gave her a
friendly little wink and tapped the teapot with his
long, painted fingernail.
“Fine,” she answered after a lengthy pause.
“Excellent. Now…”
“I know how a Chinese tea ceremony works,”
Anne Mai interrupted him sternly and took up her
own teacup.
Sheshen bowed his head apologetically.
The two tapped their cups three times in
midair, sniffed deeply, and sipped. Then they
exchanged their cups, repeated the ritual, and raised
their drinks to their lips for a final sip.
“To friendship,” Sheshen smirked.
Anne Mai hesitated and stared nervously
across the table. Bot-Bot twittered on the tabletop
as if trying to say something using robotic body
language, but Sheshen pounded him on his golden
dome. Anne Mai swallowed the last of her tea.
“Mai Mai!” her father’s voice cried out from the
doorway.
“Papa, look!”
But Sheshen was gone, his teacup jiggling on
the edge of the table. Anne Mai looked left-andright,
up-and-down.
“Mai Mai. Look who I found in the emergency
ward,” Mr. Lee declared.
270

A Tea Ceremony
In came her little brother atop their father’s
shoulders. The boy sat covered in plaster: two
broken arms, a fractured ankle, and a bandaged
head. Yet, despite all of it, he beamed at his big
sister from ear-to-ear.
Next, Talo marched in with Peter bound in his
arms. Anne Mai cupped her hand to her mouth.
The redhead resembled some kind of mummy: two
busted arms, four bruised ribs, two cracked femurs,
and a concussion. In fact, he would have been
unrecognizable, except for a thick pair of glasses
that covered his two gauze eye-patches. But
nonetheless, Peter giggled too.
Lastly, Walsh stepped through the door under
his own power, totally free of injury, save for a fresh
dressing over his right shoulder.
Anne Mai ran up and gently stroked Henry’s
face. “What happened to you three last night?” she
giggled through her wet eyelashes.
“Oh you know, Mai Mai, the usual,” Henry
replied.
“We got to sleep in a hospital,” Peter
announced blindly.
“Seems some old fishermen found the three of
them circling under the docks and pulled them to
safety,” Mr. Lee mused to his daughter.
Bot-Bot then scurried over to the children,
hopping up and down like a puppy wanting to be
held.
“You found Bot-Bot?! Unbelievable!” Walsh
shouted.
At that moment, Mrs. Lee and Grandma Chen
sprinted into the living room.
“Oh, my goodness! Look at my poor baby!”
Mrs. Lee exclaimed as she carefully pulled her
battered son into her arms. Tears of both joy and
271

Chapter 24
sorrow burst from Grandma Chen’s eyes as she, too,
huddled around Henry.
“But, but, but what happened to them?” the
old woman whimpered. “And, and, and shouldn’t
they be with some doctors?”
“Yes. They should,” Mr. Lee agreed with a bit
of a sheepish look. “Only the wards are all packed
with emergencies. I figured the boys can see
specialists when we’re safely home.”
“You’re leaving? Now?” Grandma Chen
murmured weakly.
“I’m sorry, ngoihmou. Yes. I have a lot of
explaining to do to these boys’ families, though I’m
not sure what to say exactly,” Mr. Lee admitted.
“Anyway. I called my pilots. The airport’s cleared us
to fly, and believe it or not, this is the last day of our
trip.”
Everyone stared at one another in shock.
Could the entire trip already be over? Had it really
been a week-and-a-half? It had. The weight of
everything suddenly sank in. Would home still be
home when they got back? What would everyone be
talking about? Did anyone in Hampshire Hills even
know? Finding herself feeling faint, Anne Mai sat
down on the sofa.
Grandpa Chen came dashing through the front
door. “Boys! You’re safe!” But then he quickly saw
all the miserable faces. “What happened to you
three last night?”
“They’re leaving today,” his wife answered
glumly.
Grandpa Chen’s face drooped and he fell
seated next to Anne Mai. The family room went
silent for a minute.
272

A Tea Ceremony
Then out of the blue, Walsh sprang to life.
“Hey! If today’s the last day of our trip, that means
we haven’t missed the judging yet!”
“What?” Mrs. Lee wrinkled her tiny nose.
“The Robotics Expo,” Walsh explained. “We
missed all the week-long events, but the last day is
when they judge the national-level winners.”
“No Walsh. There won’t be any competition,”
Mr. Lee stated surely. “Besides you three need to
rest.”
“But I don’t understand. This is why we came,
isn’t it?” Walsh protested. “Please, Mr. Lee! Bot-Bot’s
going to win for sure! I’m begging you!”
“No. I’m sorry,” Henry’s father offered
consolingly. “Talo and I will load everyone’s things
in the car. Then we’ll have just one more stop to
make before we’re off for the airport.”
“Man! Nothing in my life ever goes right!”
Walsh kicked in a tantrum and stormed out of the
living room.
Mr. Lee puckered his lips. “It’s never easy with
that boy, is it?” he sighed.
By eleven o’clock sharp, the Chens’ old
Mercury came sputtering up to the Lees’ ancestral
palace at 1 Queen’s Hill Road. Several taxicabs were
parked along the gates out front. Mr. Lee exited the
vehicle and gestured for his family to stay put.
“I won’t be long,” he said and disappeared
between two forbidding statues.
Henry’s father breezed up the pathway inside,
passing many servants as he did. They were all
leaving the estate, carrying heavy loads of moving
boxes. As the man opened the front door, an eerie
quiet lay across the mansion. Mr. Lee stepped
lightly towards the ancestral garden. When he
273

Chapter 24
arrived, he saw that all the stalks of snapdragons
were shriveled.
“Hello, dear brother,” muttered Uncle Shang
Sin. He was kneeling at the family shrine, twiddling
his dragon-handled cane between two handcuffed
wrists. “It was a gift from my wife on our wedding
day, you know?” he said of the cane in a remote
voice. “And now, it’s all I’ve got left in the world.”
Mr. Lee sat down next to Uncle Shang Sin and
fixed upon the little portrait of their father. “You
still have your family, Shang Sin,” he said
determinedly. “Come back to America with us. I’ll
help you rebuild your life.”
“Ming Xa, the benevolent Taipan. Our father
would indeed be proud. No. I’m sure the police are
going to insist that I stay. Although. I’m not sure
they can charge me with anything other than poor
choice in women.”
“I need to ask you something, Shang Sin,” Mr.
Lee whispered in a sober voice. “How much did you
know about your wife – about everything she was?”
“Humph,” Uncle Shang Sin scoffed loudly.
“Talo! Bring me some tea! Blasted! Where is that
oaf?!”
Mr. Lee sighed. He then rose to his feet.
“Sorry, Shang Sin. You’ll have to fetch your own tea
from now on. Talo’s decided to come live with us.”
And with that, Mr. Lee departed and left his younger
brother alone.
A few minutes later, the Chens’ old Mercury
chugged along an empty city block and headed
towards the airport. Nobody spoke. Anne Mai
gently held Henry’s hand while Peter kept Bot-Bot
hushed in his lap next to Talo. Walsh brooded in the
back seat, grumbling ever so often to himself.
274

A Tea Ceremony
“Where is everyone?” Grandpa Chen said at last
from the driver’s seat. “It’s like six million islanders
vanished from the face of the earth.”
The family pressed their faces to the windows
for a better look. Not a soul could be seen on any
corner, in any alley, or along any side street.
Grandpa Chen then veered left at a lonely stoplight
and abruptly slammed on the brakes.
It was a sight like no other. Streets of gold.
Everywhere, there were streets of gold, and
countless islanders were working to chisel it out.
The dragon’s golden body had sprayed riches over
the city for miles. It did not matter that every
neighborhood for blocks lay in smoking embers.
Fire hydrants, telephone poles, and even chunks of
rubble were now worth a fortune.
The family stumbled from the car and ogled in
outright amazement. Who could have ever foreseen
anything like this? Ragged widows, toothless
fishermen, and scores of bone-thin children all
hauled armloads of gold together. At that moment,
the noonday sun rose high in the sky, and the
streets flushed yellow. Rather than a vision of
death, Hong Kong radiated like a dream of paradise.
Walsh staggered forward. “Did this all happen
last night?” he wondered, the light dancing in his
blonde hair.
Mr. Lee came alongside Walsh and placed an
arm around his shoulder. “You see, my boy. Just
when life seems most unfair, somehow things
balance, and good repays evil.”
A faint ocean breeze tickled Walsh’s face and
brought a hint of joy back to his cheeks. Suddenly,
he felt someone tugging at his sleeve. An adorable
little Chinese girl held up a newspaper and a pen.
275

Chapter 24
“What’s this?” Walsh asked, looking at the
paper.
“Why, it’s the noon edition of the South China
Morning Post.” Mr. Lee chuckled. “I think she
expects you to give her an autograph, young man.
Look.”
Under the bold headlines followed a large
photo of Walsh, Henry, and Peter being rescued by
fishermen the night before.
“Wow! It’s me! I’m famous!” Walsh beamed
proudly and signed the girl’s newspaper (using his
off-hand). Only as soon as he finished, another one
tapped him, and then another, and another. Walsh
quickly found himself surrounded by cute little girls
holding out things for him to sign.
The new celebrity had just signed his fifth
autograph when Mr. Lee caught sight of something
in the distance heading their way. It looked like a
dark parade of people, toting cameras,
microphones, and antennas. They all pointed at
Walsh while screaming out questions at the top of
their lungs.
“Come on!” Mr. Lee grabbed Walsh urgently.
“But I’m not through, sir. These are my fans.”
“Now!” Mr. Lee thundered. “Everyone, into the
car right away!” and he dragged the ten-year-old off
kicking-and-screaming.
“You’re not my agent! Hey! Let me go! Let’s
get some of that gold first! We’re going to be rich!”
Grandpa Chen got the engine started just as
the ravenous pack of reporters arrived, pounding on
the hood, and demanding an interview. The old
Mercury peeled away, shooting up clouds of backfire
into the media’s face, then tore off for the airport.
276

A Tea Ceremony
At two o’clock high, Mr. Lee’s jet soared into
the sky bound for San Francisco, while Grandma and
Grandpa Chen waved tearfully from the tarmac. Ten
minutes into the flight, the entire cabin snoozed fast
asleep, except for Anne Mai and her father. The girl
sat in silent contemplation, watching Mr. Lee read
the paper over a kettle of tea.
“Can you believe it, Mai Mai?” the man said,
aware of his daughter’s attention. “Over a hundred
people claim to have home videos of the dragon’s
attack.”
“Monsters are only metaphors, remember,
Papa?” the teenager smirked playfully.
Mr. Lee raised his eyebrows comically. “They
used to be anyway.” He folded the newspaper under
his armpit. “So Mai Mai, what do you feel like when
we get home? Whatever it is – you name it.”
Anne Mai stared out her window at the glassy
blue ocean far below. “I feel like going swimming,”
she finally answered.
Her father rocked forward and held her hands.
“Perfect,” he grinned proudly. “Sounds perfect.”
Anne Mai turned her head down shyly and
closed her eyes. Golden sunshine glowed across her
face. Indeed everything was perfect – everything
except for that raw tickle in her throat.
277

About Mister Rengerz
(Here pictured on a dragon expedition)
In addition to his rigorous duties as a
globetrotting dragonologist, Mister Rengerz and his
wife, Anchella, also teach elementary school in
Gilroy, California (the garlic capital of the world).
The author wishes to express his gratitude for
reading his debut novel. Please feel free to drop him
a letter if you enjoyed the read.
rengerz@ringdragonz.com

Keep an eye out for
the heart stopping sequel to