Read Online The Conclave of Shadow by Alyc Helms - Free Book Online

Chinese, but also Korean and a few laowai like me – faced off in sparring pairs. With his bleached-and-dyed hair – fire red and purple these days – he might look like an escapee from FanimeCon, but there wasn’t a better sifu in Chinatown. Johnny had to have noticed me coming in, but he paid me no mind. He passed between the rows of students offering correction and encouragement.
    I frowned at Johnny’s back as I pulled off my boots and stuffed them in one of the few open shoe cubbies. He was never this nice to me in our training sessions. My corrections usually came with my cheek pressed to the mat and his knee pressed into my spine. Encouragement was provided by not wanting to end up with a mat burn permanently reddening my cheeks.
    I knelt by the mat as the class progressed, watching. Learning. If Johnny was feeling ornery, he’d test me on one of the forms he was reviewing.
    I cultivated patience as the class ended and the students dove in to their various cleanup duties, sweeping the mat, cleaning the mirror and the windows looking out onto the street. In pairs and threes they finished up their chores and drifted out. It seemed like every damn one of them needed to talk to Johnny, and Johnny seemed in no hurry to move them along. Finally, the last student – a teen boy with more bone than muscle – bowed at the edge of the mat before shoving on his shoes and kwoon jacket and pounding down the stairs to catch up with his friends.
    Johnny snapped his towel at me to get my attention. “Took you long enough to come by.”
    Whatever patience I’d cultivated fled. I hadn’t slept enough to put up with this nonsense. “Excuse me for being in Argent custody all night.”
    Johnny wiped his face, stepped off the mat, bowed, and tossed the damp towel in the laundry bin. “And you came here looking to take it out on someone?”
    â€œI came here looking for my kids.”
    Johnny sat in lotus, knees nearly touching mine. Like Jack, he’d only learned about Mei Shen and Mian Zi after my return – my second return – from China, but we hadn’t talked about them. I was pretty sure he was pissed at me for keeping certain details of my first trip a secret. If having it out now with Johnny was the price I had to pay to make sure my kids were safe… sure. I’d pay that. This silent staring contest, on the other hand…
    â€œI know you must know where Mian Zi is, at least. He would have had to pay his respects to you when he arrived. If not for himself, then for his people.” Mian Zi had taken over the People’s Heroes, China’s state-sponsored version of Argent. With a population of over a billion and a culture not as steeped in rationalist dogma, China had a respectable pool of gifted individuals to draw on. Only the best made it into the People’s Heroes, but even the best owed respect to the Masters who predated China’s Mao-induced surge into modernity. Like the City Guardians. Like Johnny.
    â€œHe did. Two days ago. He was supposed to move on to New York today.”
    I groaned and ran my nails over my scalp. It still ached from a night in braids and wig. “Do you know where they were staying?” I couldn’t believe that Mian Zi had moved on already. Not after last night’s attack. Not when all the action was here.
    Johnny looked down at the floor, then back at me, mouth twisted in an odd smile. “You really can be dense sometimes, Masters.”
    I opened my mouth to protest, but shut it at his next question: “Why didn’t you tell me about them? Three years you’ve been back, and I know something gutted you in China, but… kids? With one of the Nine?”
    â€œSurprise,” I muttered. I hadn’t said anything because I’d wanted to avoid this very conversation. Even after three years, the pain of walking away from Jian Huo and my kids…
    I couldn’t look at Johnny.