The Sins of Nightsong. V. J. Banis

when we reach the sea a ship is going to take us across the water to your grandmother’s big house in San Francisco.”

      “Will she let us stay?”

      “Of course she will.” At least I hope so, April said to herself, remembering the hard feelings that had existed when she abandoned everyone in Paris.

      Under the command of a young lieutenant, a contingent of Marines, about twenty, were lining up in front of the arsenal when April noticed Eddie motioning to her from the doorway to the storehouse.

      He hurried her inside where a soldier was hitching a team of horses to a canvas-covered caisson, attached to which was a small cannon.

      “Inside with the both of you,” Eddie said cheerily. “I’ve thrown in some blankets and pillows to make the ride as comfortable as possible, but don’t expect luxury.”

      “A munitions wagon?” April asked, hesitantly.

      “A decoy. There aren’t any weapons or ammunition inside. The Marines are picking up a load in Shanghai. The cannon is just for effect. If the Chinese decide to harass us, seeing the cannon might give them pause to reconsider.”

      He took Adam out of her arms and lifted him into the wagon. As he helped April in he said, “The caisson hasn’t any springs so I hope you two don’t get too knocked about.”

      “Just so we get away.” She hugged him. “I’ll be only too happy to arrive black and bruised.”

      “I’ll be riding alongside,” Eddie said as he pulled on his slicker and motioned to the soldier that they were ready to move out.

      April settled herself and Adam in a mound of blankets and pillows as the wagon started off. Through the flap she watched the Marines in their ponchos step out briskly, seemingly ignorant of the icy rain that slashed at their faces.

      When they started through the Tartar wall, passing the red stone lions that flanked the gateway, Eddie motioned to the open canvas flap. “Better close yourselves in until we are through the city. We wouldn’t want the old witch’s spies getting a look at you.”

      April did as he asked, but deep down she had a feeling that the Empress already knew what the caisson was carrying. She only hoped the contingent of Marines and the cannon would discourage any attempt to interfere with the journey.

      With the canvas closed tightly, the inside of the wagon grew hot and breathless. April listened as the rain increased to a steady downpour. As uncomfortable as she was, she was glad for the shelter.

      Outside she heard the noise of the city, the chattering merchants, the clip-clop of the wooden sandals on the cobblestones. Though they were moving at a snail’s pace, she and Adam were shaken and jolted from side to side. Every now and then the caisson gave a terrific jerk as the wheels hit a rock or sank into a pothole.

      By the time they left Peking, April was certain she would never be able to survive the trip. Once they reached a safe distance, she told herself, they would get out and walk.

      Unfortunately, they never reached a safe distance. Sometime after noon, as they passed through a small bedraggled village, the lieutenant called a halt to eat and rest.

      Eddie climbed into the wagon and handed April a knapsack of rations. “Strictly Marine fare. Hardly food for a princess.” He grinned. He tied back the flap and allowed a breeze to waft into the dank interior. “The rain stopped,” he commented.

      The fresh air felt heavenly. Just as April was about to ask if he thought they were safely away there was a commotion outside. Too late, Eddie started to draw the canvas flaps closed.

      “We want the woman and boy,” April heard a Chinese officer say to the Marine lieutenant.

      “This is an official United States government party. You have no right to interfere or demand anything of us.”

      It was as if the Chinese officer had not heard. “We will take the woman and the boy. The Empress commands it.”

      Eddie jumped down from the wagon. “Command all you like,” he said coldly. “Any rough stuff and your Empress will get a taste of American retribution.”

      “Please, no trouble.” It was a girl’s voice April heard as she crawled to the back of the wagon and looked out.

      April saw the familiar face of her stepsister, Mei Fei, who sat astride a milk-white mare. Her hand rested on her officer’s arm, restraining him as he reached for the hilt of his sword.

      “Mei Fei!” April gasped. It had been almost four years since she had seen the girl, but there was no mistake that it was she. Though she was no more than thirteen or so, she had already blossomed into a lovely and regal-looking woman.

      When she saw April the girl smiled broadly and spurred her animal toward the caisson. “April!” she called. “How wonderful to see you again.”

      April’s pleasure at seeing her stepsister faded when she realized why Mei Fei was here. “It is so good to see you again, Mei Fei. I only wish we were meeting under different circumstances.” She saw Mei Fei look crestfallen. “I assume you are here on orders from the Empress.”

      “Yes,” Mei Fei admitted sadly.

      “And if I refuse to come back with you?”

      Eddie interrupted. “What do you mean, if? You are not going anywhere but with me to America.”

      The Chinese officer drew his sword. The Marines quickly reached for their weapons. A second later a new wave of Imperial soldiers came out from the stand of trees on either side of the roadway. There were at least a hundred of them, April saw, all with drawn swords and murderous looks.

      The young Marine lieutenant unsnapped the holster of his side arm. “I will remind you again, sir, that this is an official United States government party. We will not be interfered with.”

      They were hopelessly outnumbered and April knew the young lieutenant’s courage would only mean his death. In his eyes she saw that he, too, knew it.

      “Wait!” April called as the lieutenant drew his pistol and backed toward where Eddie and his men had grouped beside the caisson. “There will be no slaughter on my account.”

      “We are taking you to Shanghai,” Eddie said. “Get back inside, April.”

      “You are not taking me anywhere if I refuse to go. Be sensible, Eddie. There are ten to our one. You may kill a few, but they will kill all of you.”

      “They wouldn’t dare,” Eddie answered, keeping his eyes fixed on the Chinese officer.

      “They would, believe me. I know my people,” April assured him.

      “We’re Americans.”

      “That makes no difference to them. They’d kill their own relations if the Empress commanded it.” She motioned at Mei Fei. “This girl is my stepsister, the daughter of Prince Ke Loo, heir to the throne of China.” To Mei Fei she said in English, “If I refuse to return with you to the palace and manage to escape with these soldiers, what is your punishment for returning to the Empress empty-handed?”

      Mei Fei shifted uncomfortably. She shrugged, finding she could not look at April.

      “Tell the gentleman, Mei Fei,” she insisted.

      “My head would be forfeited.”

      “I thought as much,” April said. She looked at Eddie. “There, you see? And Mei Fei is the Dowager Empress’s favorite.”

      Eddie gaped. “She’d cut off the girl’s head?” he asked with a shudder.

      “As she cut off my husband’s, and he, too, was a favorite for a while, having killed a man who had attempted to assassinate the Empress. That was the reward she paid him—the executioner’s block. Don’t you see, Eddie, that my people aren’t like yours? We are taught to obey the Empress regardless of what she demands, even if it means giving up