‘Marianne and I planned to follow the same route as Papa: Canton to Kunming, then overland into Yunnan. There was one berth available on the fast clipper so I took advantage of it, while Marianne stayed on the older, slower ship. We were to meet in Likiang. But my journey was plagued with bad luck. Poor weather and then engine issues resulted in multiple delays. My clipper was diverted from Hong Kong to Shanghai. On top of that, a paranoid group of passengers made feeding difficult and tiresome. When we finally disembarked in Shanghai, I was hungry and irritable. I could not find suitable lodgings, nor a decent establishment to feed discreetly.’ Maximilien drops his head. In a whisper, he says, ‘I ended up following a young man who looked weak enough not to fight back.’ He swallows. Marianne mimics his pauses and change of tone when she translates. ‘Unfortunately, he... he turned out to be the son of a minor minister of Tian.’
Mémère’s glare could have cut glass.
Ah Lang speaks into the silence. ‘You tried to feed from Lord Yun, the son of Lord Lei. Lord Lei is one of the most powerful and important deities of Tian, who also happens to be a very dear friend of the Jade Emperor.’
Marianne pauses in her translation, closes her eyes and shakes her head at the last revelation, before continuing her quick rattle of French.
‘How was I to know?’ Maximilien spits. ‘He didn’t carry himself with any authority, nor did he dress as I would expect of a Celestial. He looked like a ragged beggar.’
A pinch of embarrassment crosses Marianne’s face as she flips between French and Mandarin, ensuring the truth is known to all.
‘Maximilien!’ Mémère’s tone is a whip. ‘How could you pollute House Durand with such base behaviour?’
‘They overreacted,’ Maximilien mutters.
‘That is the reason,’ Ah Lang continues, in the pause after Marianne finishes translating, ‘the Pantheon of Tian issued a ban on vampires.’
Mémère turns to Marianne, and snaps a question at her. Marianne frowns. Her answer drains the anger from Mémère’s face. The older woman sits dazed for a moment; with a soft exhale, she leans back in her chair, her normally straight back softened to a slight curve.
When Mémère looks at Maximilien, it’s as if she’s seeing a stranger.
‘Did you even get a chance to ask about your papa?’
‘They wouldn’t have spoken to me anyways. They made a huge fuss.’
‘How could you lie to me all these years? I taught you, trusted you, took your counsel. We...’ Mémère swallows; her gaze darts to Gigi then me, then away.
The others listen rapt to the rapid-fire exchange conveyed via Marianne’s words, but my attention is divided, occupied by the possibility that my father might really still be out there, that I might have the chance to meet him.
‘Actually,’ Ah Lang says, ‘you told all the ministers who came to speak with you that they were beneath you, and that we should “learn to see true superiority and grace” as exemplified by your person.’
Marianne actually gasps at this – and stares at her brother. It’s only when Mémère raps smartly on the arm of her chair that she translates.
‘I never . . .’
‘I remember quite clearly you saying I was abridé chinetoque mangeur de chien.’
I didn’t know Ah Lang knew any French, and the way Marianne exhales, her face twisted with disbelief, means she understood what he said. But she doesn’t translate.
Mémère clearly understands too, for she stares at her grandson with open-mouthed horror. ‘Dis-moi que ce n’est pas vrai.’ The words are barely a croak.
Only Gigi and I have no idea what he said, but from everyone’s reactions, it’s nothing good.
Maximilien’s gaze darts from face to face and he is momentarily shamed into silence.
‘He’s lying,’ Maximilien finally splutters. Marianne translates, leaning away from her brother as if he’s something vile and nasty.
Ah Lang laughs. The sound is devoid of humour. ‘As I understand it, vampires have preternatural senses. You can smell if I’m lying, no?’ He waits until Mémère acknowledges his point before continuing. ‘I recall very clearly that you tried to bite me when we came to Lord Yun’s defence. We bundled you back onto a clipper and returned you from whence youcame.’ He inclined his head in Mémère’s direction. ‘Abundant apologies, venerable Mémère, for burdening you with such ugly truths. But to stand any chance of successfully petitioning the Jade Emperor, you should know the whole story.’
After Marianne finishes her translation, there is a long silence. Mémère’s eyes are closed, and her chest rises and falls as if she’s trying to catch her breath. When she opens her eyes again, they are stained with blood.
She makes her way around the silvery lump of dead vampire at her feet, accompanied by theclackof her walking cane and stops before us where she slowly, gracefully, lowers herself to her knees.
I do not miss Maximilien’s gasp, nor the revulsion in his voice. ‘Mémère!’ He follows with a stream of protest. I don’t need to understand to hear the censure in his words. She turns towards him, regarding him not with chagrin, but a cool detachment. Shaking his head, he wheedles and whines like a begging child until he seems to accept she will not be moved. He slumps, falls silent, eyes red, quite pathetic.
I almost feel sorry for him. Almost, but not quite.
She speaks, each word ringing with inexorable command. Maximilien jerks back like he’s been slapped then rushes to her side, stumbling as he goes, before dropping with a thud to his knees. Marianne joins them without a word.
