In the pavilion closest to the forest, Lord Black sits with his feet, and the hem of his tattered brown robe, dangling in the water.
‘Lord Black!’ I call out.
He waves cheerily. Once Fisherman Lo has secured his sampan to the dock, we disembark.
Lord Black greets Lord Aengus warmly. To my vampire family, he even speaks a smattering of French. He pats my hand as I climb onto the dock. Tony, he regards for a little longer than usual. Finally he bows and says, ‘This one of the North Sea arrives before you unharmed.’ He doesn’t wait for introductions. ‘We must hurry.’
Only Tony and I have been to Turquoise Hills. I worried Tony would be uncomfortable, given that the last time he was here he nearly died at my grandmother’s hands. But he seems to be managing well. The others follow us, mouths gaping as we pass pavilion after pavilion. The hulijing pause when they see us, curious until they see me, at which point they scurry away. Even Max gapes at the hulijing, his eyes like saucers and his head swivelling to and fro.
‘Marianne,’ I say, ‘you need to warn your brother not to mess with the hulijing. They will drain him of his qi and leave a withered husk.’
She translates for me in a low voice. He glances at me, as if to say,I don’t believe you.
I shrug. Let him find out the hard way, then.
‘Why won’t they come and say hello?’ Lord Aengus asks. ‘Do I have something on my face? Have I become hideous and monstrous?’
‘What would you do if I said yes?’ I say.
Lord Aengus pats his face and body as if truly worried, but he can’t keep up the act and breaks into giggles. ‘I know you’d be lying because’ – he runs a hand down his body – ‘who would be able to resist this virulent, beautiful god?’ He waves at a passing hulijing and waggles his brows. ‘Hello, how’re you doing?’
The hulijing giggles behind her water sleeve, but then she recognises me and, like the others, scurries away.
‘They don’t like you, Lady Jing,’ Lord Aengus correctly deduces. ‘Why don’t you cover your head with a bag.’
‘I thinkyoushould cover your head with a bag, Mr Cultural Exchange. Or’ – I smile sweetly – ‘perhaps you’d prefer a vase?’
‘How very dare you,’ he huffs, but there’s no real bite to it.
By now we’ve arrived at the Hall of Preserved Harmony and Lord Black leads the way through the huge wooden doors into the massive hall.
Painted golden foxes frolic across wood ceilings held up by two columns of stately golden silkwood pillars. In the centre of the room on a dais, surrounded by silk pillows, my grandmother Niang Niang reclines on a rosewood throne. Her bosom, tightly encased in a plummy silk gauze, gleams almost as much as the silkwood. Her handmaids, similarly dressed in variations of plum, pink and peach silk robes, ta-tas near bursting out of their dresses, stand in two rows either side of the dais.
‘Yoohoo, dear Sister Niang,’ Lord Black says, waving a frayed sleeve.
Niang Niang holds out a hand to inspect her nails, her ring and pinky fingers encased in imperial jade nail guards. ‘Dragon,’ she says in a bored drawl, not bothering to look up, though I catch the angry rise of her chest. ‘What brings you uninvited to my palace?’
‘Visiting,’ he says pleasantly.
She spends some time admiring her nails before deigning to lift her head and grant us her attention. ‘I see you brought friends. Queen Mother of the West’s favourite, Lord Aengus, we meet again, and so soon. You look much... inflated,’ she finishes with a mean curl to her lip. ‘And my granddaughter’s mortal pet—’ Tony stands tall, holding his ground. Niang Niang gives him an odd look, wrinkles her nose. Her gaze moves to the Durands. ‘I know that stink.’
‘Grandmother, it’s always a pleasure,’ I say. ‘Allow me to introduce you to my paternal grandmother, Aliénor de Durand, my half-brother Maximilien and half-sister Marianne. They have come all the way from France to pay their respects.’
I give Mémère the nod. She steps forward and bends into a low bow. Max misses my cue since he’s gaping at the handmaids, so Marianne yanks him into an appropriate bow.
Marianne says, ‘Esteemed Niang Niang, we have travelled far to bask in your glory and ask a question of you: we are looking for a demon hunter’s shrine. Can you tell us where it is?’
Niang Niang smooths out imaginary wrinkles on her dress. ‘Very presumptuous to show up uninvited and demand I entertain your idle curiosity. I have no idea what you’re talking about. You can show yourself out.’ My dear grandmother turns away, expecting us to comply.
Marianne says, ‘Venerable Niang Niang, before we take our leave, let us show you the gifts we brought from France.’
She gestures to Mémère, who steps forward and starts to unbutton her dress. I frown. No one said anything about stripping.What in Tian?
Lord Aengus watches with casual interest, while Tony keeps his eyes focused off to the far right. Lord Black smiles pleasantly, hands clasped behind him.
Mémère’s black dress pools around her feet, revealing luminous dewy skin, paler than tofu, white as fresh snow, so smooth and even it looks almost lacquered. A pale pink lace bra adorned with ribbons and frills makes her breasts seem impossibly round and pert; matching underwear, cut high, accentuates long, shapely legs.
Niang Niang’s eyes go round with envy. There is admiration in her gaze.
