Time slowed to a crawl in the glacial prison. The fox could count the seconds as he was locked in place from head to toe, the cold spreading across his body and making every single strand of fur stand up straight against his shirt and pants. He looked around with his eyes, taking in the similarly frozen forms of his backup and the Scarf's protection, three people on each side. It had to be below freezing in the prison, but the cold wasn't harsh. It didn't bite into him like a strong wind from a Shuigang winter. Though he could hear his teeth chattering, it was a light sort of noise, like static on the television. It wasn't a violent chattering that put all his instincts on alert, made him want to huddle up in front of a heater until the cold passed. The cold just…was, in the same way a square had four sides. It was perfect, orderly, even strangely comforting; every bit of that prison was engineered to keep the fox in place without hurting him.
It pissed him off.
It wasn't supposed to happen like this. The deal was supposed to be a simple affair. Get to the garage, show the goods, get the 500 thousand crystals, get his cut, and then move on to the next deal. He had tried a bit of the product with permission from the boss; crushed petal essence mixed with a papaver flower that only grew in Shang Tu and served up either as an injection or a cigarette. On its own, the papaver was not particularly great, good for a quick high that lasted for about an hour, but much better as a medicine than something to get high on. However, combined with the petal essence, the difference was night and day. They called it xìngfú de jìyì, and it wasn't hard to see why; a couple of pulls and all the pain just slipped away. You just…felt good, like you could take on the world and win. Impossible to get angry at anything. Everything was a huge joke to you. It was a lot more potent as an injection, but that was far too strong for the fox's tastes. He had heard the stories of people coming down from an injection, about how everything hurt and only another injection could make it go away, and you started depending on it just to go through your day. Might be a wuss for it, but he preferred to stick to cigarettes.
But there it was, six kilos of the xing just ten feet away. The deal was just two minutes from being finished, going over it again. He was about to shake hands with the Scarf the boss had set up the deal with, and then out of nowhere came the panda. Dressed in purple robes and brandishing an ice staff about as long as she was tall, it was impossible to recognize her as anyone except Neera Li. That bitch.
As the entourage turned on her to shoot her dead, Neera waved her staff and the second floor of the abandoned garage, normally rather warm this early in the afternoon, had dropped by eighty degrees in the span of a second. The fox had heard the crackling of expanding ice fracturing the destitute stone as his hand moved reflexively to his pistol tucked into the seat of his pants. He cleared the gun, pointed it at the uptight panda, and pulled the trigger. It was too late by then; the bullets froze mere inches away from the barrels of the gangsters' guns, and then his pistol was suddenly burning his firing hand unbearably. The fox dropped it with a pained snarl, the gun peeling off his fur and some skin as it reluctantly left his hand, and he ran at Neera, hoping to pummel her into the ground.
The fox didn't take more than one step before he found himself unable to move. He tugged incessantly at his foot, angry at this woman for crashing a deal that the cops shouldn't even have known about. It took him a hot second to realize he could not move his body at all. He was bound in ice, at the mercy of his captor, and he couldn't do jack about it.
A minute and a half passed as he furiously went over the sequence of events. From the fox's perspective, it felt more like ten minutes. He could now hear the sound of a truck's police siren, the sound weirdly modulated and distorted inside the prison. Neera had a smug smirk on her face as she leered at the gangsters.
"All of you are under arrest for possession of illegal drugs, attempting to profit from the exchange of said illegal drugs, and attempted murder. You have the right to remain silent, and anything you say may be…"
Oh, if he could only break out of this glacial prison and throttle this ridiculous woman, that would make his day. But instead, he had to listen to her talk. Urgh.
Neera knelt down in front of the altar at the Magister's palace. She placed her staff at the altar and lit a stick of incense. Then she closed her eyes, clasped her hands and started praying.
"Blessed dragons of the five elements, please watch over the city of Shang Tu and give us the strength to protect it from those who would bring harm to its citizens, so that it may continue to prosper and be ever peaceful. Yuàn nǐ de lìliàng yǒngyuǎn bù huì xiāoshī, nǐ de cúnzài jiù huì zài quán shìjiè gǎnshòu dào. Xièxiè."
Neera remained still for a minute, and then rose from the floor. She picked up the staff, the tip now lightly humming as she left the prayer room. By all means, she should have been content. She had stopped a drug deal in progress, just one of three in the past two weeks, and she was fairly confident that she could deal with any future illicit deals. But there was a quiet restlessness in her demeanor.
The Magister was out on the balcony, looking out towards the city of Shang Tu. At midnight, it was like a loose web of interconnected orange lights, with the purple moon half-visible in the distance. Neera noted that he had taken up a position next to the pillar that had an arrow embedded firmly in it; something about that had meaning for him. Neera had no idea what it really meant to him, as she was not around for it, he had pointedly avoided answering questions about it and he had rebuffed several requests over the months to take it out of the stone. The wood was turning black with rot, the rot sprouting from the arrowhead.
He turned to face her as her footsteps moved closer, his face and body obscured by the robes and gold-trimmed helm. Instead, all one could see was his piercing yellow eyes.
"Good evening, Neera."
"Good evening, Magister." She bowed.
"I have heard tell of your most recent arrest. Please give the police department my regards."
"Of course, your highness."
Several seconds passed.
"It has been a long time since we have had a drug problem in Shang Tu, and this uptick in the past five months is quite the worrying trend. How bad is it currently, and do you have any idea who the supplier is?"
Neera pursed her mouth unpleasantly. "Quite frankly, your highness, it's a dismal state of affairs. Ten percent of the population is addicted to this drug, enough to murder their family if it will assist them in acquiring it, and we don't know where it's coming from. I have a name, but I have no idea how and where this Tam is operating. As soon as I have something solid, I will apprehend them."
The Magister made a pensive noise. "That is very troubling. I wish you luck in this endeavor. Perhaps I can commission more rehabilitation centers in the meantime."
"That would be appreciated, your highness. Good night. "
Neera bowed and turned to leave, as the Magister cleared his throat.
"Before you depart, I must ask you to indulge a question of mine. How are you doing, really?"
She froze in her tracks and turned to face him, puzzlement in her eyes as she racked her brain to try to figure out if there was a deeper meaning to the question. "Pardon, your highness?"
It may have been her imagination, but the Magister's eyes were twinkling in amusement.
"It means what it means. How are you, as a person, doing? I note that you are taking on a considerate amount of responsibility, and sometimes I wonder how that affects you."
Oh. That kind of question. In truth, Neera hadn't really thought about it; being the head chief of the police department and teaching three children, Lilac, Carol and Milla, just felt like second nature, something that felt right. Most of the time, though, she was too busy to have much of a personal life. She had no idea why the Magister would be asking this question now, and it took her several seconds to formulate a response.
"...I'm content, I suppose. The work keeps me focused on the greater good for Shang Tu."
"Is that all?"
"Yes. I should…be retiring to my quarters now."
"Very well. I shall see you in the morning."
"Good night, Magister." She bowed just a bit deeper than usual and departed, fighting a wave of self-consciousness.
Neera woke at 5:30 in the morning in her decidedly spartan quarters, devoid of any extravagant decoration whatsoever. The only things it had were a bed, a shower, a reading table, a stand for her ice staff and a stack of shelves that housed religious texts and letters from important officials in all three kingdoms and relatives in Shuigang. Otherwise, it was drab and uninteresting; perfect for her purposes.
She promptly left her bed and went about her morning routine. Shower, get dressed, pray to the dragons, and review her schedule. Breakfast at 6:30, lessons with the girls at 7, a meeting with the Magister to discuss his agenda at 8:30, depart for the police department at-
Someone banged on her door.
Neera took a deep breath, warding off the incoming tide of annoyance as she moved to open the door. General Gong was standing outside, shuffling his feet. He towered over Neera by about two heads and was her senior by several years, but for someone who was supposedly renowned for his military prowess, she had found him quite unprofessional on the best of days.
"May I ask what the purpose of this visit is?"
Gong snapped to attention.
"So this message came to the palace several hours ago. You know that guy we've been trying to catch? It's addressed to you."
Neera held out a hand expectantly. Gong fumbled with the envelope, wrinkling it as it changed hands, and Neera simply went to the reading table and cut it open with a letter knife.
The paper was fairly extravagant, sporting a few wrinkles from improper handling, but otherwise smooth as silk and with a tinge of gold around the edges. The message inside was simple:
'Neera Li,
Heard you've been cracking down on my deals. Respect the work ethic, but it's bad for business. Call this number when you get the letter. Want to talk in person. No police, no backup of any kind.
864-0289-7761
-Tam'
Neera read the letter a few more times to herself and relayed the message to Gong.
He snorted lightly, an undignified sound. "Sounds like a trap to me. You're going to talk to him alone, then?"
"I am well aware of that, and I have no intention of going without backup. I am curious as to where this person is operating, and why he wants to talk now."
"Need me for anything?" Gong's voice was just a tinge too eager for her tastes, and she raised an eyebrow.
"What you can do is take over my lessons for today. I was planning to teach them meditation techniques. I have a suspicion that Carol will be the slowest to catch on, so you'll have to be especially firm with her."
"Right. I can do that."
The tone of voice indicated that he'd rather be doing something else, but Neera wisely chose not to press the issue. She gave Gong her lesson plan and was about to close the door when Gong made a panicky sound.
"...Was there something else I should know about, Gong?"
"Uh, well, not as such, but well, I was wondering, Neera, when you finish up with Tam, uh, would you like to share a coffee with me? I mean, when you're free?"
Neera's mother had always told her that when someone had said something incredibly stupid, the best way to underscore it was to let it hang in the air. So, that was what she did. She crossed her arms and tapped her feet, and waited.
The silence stretched out for several seconds before Gong awkwardly shuffled his feet and scratched his head.
"Uh, I guess that's a no, then. Sorry to bother you."
She nodded gravely and closed the door, listening to his fading footsteps, and sighed deeply. Ridiculous.
"Sounds like a trap. I don't trust it. You should let someone else go. I'd do it."
Captain Huang Lam, a hawk in a decorated navy blue officer's uniform, had his hands folded patiently behind his back.
"It is a trap, Captain, but it has to be me that goes. This could be our only chance to find out where Tam is situated, and there's no telling what will happen if someone other than me were to go in my place."
"You're correct, but I don't like it. Something happens to you, we're screwed, Chief."
"I have faith that I will survive this meeting. If I don't make it back, however, you're in charge until further notice."
Huang nodded grimly.
"At least wear a wire. Then we can mobilize faster if something happens."
"Considering the caliber of criminal we are currently dealing with, it is very probable that they will search me for a wire. If that happens, it will be useless to you and may lead to untold consequences for me."
"Then, we can have shadows. Two cars following you from a safe distance, reporting on your whereabouts. Done right, they should never be detected."
"Acceptable."
Neera ran through this conversation as she waited at the designated meeting place. Several minutes after 11, a red car, a sleek and compact design, pulled up to the curb. The tinted window on the right side rolled down and the driver, an overly fed raccoon, growled a command at her.
"Get in."
She obliged, and was promptly assaulted by a person in the backseat who forced a black bag on her face and took her staff from her. The bag stank of sweat, rancid breath and unwashed fur, and muffled the world outside. Then she was roughly patted down, the search covering every possible hiding place for a hidden microphone as she feared. It was only the desire to find and arrest Tam that kept her from resisting.
The ride was silent, uneventful and unpleasant. She forced herself to breathe through her mouth as much as possible and keep track of the turns and stops. There was an extended stop about four or five minutes long at some point, and then back to the stop-start routine. Roughly an hour later, she was forced out of the car, and five minutes later, the bag came off.
The room was gaudy, the floor adorned with a red velvet carpet and the walls lined with figureheads. There was a thick smell of red petals mixing with a sort of vaporous smoke in the air, a saccharine sweetness that would quickly wear thin in due time, but a welcome change from the black bag. Her escorts were standing mere feet away from her, three of them, all looking ready to pounce if she stepped out of line. One of them, the one who had forced the bag on her, was carrying her staff, handling it carelessly.
Neera was standing in front of a panda in his late thirties, sitting on a black leather couch and resting his leather shoes on a mildly cluttered oaken table. He was flanked on either side of him by two women that had unfocused eyes, improper clothes, messy makeup and a dreamlike manner to their obsessive fawning, and he was patting and rubbing their heads as if they were pets rather than people. They couldn't have been more than half his age, if even that. He was slender and subtly muscular, just enough to be noticeable through his expensive carmine suit if you were paying attention. Most of all, though, this person was confident; he had a lazy grin on his face that spoke volumes about how much control he thought he had. Neera curled her lip in disgust.
"Are you Tam."
The panda's voice was melodic. "That I am. Take a seat, if you please."
He pointed to a chair, and Neera sat, crossing her legs.
"If I may ask, I fail to see what this talk accomplishes. I don't imagine there is anything you could possibly say to me that would convince me that you're anything other than a common criminal, responsible for hundreds of incoherent addicts who would kill for this drug. And in bringing me here, I now know where you're operating, and it's only a matter of time before you are apprehended and made to confront your crimes in the eyes of the law."
Tam's smile widened.
"You're absolutely correct, Neera-"
"Do not presume to speak to me as if we are equals."
The escorts grumbled dangerously, and the sound of three pistols leaving their holsters and being cocked filled the air. Tam raised a hand and shook his head imperceptibly, and the grumbling subsided. Notably, the women didn't even react to that.
"My apologies, I spoke out of turn. As I was saying, you are correct, there's nothing I can say to you that'll make you see things from my point of view. As such, I don't want to say anything, I just want to make an offer."
Neera raised an incredulous eyebrow.
"What makes you think I'll accept any bribe of yours? Do you think me morally bankrupt?"
In response, Tam procured a syringe and laid it on the table. The liquid inside was a white-red mixture.
"On the contrary. I want you to see what this is about. I don't want to buy you off, that's a bit crass. But you do have to understand where I'm coming from."
The eyebrow went down, and her eyelids narrowed.
"Ridiculous. Instead of offering me money or influence like most criminals do, you think offering your drug is a better alternative? What happens if I refuse to play this game."
A shrug, a further widening of an already stretched grin.
"Well. You don't have to do anything. You could leave, if you wanted. Not to imply anything untoward about how you're doing your job, but my friends are understandably upset. I am a bit upset myself, prison is such a dreadful place. But, I can talk sense into them. Though, if you do leave…"
Tam procured a pistol from his suit, the parts a gleaming and polished off-white metal.
"I will shoot these women, and then immediately start expanding my reach in this city. They won't feel any pain, if you're wondering. They're high, they'll enjoy every second of it. What do you say, loves? How does a bullet to the head sound?"
In response, they giggled and responded in unison, the sound a falsetto and the emphasis on the wrong syllables.
"That sounds so lovely, Tammy. Do me first."
"No, meee…"
Neera was horrified as the women play-fought over the suggestion, not caring that Tam was savoring her reaction like it was an especially delectable piece of food.
"As you can see, they're enjoying the idea. You're all about the greater good, I understand. So you can leave. What's a couple of addicts compared to the information you gained by coming here? I must warn you not to underestimate my capabilities, however; the only reason you know where I am is because I let it happen. And with the pace at which I expect to expand my business, I suspect there will be much more bloodshed on the streets when we inevitably clash. Or, you can take the xing. See how good it is and why people keep coming back for more. No one gets hurt. Status quo stays the same. Fair trade."
Neera stared at the syringe, the religious wrath spilling over into her gaze as statistics flew into her mind. Ten percent addicted. One hundred and twenty dead from overdose. Several months of withdrawal symptoms before the users could be fully independent of the xing. An escalation of any sort was an unacceptable consequence; even if Tam was arrested in the next month, Shang Tu might not fully recover from this episode for years. But this audacious demand flew into the face of everything she was taught as a priestess.
Through gritted teeth, Neera forced herself to get the words out.
"I have your word that if I do this, absolutely nothing changes. No expansion whatsoever."
The infernal grin stayed in place.
"You have my word, my lady. No expansion."
She stared at the syringe for half a minute, then with shaking hands, rolled up a sleeve, and picked up the syringe. Exposing a vein, she said a silent prayer to the dragons above to forgive this breach of conduct, and emptied the contents into her body. Perhaps her shadows would report back to the precinct, and they would stage a raid on this place of evil very soon.
The results were near instantaneous. Pure ecstasy coursed through her body, and all rational thought left her mind. Her vision blurred rapidly, until a scarlet red haze tinged everything she could focus on. She forgot that she was supposed to be angry at this turn of events, and soon she forgot everything else. In the space of two minutes, all that was left was the sweet whispers of the xing. She could feel herself growing pleasantly numb.
"Oh, before I forget. I didn't want to upset you with this, but now that you're enjoying yourself, I figured you should know. On the way here, my friends found your ghosts, and they, ah, disposed of them. I suppose you wanted insurance, but I did say, no police, no backup of any kind. No one's coming to save you."
She should have felt disappointment and fury, but something about these words was so incredibly funny that she burst out laughing, unable to control herself. That was the last thing she remembered as she drifted off into unconsciousness.
In the scarlet, dreamy haze of the xing, time slipped away from Neera's grasp. Every time she tried to break free of the haze, she could only maintain awareness for a few seconds before she was pulled back in by the xing's soothing, comforting arms. These few seconds of awareness felt like agony compared to the tranquility of non-existence, and so eventually she just gave up and let it consume her. Every so often, she could feel a vague pinprick on her arm, followed by a rushing river of pleasure as the haze reddened further. She was ashamed to say that she looked forward to these moments.
At some point, a memory floated to the surface, this one unlike the others that she could remember. It was lucid, not quite tinged with the red haze, and for longer than a few fleeting moments, Neera felt like she was back in the real world.
She was back in Shuigang, sixteen years old and three years into her priestess training. The lecture was being held outside in the relentless, stifling summer heat that made her blue apprentice robes stick to her skin, with only brief respites to be granted by the occasional strong breeze. There were twenty other girls at this lecture chatting away to pass the time, the conversations an ephemeral buzz in the air that never quite reached Neera's ears.
The chattering stopped as soon as the headmaster appeared, an old and withered panda in ash-gray robes that commanded respect by presence and reputation alone. He carried a stick of bamboo, and he quietly tapped it against his knee as he glanced around the gathering of apprentices. There was a time where Neera was scared of this person, but she only felt respect for the figure that had been a looming terror in her priesthood, striking her unrelentingly with the bamboo for stepping out of line or showing disrespect, and rebuking her severely if she was late to lessons or falling behind in her studies.
The headmaster, satisfied with what he saw, went up to his podium, cleared his throat and started speaking, his booming voice carrying so far that even the apprentices in the back could not miss what was being said.
"Today, we shall learn about inner focus. To serve the five dragons with your unwavering faith, you must be pure of heart, pure of mind and pure of body. You must be willing to look deep inside yourself, see the impurities and remove them, one by one, until all that is left is wánměi. And so, to begin, we shall close our eyes, fixing an image in our minds, and taking deep breaths, still as a mountain, until we fall deep into ourselves…"
As in the memory, Neera dutifully followed instructions. But when she fell into herself, as was expected, she felt the moment where the memory faded away, and abruptly she saw the inner workings of her xing-infested body.
Hundreds upon hundreds of thorns were firmly embedded in her body, each one a pulsating mass of black and red. They were coiled about like barbed wire. And unlike before, there was no red haze to lose herself in, no feeling of pleasant tranquility.
With her mind's eye, she reached out towards a thorn, taking hold and attempting to pull it out. The thorn was burning cold to the touch, and when she tugged at the thorn, she felt a surge of pain. It was almost too large to overcome, and as she pulled it out, the pain escalated to burning agony as the thorn disintegrated. It came at her from all sides, pinning her to the ground. She could feel her physical body thrashing about.
Without the comfort of the xing, this pain was terrifying. Against her rational instincts, she tried desperately to leave, to go back to what was familiar. But she was trapped, unable to climb out of her own consciousness, and the pain was relentless. So, instead of fighting against it, she brought together what little wits she had about her and let the pain into her as she muttered words to herself, attempting to contain it into one spot.
"I am Neera Li, priestess of Shuigang and right hand to the Magister of Shang Tu. I serve the five dragons, first and foremost. Even when the way was uncertain and I was forced to partake in questionable breaches of faith, I have never once wavered from my faith. I am not the cowardly weakling this Avalice-forsaken drug would make me into. Pain is no stranger to me, and I shall not let this ordeal deter me from my goal. I will be free of this hellish prison, no matter the cost."
As her words gained conviction, the wave of pain receded further and further, settling into a dull ache that was not even a tenth of what she had to endure. Neera drew herself up, satisfied with the result.
She reached out to another thorn. As predicted, it was bitterly cold to the touch, and tearing that one out once again released a wave of pain. But she was ready for it this time, and it was contained in seconds.
Then she reached for another thorn. And another one. One thorn at a time.
Neera woke up. Immediately, she was graced with a throbbing headache. She took in other details through the pain as she remained where she was; her robe and clothes were torn and soiled, her boots were lying in a heap on the ground, the windowless bedroom she was in smelled of stale vomit, and she itched all over with the need for the xing. Even after she had removed the last thorn, this infernal drug was still eating away at her. No matter.
The door opened, and a rabbit stepped through. Neera froze, waiting for the gangster to move closer. She could hear the syringe being flicked, and snippets of his banal muttering. He couldn't have been older than sixteen. Then he pulled back the sleeve of Neera's arm with one hand and attempted to inject the syringe, and she struck. She twisted two of his fingers, forcing him to drop the syringe as he howled. At the same time, she rose from the bed and pinned his arm behind his back, stretched to the breaking point, then rammed him against the wall.
"How the fuck-"
Neera tugged at his arm, and he screamed again. Neera's voice was strangely calm, for all the fury she currently felt.
"Watch your language when you speak to me, foolish child. How long have I been imprisoned here, and why?"
The rabbit was crying, the words barely distinguishable from his sniveling.
"Two months! Boss said something about leverage on the cops!"
Neera nodded to herself. The duration of her stay came as a surprise, but not one that registered for longer than a moment. Why else would they keep her here, if they hadn't killed her in these two months?
"Where is my ice staff?"
"I don't know, lady! They don't tell me shit, I just-"
Neera slammed his head into the wall again.
"Do you not know how to speak respectfully, child? Twice now I have had to reprimand you for language. If you curse again, I will break your arm. As you were saying?"
The rabbit gibbered for a while before he could formulate a coherent response.
"Look! They don't tell me anything, I'm just the errands guy! Sometimes I draw the short straw and I have to do this dumb sh-stuff! Speaking of, how are you even awake right now?! You weren't supposed to wake up until the boss was ready to hand you over! We've been hitting you with a double dose of our best batches every week! Nobody just wakes up from that!"
"...What is happening outside, right now?"
"What's there to say?! We're getting bigger while the cops are feeling around in the dark! Tam's two steps ahead of them!"
A chill entered Neera's voice.
"Where is Tam."
The rabbit flinched at the change in tone.
"He's here, right now? Probably in his office, top floor?"
"You have been very informative. Thank you for your assistance, child."
Neera loosened her grip on the rabbit's arm and turned him around, taking a deep breath in preparation.
"Now listen here, lady, I'm not a kid-"
Then she struck, lashing out with a palm strike that slammed against the rabbit's face and knocked him harshly against the wall. The rabbit's eyes rolled around and up into his eyelids as he slid against the dull red paint, unconscious to the world.
Neera put on her boots and left quickly, now acutely aware of the itch as she absent-mindedly scratched her arm and tried to rein in the headache that had returned, seeming to hurt twice as much as it did when she had woke up. She muttered a prayer under her breath as she moved around.
It looked like she was on the first floor. Similarly to Tam's office, the hallway was covered with velvet carpeting. However, it was noticeably stained with dirt, fur, burnt cigarettes, empty syringes and other such detritus. As she moved down the hall, it was not hard to see why. She could hear wails, incoherent babbling and laughter as she moved past the rooms. That was bad enough, but then a door opened and a deathly thin tiger shuffled along.
He was missing his shirt and his pants were shredded in a pattern that looked uncomfortably like the tiger's own claws. The pallor of his fur was stark; one could tell that it used to be all brown until very recently, but it was now a sickly blue-white with errant patches of brown. Neera could see his rib cage sticking out sharply against his skin, and it moved when he breathed. The tiger was looking everywhere, but his eyes never quite focused on anything. Though Neera was inches away from him, her presence never registered to him. He was singing, the sound dry, scratchy and off-key. The words were of a Shuigang dialect, but disconnected from any song she had heard before. In point of fact, he appeared to be singing lyrics from entirely different songs in the same verse.
The tiger walked past Neera, and for a reason that eluded her as soon she thought of it, she grabbed his arm and spoke to him in a commanding voice.
"You there. What is your name?"
He froze in place, sniffing the air and looking around for the source of the noise, once again missing Neera's presence in spite of her proximity to him. Then he grunted and resumed his shuffle-walk, and Neera let her grasp on his arm slip away as he continued singing. His arm was fever-hot to the touch.
The tiger abruptly turned right and opened a door, then disappeared into the room. And then a second later, a female voice started singing, this voice so shrill that to call it music was a gross overstatement.
Neera forced herself to turn away and keep walking; this wasn't the first addict she had encountered, and until Tam was behind bars, it wouldn't be the last one.
Neera skulked around the considerably large mansion, trying to avoid unwanted attention as well as ignore her torturous headache. In keeping with Tam's apparent flair for the extravagant, the mansion showed signs of careless expenditure. The stone was marble from top to bottom, and the walls from the second floor upwards were filled with paintings of various styles. They were placed haphazardly, with no consideration for composition or space. A naive eye would have been fooled by the pretense of culture and enlightenment Tam was apparently trying to confer. Neera certainly saw through the facade as she tried to block out the noises of gangsters that, to put it lightly, were exercising their will on defenseless addicts who were stuck in the prisons of their minds.
In time, she had reached the top floor, wielding a broom with a large square brush. It was poorly balanced, not meant to be used as a weapon, but it would do as a replacement. She moved down the hallway that, by logical elimination, could only lead to Tam's office. There were two gangsters guarding the polished wooden doorway, a hawk and a wolf. They had been engaged in conversation, but taking notice of Neera, the idle banter came to a halt as they moved threateningly towards her, a predatory look in their eyes. The hawk snorted and cracked his neck as he approached.
"Damn errand boy is slacking. You're in the wrong place, panda. Don't rightly know how much of you is in there with all that xing, but I've always thought of what I'd do to you if I ever met you. Gonna be fun."
They had procured syringes instead of the pistols they wore in their holsters, still thinking her addicted and clearly not interested in killing her if it could be helped. And crucially, they were moving inside her effective range. She stared at them with a steely gaze, waiting for them to get closer, and then she struck rapidly, assaulting the hawk with three aimed blows at his chest, leg and face respectively. He fell heavily to the ground, and Neera started sprinting at the wide-eyed wolf as he dropped his syringe and fumbled for his pistol.
The gun came out and fired once, a sharp report for the bullet that missed Neera as she lashed out with an arcing strike at his hands. It displaced the wolf's aim into the wall a split second before he pulled the trigger. Carrying the momentum from the strike, she spun the broom once and thrust the end into his jaw, then twirled in place and attacked with a flurry of blows aimed at his arms, chest, legs and head.
As the wolf crumpled to the ground, Neera shot a glance at the hawk scrambling to his feet. She walked over and stomped the back of his head sharply, then whacked it with the broom for good measure. Satisfied that both her opponents were incapacitated, she stalked over to the door and rammed it open with her shoulder.
Tam was alone in his office this time around. He was drumming his fingers along Neera's ice staff as he tried to read a letter, but when Neera barged in, his expression went from pensive thought to bewildered confusion. She allowed herself a moment of amusement; anything was preferable to that cocky grin she was subject to during the 'talk'.
"That's what that commotion was about? Quite the surprise, really. I was hoping to keep you around as leverage, but you're here. Xing users don't…can't quit cold turkey, it'd kill them, but I was led to believe that my friends were regularly dosing you. I don't...how?"
Neera pointed the broom at him.
"The details don't matter, Tam! You are under arrest for kidnapping a public official, blackmail, and illegal distribution of a harmful drug, and that's just a glimpse of the charges you face! Five dragons as my witness, you will never again see the world outside if I have any say in it!"
A slow smile played about on Tam's lips.
"Bold words, but I note that you would still have to arrest me. And frankly, I have no intention whatsoever of going peacefully. Do remember that while you have a broom, I have a handgun and can shoot you before you ever get close to me."
And then he tilted his head, looking at Neera curiously.
"Ah. I think you are right, the details don't matter. Your hand is shaking. I can only guess at how long you've been off the xing, but I suspect that it's been long enough. First comes the itch and the headache, then the trembling, then the crippling pain, and well...the rest doesn't matter."
Neera would have scoffed at that, but almost on cue, she felt it coming like a rising tide. Slow at first, lapping around her ankles, then steadily rising, until it was so overwhelming that it was all she could do not to scream. She dropped her broom and fell to her knees, every breath a small agony to take.
Tam rose from his couch and walked over to Neera, a triumphant look on his face.
"Just as I thought. Everything hurts, doesn't it? But don't worry. I have the answer to that."
He knelt down next to Neera, and procured yet another syringe, all but forcing it into her hand.
"You know how this goes, you've done this before. Just one hit, and it'll stop hurting in a bit. I'll take good care of you personally. Don't be scared."
She stared at the syringe, filled with equal parts of longing, loathing and terror. She could feel the soft warmth of the xing calling to her. But instinctively, she knew that if she succumbed to its whims, she would never again be able to break free of its hold on her.
She clutched the syringe tightly. Tam was so close, just a hand's length away from her. He was grinning broadly, thinking he had already won.
"I refuse."
And then, in a quick motion, she stabbed the syringe into Tam's neck, and emptied the contents into his body contemptuously. He jerked away and scrambled back, shock and revulsion on his face. The smooth-talking, devil-may-care facade dropped away, and was replaced by pure ugliness.
"What the hell?! No! You bitch! Not supposed to happen! Not! Supposed! To! Happen!"
Tam jerked the syringe out of his neck and took out his pistol, firing wildly. But she could see it on his face; the xing had already taken effect, and it affected his aim adversely. It should have been an easy shot, but most of the bullets were comically off track as he fired around Neera.
Most of them missed. It was impossible to fire all fifteen bullets of a pistol clip at such a close range and not hit your intended target. So, she felt it when a bullet punched into her shoulder, the already considerable pain magnified twofold as hot blood dripped from the wound. But in a way, it helped her, gave her something to focus on in the wave of pain. Tam kept pulling the trigger, the gun clicking incessantly. Then, gradually, the pistol fell from his hands as he slumped against his desk and closed his eyes slowly, an oddly content look on his face.
Neera rode the pain for several seconds that felt like minutes before she was able to isolate it and keep it separate from herself. Only then did she find the strength to stand and walk. It felt much like walking with weighted clothing for the first time, every motion slow and deliberate. She closed the door and locked it. With this much gunfire, someone was bound to get suspicious, and she was in no shape to fend for herself.
Then, she hobbled over to her ice staff and sat on the couch. She could feel the familiar power coursing through her, much like a well-worn piece of clothing, and she realized how much she missed that feeling even as she turned the staff towards herself. Neera gritted her teeth as she visualized the bullet embedded in her shoulder, and then focused on pushing it out.
The bullet hurt worse coming out than it did coming in, tearing a deeper hole into her shoulder and possibly tearing at her muscle as a small geyser of blood ejected it from her body. That wasn't supposed to happen, but she was thankful to have the strength for such a delicate working at all. As a new wave of pain fell upon her, a silent scream escaped from her lips as she worked to get herself under control.
Half a minute later, she tore a piece of cloth from her robes and tied it around her injured shoulder as tightly as she could manage. Not perfect, but not much to complain about in her current state. She reached out to the phone on the desk and dialed the number for the precinct.
The phone picked up on the third ring, and an exhausted voice started speaking.
"Shang Tu Police Department, Precinct 55. What is your emergency?"
"Neera Li speaking."
"...Excuse me?"
"You heard me. I do not have not have much time, so relay this message immediately. I am at Tam's mansion, and I require all active officers to mobilize there as soon as possible. Repeat, all active officers must mobilize to Tam's mansion as soon as possible. I will keep this line open, in case you need to trace the call."
The person at the end of the line was stammering, but to his credit, he bounced back quickly.
"Yes, of course, ma'am. I understand."
As she set the phone down, the door started banging loudly. Understanding the implications, Neera was on her feet. The only way down from here was an open window that led to the streets. She had reservations about the viability of jumping out a five-story window, but they were dashed as the door started banging again, sounding as if it might splinter off its hinges. She took a deep breath and jumped, freezing herself into a protective shell as she fell.
In spite of the protection, the fall took the wind out of her and jolted the shell dangerously, and it was several seconds before she could deactivate the shell and stand. The pain had intensified, reaching a threshold where Neera couldn't feasibly keep it apart from herself and still function. But she still had one more thing to do as she stood on the empty, moonlit streets at what looked like one in the morning.
Compared to her stunt with the bullet earlier, freezing a person was simple; capture the moisture around their bodies and flash-freeze it into a glacial prison. Freezing a building was just a rather high-scale application of that same concept. She had done this several times over, and she hardly wanted to stand around and let the pain catch up to her.
So, she muttered a silent prayer to the five dragons for strength and guidance, then pointed her staff at the mansion, this hellish place that reflected the owner's hubris and had trapped her for two months, as well as others less fortunate than her. She gathered the power she needed to pull this off, and cast away any doubts that it would not work.
She was in total focus for three minutes, then uttered one word.
"Freeze."
Nothing happened for five seconds. Then, abruptly, the sound of expanding ice at the base of the mansion, crackling and popping. It was a slow process at first, but as the ice gained its foundation, it expanded upwards hungrily, consuming the second, the third, the fourth and the fifth floors in an exponentially decreasing amount of time. Then it moved into the mansion itself, going from room to room, floor to floor. Neera could feel a chill, neither bad nor good, when the ice washed over a person, as if it was herself being subject to this. There had to be hundreds of people in that mansion.
In the span of seven minutes, the mansion and all its inhabitants were properly frozen, a perfect and orderly sight. She felt a surge of satisfaction, but it was overwritten by the realization that the pain had caught up to her. Her vision blurred to small points of light, and she could feel her heart beating unnaturally fast, almost as if it would burst. The pain threatened to pin her to the ground, leave her to an ungracious end where all she could do was let it ravage her body if she didn't do something.
With the last of her strength, she froze herself into a glacial prison. She could not move, could not think, could not cry out as her body went numb with pain.
But as the cold washed over her and slowed her bodily processes, she knew it was alright. The worst of it was over.
Neera woke up in a hospital bed.
It was a sterile environment, white all around and with a window that looked out to the city square of Shang Tu. The sky was cloudy, white-gray light filtering into the room. She was hooked up to a heart rate monitor and an IV, dripping away.
The absence of pain slammed into her like a bulldozer, and with it came the realization that she felt sore and exhausted. As she looked around with her eyes to observe the room, she spied letters on a tray inches from her bed. She reached for them; there were several addressed to her from the Magister, Gong and the girls. Arching an eyebrow, she opened the Magister's letter first.
'Greetings,
I hope this letter finds you in good health, Neera. You will be pleased to know that your notorious drug dealer has been convicted of his crimes and is serving multiple life sentences as I write. I must offer you my sincerest apologies for our combined failure to rescue you from this villain's clutches, but most of all my own. I am beholden to the people of Shang Tu, but when it mattered most, I was unable to do anything for you.
Rest well, and come back when you are healed. I have missed your presence these past months.
-Royal Magister'
Nodding to herself, she opened Gong's letter.
'Hi, Neera,
So it's been a week since they put you in the hospital. Can't believe the nerve of that Tam guy, using you as a bargaining chip for the last two months! The thought of it just makes my blood boil. Him and I are going to have words, I promise you that.
...I'm not good at writing letters. Get well soon, and let me know if you want to share a lunch when you get back.
-General Gong'
She allowed herself as a small smirk as she opened the letter from the girls. It wasn't just a letter, though; a crude drawing was included, depicting Neera with a comically enlarged head sitting on top of an ice pillar. For reasons unknown, she had a crimson aura and a murderous glare directed at the girls, little more than glorified stick figures that were unfazed by this sight.
'Miss Neera Li,
How are you feeling? We heard about what happened. It didn't feel right just waiting for things to fix themselves, but the doctors said you'd be fine in a little while.
General Gong has been teaching us while you were gone. He's pretty funny and a lot more lenient, but it just didn't feel the same without you.
Carol drew a picture; it should be in this letter. I told her it might be a bit insensitive, but she insisted on it and you know how she is when she's set on something. I hope you like it anyway. Get well soon.
-Lilac (also Carol and Milla)
The drawing was somewhat tasteless, but looking at it drew chuckles from her. It was actually rather humorous, considering the circumstances.
She placed the letters back on the tray. The drawing, however, stayed on her bed as she drifted off into a dreamless sleep.