– CHAPTER 11 –
Legacy
For several moments, Valmont could only stare at the strange Chinese girl who had dared to break into his house, invade his room, step on his pristine bed with her filthy shoes, and then demand that he go with her who-knew-where. The same girl who had all but admitted just that afternoon that she had been stalking him and Shun Li. She was obviously insane and maybe even dangerous.
He glared at her in indignation.
"I am not going anywhere with you," he told her coldly. "And I will give you five seconds to leave this house."
"I'll only leave with you," she said, folding her arms.
"I'll make you leave, then!"
"Why are you being so difficult?" she asked, her aloof expression melting into something akin to despair. "My father only wants to talk with you! We don't mean you any harm; we're only trying to help you!"
"Help me with what? I don't need any help!"
"Of course you do." She drew a small, shiny object from the inner pocket of her jacket and held it up for Valmont to see. "Do you recognise this?"
He stared at the object, his eyes wide in wonder. How could he not recognise it? It was, without a doubt, the precious key a stranger had given him. The key he had been keeping for three years.
That accursed key.
He had given it to Shun Li only hours ago in exchange for a valuable ring. Then, this girl had showed up, and it had seemed to him that she and Shun Li knew each other, but were not on very friendly terms. He hadn't paid it much mind, since it was none of his business and he thought Shun Li could take care of herself.
How come, then, that this girl was now in the possession of this key, which Shun Li had been so determined to get? Somehow, he doubted that Shun Li would have just let this girl have it without a fight. He felt another pang of concern for Shun Li and glared at the girl before him warily.
"This belongs to you," she said, shaking the key between her fingers, silently urging him to take it.
"Not anymore," he replied. "She paid for it. It's hers now."
"Nothing in the world could buy this," she retorted. "Not money, certainly not a diamond ring. Not even a human life or soul."
"Well, you might as well keep it, then. I don't want it. It's cursed."
"It is not cursed," said Shun Li, her eyes widening, as though the very idea were unthinkably blasphemous. "It is an honour to guard it against the forces of evil!"
Valmont rolled his eyes at her insipid, over-dramatic words. "If it's such an honour, I ask again, why don't you keep it for yourself?"
"Trust me, I would like nothing more," she sniffed, an ugly, haughty sneer twisting her otherwise attractive features. "But it is not my duty. It is yours. I am nothing but a humble servant, an assistant."
"What in the blazes are you talking about?"
"Don't you understand yet?" she snapped. "You are the guardian of the key! You are the only one who can keep it safe! Or, at least, that's what Father believes! What I believe is that you're weak and a lousy guardian!"
"I don't care what you or your father believes!" he half-shouted, doing his best to keep his self-control. "I believe you've got the wrong person – and that you must be insane!"
"Unfortunately, we are one hundred per cent sure that you are the true guardian of the key," she said, calming down, although her deep scowl remained. "Which means that the fate of the world lies in your hands, and you are going to bear it whether you like it or not." She wrapped her slender fingers around the key, clenching her fist, and pressed it against his chest, where his heart was. He pulled back slightly, but she pressed on, fixing him with a very serious gaze. "You must have been feeling very miserable ever since you gave it away. You can't live without it. You need it, just as it needs you to keep functioning. No matter the grief and the pain it may bring you, it is better than being without it. This key is your life and your doom. This is your fate, guardian. Now take it."
Even as she spoke, Valmont felt a warmth that seemed to pulse from the key and reach his heart when she touched him, and it spread through his body, erasing the ill feeling that had been plaguing him all evening. He felt alive, energetic, safe, content.
He felt whole.
His hand came to rest upon hers. She gingerly opened her hand so he could take the key. With some hesitation, he took it from her palm and stared at it thoughtfully.
"You can feel the bond, can't you?" she whispered.
He sighed and wrapped his own fingers around it forcefully, half-wishing it would break into pieces. "Why me?"
"Because you are the one who created it."
He looked up at her in surprise. "I did no such thing!" he protested. "I got this key when I was twelve! A strange man gave it to me and said it had been with his family for generations!"
"I never said Julian Valmont created it. Not in this life. But you did create it."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Be strong, guardian," she told him sternly. "You gave in too easily today because of your greed. Pathetic! Don't let yourself be fooled by the enemy!" She half-turned, then added, almost as a second thought, "And stay away from that girl!"
"What? What are you on about now?" he demanded to know, but she paid him no heed. Sticking her nose in the air, the Chinese girl turned her back to him and marched over to the window. "Wait!" he shouted when she leapt onto the windowsill and jumped into the night. By the time he reached the window, she was nowhere to be seen. It was as though she had simply vanished into thin air.
He still held the key in a shaking hand next to his chest. The girl's words had disturbed and intrigued him. He wanted – he needed – to know more about the key and his alleged status as its guardian. He had got the impression that this girl knew more about him than she had let on, and he suddenly regretted having refused to go with her to see her father. They must have answers for many, if not all, of his questions.
No matter. He would not rest until he found them and cleared this entire mess up. He felt that something important was going and he was determined to get to the bottom of it, because, as his unwanted guest had said, it involved him, whether he liked it or not.
oOo
Half-way back to the apartment, Jade came to a halt when a thought suddenly occurred to her. Now that the real Shun Li was in London, surely she would want to reclaim her apartment, right? For the briefest of moments, Jade worried that Shun Li would attack Jackie and the others to kick them out, but then she shook her head. A lopsided smile formed on her lips as she thought how silly she was being. From what she could gather from their recent encounter, Shun Li was, at best, a mediocre fighter, whereas Jackie was... well, he was Jackie Chan. And even if she did cause any trouble with some dirty trick she might have up her sleeve, there was still Tohru – and probably Uncle, as well – to help him.
Still, Jade didn't want to miss such a fight. Even if her help weren't necessary, she would still love to watch Shun Li having her ass kicked.
She hurried her pace.
She was only slightly out of breath when she burst the door open and shouted, "Jackie!"
Startled, the man in question jerked his head up and blinked owlishly at her. He began to stand from the sofa, a newspaper open in his shaking hands. He was alone in the room, although cutlery noise could be heard from the kitchen. Jade deflated a little when she realized that no fight had broken out and, indeed, Shun Li was nowhere to be seen.
Tohru stepped out of the kitchen, carrying a small tray with sandwiches and wearing an expression similar to Jackie's.
"Jade," said Jackie, putting the newspaper aside as he stood up. "Is something wrong?"
"Sort of," she muttered sullenly, running her hands through her hair in exasperation. "Remember you told me I shouldn't take Shun Li's place because she might show up any time?"
"Yes," said Jackie slowly, warily, his eyes narrowing.
"Guess who I met today."
"You mean – you mean the real Shun Li is here?" asked Jackie, alarmed. "How do you know it was really her?"
"She looked just like the girl on the photo in her school file. And when I was alone with her, she said, 'So, you're the impostor who took my place?'" quoted Jade, imitating Shun Li with an exaggeratedly high-pitched voice and thick accent. "That was a big hint," she added wryly.
Jackie groaned and brought a hand to his face. "What happened next?"
Arms folded, she gazed upwards in an effort to recall the details of the exchange. "I apologized and said she could have her things back. That's why I ran all the way here. I thought she'd try to kick you out." She gasped and looked at her uncle, her eyes widening. "I just remembered! She actually said she didn't care about the apartment! Or the scholarship!"
"What?" Jackie frowned. "That can't be right. How can she just let you have those things as if it were no big deal? Wasn't she outraged when she called you an impostor?"
"Yeah, she seemed pretty pissed off," muttered Jade, rubbing her chin, deep in thought. "Come to think of it, I don't think she was mad because I've been living in her apartment. She accused me of stealing the key!"
"The key?" repeated Jackie and Tohru in unison.
"Yes! The key! That key!" exclaimed Jade, just barely refraining from bouncing on her feet. "I'd finally gotten the key from Valmont! Everything was going so well!" She sagged, looking at her hands, remembering the feeling of the world's salvation in her hands. They felt emptier than ever now. She clenched her fists angrily. "But then Shun Li took it from me and ran away!"
The worst thing, Jade reflected, was that it had been her own fault, really. If only she had taken her fight with Shun Li more seriously and not lowered her guard in her arrogance, the key would still be with her. None of this would have happened if Jackie had been in her place. Jade realized, then, that this must be one of the reasons why she had never quite been able to be as good as Jackie, let alone surpass him. He never underestimated his adversary and always did his best, no matter the situation. Maybe Jade should have let him help her a little more in this mission, rather than try and do everything on her own.
"It's all right, Jade," Jackie told her comfortingly. "We'll figure out a way of retrieving it." Despite his optimistic words, his expression was anxious, and he kept glancing at the door anxiously, as if waiting for someone.
"Do you think Shun Li might still show up?" Jade asked him, following his gaze to the door. "Wouldn't it be better if she did, though? Then we could get the key back!"
"I'm not worried about her..." murmured Jackie. Tohru set the tray on the table, looking just as somber as the archaeologist.
"We should tell Uncle about this!" said Jade, perking up. "Maybe he can think of something that would help, a spell – Where is he, anyway?"
"That is the problem, Jade," said Jackie. He began to pace around the room. "He never came back."
"We have not seen him since he left after that black cat," said Tohru.
"We have been looking for him all over the city, but..." Jackie trailed off and sighed.
"It is as though he has just vanished."
Jade stared at them, with a sick feeling in her stomach. She had had no idea that Uncle had disappeared. To think that she had been having a good time just hours ago, while he might have been needing her help. She knew Uncle wasn't helpless and could take care of himself, but who knew what kind of trouble he might have run into? Catherine's black cat was obviously not an ordinary animal; what if that had only been a disguise and its true form was actually that of a monstrous, powerful demon? Or that cat, while being chased, could have led Uncle to its master or other dangerous creatures. Poor Uncle, having to face it all by himself...
Also, how could he have just vanished? One did not just vanish into thin air without leaving a trace, even with magic, and she refused to contemplate the possibility that his body had been pulverized by whatever demonic creature he had encountered. So, either he was being kept in a well-hidden place in London, or he had wound up somewhere else entirely – another city, another country, another continent, another dimension.
"Isn't there any kind of – I don't know – any spell that could help us find him?" she asked Tohru, feeling frustrated with the whole situation. First the deal with Shun Li, now this.
Tohru hummed thoughtfully, his brow knitting in concentration.
"I only know spells to locate magical objects and evil chi. But perhaps," he added before Jade could say anything, "I can modify one of the spells so that it will locate any kind of chi, not just evil."
"Why don't you try locating evil chi, too?" asked Jade. "It might lead us to whatever it was that got Uncle. Maybe Uncle is still with it, or it could give us a clue about what happened to him."
"We did that today, Jade," Jackie told her. "It didn't work."
"Even though we have seen with our own eyes that a demon has been in this city, no spell can locate its evil chi," explained Tohru, a forlorn expression on his face. He looked out the window, looking ten years older, weariness, defeat, and worry etched on his face.
Jade walked over to the big man and patted him on the arm in a comforting gesture, giving him a kind smile.
"It wasn't your fault, Tohru," she told him. "Even Uncle couldn't find any evil chi with his spell, remember?"
"I know," he whispered. He bowed his head and stared at the floor. Jade's smile faltered for just a second.
"And there was nothing you could have done to save him from that demon. You know that, don't you?"
Tohru said nothing, but Jade caught a deepening of his frown and a flash of barely suppressed emotion in his eyes before he lowered his head further.
"She's right, Tohru," said Jackie, having approached them. "Uncle did tell you to stay with us and not to go with him."
"I should have gone with him anyway," whispered Tohru darkly. "I should have helped him, or tried to stop him from going after such a powerful demon all by himself..."
"You had no way of knowing it was so dangerous!" said Jackie.
"Yeah, it's not like Uncle's helpless!" said Jade. "He usually can hold his own against a demon! He's faced demons that were a lot bigger and meaner than that. How were we supposed to know that cute little cat was so powerful?"
"I understand," said Tohru, lifting his gaze back to the window. "But I still feel as though I have failed him, somehow."
"Well, you still have a chance," said Jade, moving to stand before Tohru so they could look each other in the eye. "Moping around won't help us or Uncle at all! Come on, now, chin up! Do that spell you were talking about." She gave him her best encouraging smile. "We can still find him, Tohru! We will find him – together."
oOo
The Westminster Bridge was, as usual, full of people, many of whom would stop to marvel at the beautiful sight of London and the River Thames and take photos. Valmont didn't appear to be paying them any mind as he casually leant over the rail, humming under his breath and fiddling with the golden key in his fingers. For all appearances, he was the personification of nonchalance.
In truth, however, he was watching the crowd with keen eyes, his gaze inspecting each face in search of one which had been tormenting him since the previous night. He hadn't yet seen it, but he knew it was there, somewhere in the busy crowd. Perhaps not in the bridge, but certainly near enough to see him, watch his every moment.
He wasn't being paranoid. He just knew that he was being watched – and that suited him just fine, for he was actually looking forward to meeting that person again. Unfortunately, that sneaky stalker had yet to show herself, and Valmont, who wasn't getting any younger, could think of many other things he'd rather be doing at the moment.
Fine, then. He had given her a chance to let them solve this as reasonable adults (even though, technically, neither of them were adults), but if she wanted to do this the hard way, that was her problem.
He scanned the river, making sure there was no boat in the vicinity.
With deliberate, exaggerated movements, he stepped back and reared the hand holding the key back. For anyone who was paying attention, even from a distance, it was quite obvious what he intended to do. He held still for a few seconds, waiting to hear a shrill cry for him to stop. When none came, he threw the key away, much like a baseball player would throw the ball. He watched it as it made a perfect arch in the air, glinting in the sunlight, whirled down until it hit the water with a small yet satisfying splash, and sank.
He stared at the water for a while. Then, without bothering to look back at the crowd, he turned around and calmly walked away. Some people were giving him odd looks, but he paid them no mind.
He counted ten seconds.
"Look! That woman just threw herself into the river!" someone shouted. It didn't take long for a mass of people to gather at the bridge to watch and take photos of the incident.
Valmont went on his merry way, humming under his breath.
"You!" thundered an enraged, high-pitched voice.
Valmont, sitting at a table outside his favourite café, looked up while he took a sip of his tea, completely unfazed. The Chinese stalker wore a profoundly unamused expression on her pretty face, her teeth clenched and her right fist shaking slightly. She didn't seem to mind that she was dripping all over the place, or being stared at. Valmont's gaze strayed a little down and he contemplated the interesting sight before him. Why wasn't she wearing white, he asked?
"You!" she repeated, her breath laboured. "Why did you do that? Are you – are you out of your mind? You – you idiot! Stupid, incompetent, irresponsible, worthless – What are you staring at?"
"Nothing," he said perkily.
"Why aren't you saying anything?" she asked, folding her arms and looking like she was just barely refraining from stomping her foot.
"I just did, didn't I?"
"You know what I mean!"
"You're making a scene."
"Shut up and tell me why you threw the key in the river!"
"Now, see, if I shut up, how can I possibly—" He broke off at the evil eye she sent his way and which was silently but clearly promising he would soon find himself in a private world of pain if he didn't give her a straight answer. He smirked, amused rather than scared. "Oh, all right," he said, figuring he had already tormented her long enough.
He deliberately took a longer than necessary sip and sighed, his expression a mask of oblivious contentment, although he was inwardly laughing at her growing impatience. She looked like she was about to jump on his neck and tear an answer out of his throat.
"Actually, I did it so you would show yourself and talk to me," he admitted. "I have many questions for you. And I would like to meet your father."
She huffed, shooting him a disbelieving look. "You must be kidding. What made your change your mind overnight?"
He shrugged. "To be honest, I wanted to come with you last night, but you stormed off and disappeared before I could tell I had changed my mind. So it's your own fault, really." He took a sip, noticing and enjoying the annoyed twitch in her eye.
"You're doing this on purpose," she snarled.
"Doing what?" he asked, doing his best innocent impression. He took another sip.
"Look, can't you just—" she sputtered and flailed her arms with a drawn out noise of frustration. "Just – take the damn key and follow me, then!"
He caught the key deftly when she tossed it at him and slid it into the inner pocket of his jacket.
"Not so fast," he said, raising his voice, as she had already turned around and begun to stomp off. He waited until she stopped and looked back at him over her shoulder before he took another sip from the teacup. "I haven't finished my tea yet."
He was well aware that he was being frustrating; that was rather the point.
oOo
Somehow, Valmont had expected his fuming stalker to lead him to some dark, dusty manor, or an old, abandoned building in a more obscure part of the city, or some such thing. Those were the sorts of places that mysterious people who knew something you didn't chose as their headquarters, he felt. Instead, however, she took him to a five-star hotel.
She kept a stoic expression all the way to Room 605, ignoring Valmont's questions and remarks and the odd looks she got from other people they passed by. She may no longer be dripping, but her hair and clothes were still wet, which was not something one saw every day in London. Valmont was slightly disappointed to see that she wasn't even blushing from all the attention, though. She was so entertaining to watch when she got flustered.
The girl knocked on the door and didn't wait for any reply from inside the room before opening it. She then stepped aside so Valmont would enter first. With a quick, wary glance at her, Valmont stepped into the brightly lit room.
A middle-aged man was sitting at a table in the centre, casually sipping what was probably tea, a perfect imitation of Valmont a few minutes earlier at that café. Ironically, Valmont was, like the girl had been, annoyed that the man appeared to be so lost in his tea-born bliss that he wouldn't even acknowledge his presence. Unlike her, however, he refused to show irritation and simply stood before the man, as far away as was polite, waiting and watching him. Behind him, the girl closed the door quietly.
Odd, Valmont thought as he took in every detail about the man's appearance. He had dark brown hair and mustache and green eyes and was very well dressed. He looked familiar, somehow. He was actually as ordinary-looking as they came, but there was still something about him that Valmont couldn't quite put his finger on. An old family friend or one of his father's business partners, perhaps?
The man lowered his cup and smiled at him, his small green eyes regarding Valmont appraisingly.
"Well, well. Here you are, at last. It's been a while, hasn't it?" he said as a greeting. Valmont stared at him blankly, which the man did not seem to notice. "You've grown up, boy."
"I'm sorry, sir, but have we met?" asked Valmont flatly, not caring how rude his straightforwardness might be. Something about this man's voice and the way he was looking at him was bothering Valmont.
The man raised his eyebrows in apparent surprise. "You don't remember me? One would have thought that you would never forget the face of the man who gave you something that completely changed your life."
Valmont only arched an unimpressed eyebrow. If he were honest, which he wasn't, he would have admitted that his memory was actually terrible when it came to faces. It was one of his major flaws, in his opinion, and a potential weakness. Right now, for instance, he would be feeling a lot less ill at ease and confused and a lot more confident if he could remember who on Earth this man was. The hint about something that had changed his life told him nothing – he had had many life-changing experiences.
Then again, when he really thought about it, it wasn't impossible to figure out. The girl who had brought him here claimed to be his daughter, and the key was obviously very important to her. There had to be a connection between this man and the key.
Suddenly, it became quite obvious who this man was. Valmont still couldn't remember him very well, but he couldn't think of any other possibility.
Comprehension must have showed in his face, because the man smiled and said:
"I see you remember now."
Valmont silently berated himself; he should be more careful with his expressions, leave his face void of emotion, or else he would only be making himself more vulnerable to a possible threat.
Unfortunately, keeping a blank façade at the moment was more difficult than usual. If this man really was who Valmont thought he was, he had indeed changed his life, not so long ago. For three years, Valmont had wished to see him again, but he could never decide what he would say or do if they ever met again. And now that they had finally met again, Valmont still had no idea what to say or do. He had mixed feelings about someone who had given him something so precious and at the same time so terrible – a gift and a curse, one might say. He had so many questions that he didn't know which one he should ask first.
"Have a seat, boy," said the man. "Would you care for a spot of tea?"
"No." Valmont sat down stiffly, his wary gaze never leaving the man before him.
"I believe introductions are in order, after three years," said the man, with a good-natured laugh. "My name is Jonathan Leng."
Valmont found it odd that someone who looked so British would have a Chinese surname, but did not comment on it.
"Valmont," he returned, not bothering to say his first name, and shook Mr Leng's proffered hand.
"And that," continued the man, gesturing at the girl who stood near the darker corner she was able to find, "is my daughter, Shun Li."
Valmont looked over at her, with a small smile that, seen from a certain angle (i.e. hers), was more of a smirk than anything. "Charmed, I'm sure," he murmured. The girl scowled and looked away huffily. Valmont also had to wonder if Shun Li was a very common name in China. It seemed too much of a coincidence that he knew two girls named Shun Li, and they appeared to recognise each other and show mutual hostility.
"Well, then, I imagine you have got many questions," said Mr Leng.
"As a matter of fact, I have," said Valmont. "But I suppose you already know what most of them are."
"Not really. I thought I had already told you everything you needed to know. I may have refrained from telling you my name, but I did tell you what I was, what you were, why I was giving you the key, and what you were going to protect it from."
"And I thought you were nothing but a madman!" snapped Valmont. "Until the ninjas attacked. It took me a while to realise that they were attacking me because they were after the key. Why did you give it to me?"
"To protect it. I told you that. You are the guardian."
"But why am I the guardian?"
"You created the key many centuries ago, in your previous life."
"Ah. Yes. You did mention something about reincarnation," muttered Valmont, rubbing his temples. He wasn't even sure he believed such a thing, but decided to humour Leng for the time being. "And how can you tell I am the reincarnation of the original guardian, pray tell?"
"It did take us a while," said Leng evasively. He took a sip of his tea. "But we are certain that it's you."
A snort from Shun Li's direction let them both know that "we" most definitely did not include her.
"All right, then," said Valmont, frustrated. He frowned, considering his next question. "But there is one very important thing you failed to tell me. What is the key for?"
"I didn't think that was important," said Leng, with a shrug. "But if you must know, it is to open a chest."
"What chest?" asked Valmont, immediately curious.
Leng hesitated. "The chest where an urn is being kept," he answered haltingly.
Valmont sighed and massaged his temple again. It was like talking to his mother, who took pleasure in giving only vague, cryptic answers to all his questions. After living and dealing with her for so long, however, Valmont had learnt to be patient. If he just played along, he would soon get his way.
"Why is that urn so important?" he asked, keeping his eyes open for Leng's reaction. The man hesitated again and sipped his tea, but other than that showed no sign of alteration in his demeanour.
"It... holds an evil spirit."
"I see." Valmont couldn't contain a note of disappointment. He had expected it to be something a little more valuable. He was still curious about it, but since Leng wasn't being very forthcoming... "Nothing important, then," he said dismissively.
As he had expected, Leng froze and stared at him with wide, unblinking eyes.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I've seen my share of so-called evil spirits," said Valmont, sounding bored. It wasn't exactly a lie, though it wasn't entirely true, either. Especially when he had been in Asia, he had seen many strange things that could have possibly been evil spirits, but he had tried not to dwell on it and think that it had been a dream or hallucination or something else entirely with a perfectly rational, scientific explanation. Either way, ninjas that materialised from the darkness and then vanished into puffs of smoke could count as evil spirits, right? "What is so special about this one?"
Leng pursed his lips into a tight line and set his teacup down. Before he could say anything, however, his daughter began to shout angrily in Chinese. Valmont could understand very little of what she said, but if the glares and accusing pointing finger in his direction were anything to go by, it was nothing complimentary about his person.
Her father glared at her and told her to be quiet. "He doesn't know," he said to her, still speaking in Chinese, but he spoke more slowly and clearly, his words simple, so even Valmont could understand. "He couldn't have known. It's my fault." He turned back to Valmont and his gaze softened. "I wasn't going to tell you about this, because your only function is to protect the key, but perhaps knowing the truth will give you motivation."
Valmont bit back a retort about how he had got the right to know the truth from the very beginning, if it meant he would have to fight off creatures of darkness in the middle of the night on a regular basis. The man was about to give him a straight explanation at last, and Valmont didn't want to interrupt him.
"You see, this spirit almost brought the world to an end in the ancient times. Fortunately, our ancestors succeeded in sealing it within an urn, which in turn was locked up in a chest. The key to the chest was guarded by its creator."
"Me," said Valmont. Leng nodded. "And the chest?"
"It was left with my ancestors. They also guarded the key after your past self died, but that was too dangerous."
"Didn't my past self have any progeny?"
"Yes, but they were either unavailable or unreliable, or so I was told." Leng coughed. "The point is, if this spirit is released from the urn, it will do everything in its power to finish what it started so many centuries ago. And this time, there are no truly powerful sorcerers, either human or demon, to save us again. So, it is your duty as the original guardian to protect the key and prevent such a catastrophe."
"You and your daughter keep badgering me about protecting the accursed key," said Valmont, scowling. "But where is the chest you are supposed to protect?"
Leng's reaction was satisfying and rather unsurprised; he lowered his head in shame.
"We don't know. It has been stolen."