-1XXI

The Lost Seal

Rathbone stormed down the hall. It had been a long, tedious night of the Jubilee Ball … it would all undoubtedly be devoured by the press in less time than it took the stables to go up in flames. He needed sleep and time alone to think a lie or some other excusable thing to tell Wu Chow on their next meeting… if there was one.

The door clicked as he pressed his back to it, latching himself into the darkened confines of his room. Curtains drawn and no fire or light, he sat in the dark a long moment, taking deep breaths, trying to convince himself it was going to fine, that some miracle would pull him in the clear.

'I remember my brother playing with this like it was a baby rattle…'

The envy and the obsession Wu Chow had over the Imperial Seal made Nelson's insides shake violently. His heart was pounding uncomfortably in his chest and his head was spinning. A clammy hand pressed to his forehead as he sank against the door, "I'm a dead man…" He groaned, finally sitting upon the floor.

A floorboard squeaked somewhere in the darkness of the room. Nelson jumped, his back hitting the door as a hand pressed to his already straining heart, expecting it to burst from shock and stress at any moment.

"Where is the seal?" A small voice spoke from the dark.

Rathbone's teeth grit at her voice and pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the terrible painful throb in his chest. His tone was strained and bitter. "Probably melted beneath the ruins of my stables."

Hearing soft steps, he listened as Lin stepped across the room. A match scraped against the table and flare and she lit a small candle upon his nightstand. She looked tired and crestfallen as she set the match into the candle's tray. "I could not find him."

Lin's eyes fell over the scrapes upon his face. Reluctantly she stepped forward… "You're hurt."

"Really?" His tone was drenched with sarcasm as he stepped away from her. "Was the entire scenario necessary?"

Lin lowered her head. "I don't…He escaped."

Nelson rolled his eyes. "Don't you ever think about anything else?" He looked her over from head to tow with a snort of disgust. "Your just as obsessed as Wu Chow. Perhaps you should be trying to befriend him rather than confusing me. One moment you're willing to listen, the next your kicking me in the hay! I don't understand you."

Lin's dark eyes darted toward him, blank at first. When the words finally sunk in, her face turned down with hurt.

Rathbone moved to the water basin, tearing off his cravat and tossing it at his wardrobe. "I thought we had an understanding. I thought we agreed to keep things going smoothly until a better option was available. Instead, we're fighting while everything is being destroyed behind our backs. You make this far to easy to blame you for the things tonight…" His coat snapped to the floor, joining the cravat. Rolling his sleeves up, he turned to frown disapprovingly at the woman. "I'm sure you've said absolutely nothing to your thieving brother and his friend?"

Lin's eyes remained glued to the floor with shame. Her lips pressed together, trembling as she held back a sob.

"I didn't think you would… it wouldn't appear honorable." He turned his back to her and sloppily poured the water into the bowl, setting the pitcher aside with a hard 'clunk'. Scooping up the icy water, he splashed his face twice. A small cringe, Rathbone looked into the mirror, pulling at the scrape upon his cheek from Lin' attack in the stables. "I suppose you would prefer to live a lie to your brother and risk endangering others than telling him the truth. You really haven't thought about it have you?"

He looked to her through the mirror. Lin said nothing, turning her face from the candlelight to hide the tear that was falling.

"You said yourself he broke away from his duties, that he adopted a new life in America. He has dishonored tradition and your father's wishes. Yet here you are: concerned about appearing dishonorable and weak before your brother. You're brother has already proven both those points of himself. Are you trying to associate some relationship lost or are you trying to show him you're better? Is this making any sense to you? I've had it up to here, Lin. You've clearly no intention on trusting me. You are clearly thinking it would be better to use me to get to your precious seal. Do you really think you can return to your beloved Emperor without him suspecting you had anything to do with this? You were the only one who survived that night. You're the daughter of the keeper of the Imperial Seal and yet you'll return conveniently with your exiled brother." He shook his head, scoffing… "Very well. If you wont accept a mutual partnership with me, then you should leave me alone. I've had enough of obsessive, foreign backstabbers."

Lin gasped, a hand pressing to her mouth.

Rathbone turned around, still drying his hands. He frowned against the flicker of the candle, "What now?"

Her shoulders shook, laced with a stifled sob.

Setting the towel aside, he hesitantly took a step closer. However, she moved, rushing far around him to the tapestry on the wall. Yanking it aside, she disappeared into the wall's opening.

As if the night had not been miserable enough, guilt now seeped into him, bringing his feet to drag as heavy as led, nailing him to the spot and preventing him from moving after her. She was not coming back, and now he was truly alone in his battle…if he even had a fighting chance.

A whispered oath and he marched to the candle, moving to snatch it from the table and blew it out. The room was black as pitch once again. Unbuttoning the top of his white shirt and golden waistcoat, he turned toward his wardrobe… His head banged against something hard, sparking colorful stars and blotches to flare up in the dark like burred fireworks.

Falling back, he thudded flat to the ground, sprawled out on an Indian rug.

His head lulled with a groan as the room waved like sloshing water. Suddenly, the light raised and the room was flooded in a glow of gold and red. A roaring, silent fire fluttered along the wall in a uniquely long hearth. The marble floors reflected the crimson ceiling. The jangling still twinkled, and Rathbone slowly raised his head to get a better look. He lay upon a stack of foreign throws and ornamental pillows. He blinked with bafflement at what lay beyond that… A tiger rug, resembling much of the same beast he had dragged all the way from the orient, But it was not the rug that had him stupidly gawking. Lin gleamed to him, brushing the gold fringe of her unusual and immodest garment. The devilish look in her eye brought him to gulp and sit upright. Something was not quite right.

"Lin-…" His words cut short as he realized his hands were bound overhead…tightly. "Oh lord."

The jangling of golden beads grew closer. He looked back to Lin as she began to crawl toward him, straddling over one knee before she sat upright. A Cheshire cat's grin spread over her face as she unclasped a foot long whip from her hip.

Torn between intrigue and terror for his own well-being, his wrists squirmed.

"Ah-ah…" She sang her warning, brushing the fringe of the whip against his cheek. His brows escalated.

"L-Lin this… this isn't uh…right. This is very wrong." However, she flashed him a knowing wink and then raised a long black sash, bending over him to press it flat against his eyes.

"You're not struggling." Came a low whisper tickling his ear.

"Oh mercy." He was blind – and loving it.

The fringe of her top tickled his chin as she whispered into his ear again, most demandingly, "I don't want your cooperation."

"Oh Lin!"

"Nelson." She called out, in a peculiarly deep voice.

"…What…?"

"Nelson!"

Slapped, he blinked hard to find himself looking upward into the faces of Gilroy and the house cleaner. "Ugh…" A hand rose to his forehead, where a red square patch of skin lay.

"You seem to have run into your wardrobe door. The latch is broken. You really ought to see it get fixed…" Gilroy informed him, kneeling beside as he helped Rathbone to a sit.

"It was…dark…" It was only dark after he had blown out the candle … Stupid, really.

"Yes, it was. The sun is up now." He noted, nodding to the maid. She swept through the room, snatching up the discarded coat and cravat on her way to the window. The curtains were yanked aside and the room was engulfed by morning light.

Rathbone squinted painfully against it, shielding his eyes with his hand until he adjusted to it. "How long have you been sitting here?"

"Oh, an hour. You were out cold all the way through sunrise. And you mumble in your sleep." Gilroy popped to his feet and lent Rathbone a hand.

Stumbling to his feet, he seated himself upon a nearby chair, watching the maid scurry out of the room with the morning laundry. Though the dream still lingered, he was suddenly sickened with the bombarding weights of remembering the previous night. "I'm not feeling so well."

"I thought you wouldn't." He noted, using his mirror to adjust his own tie and morning suit. "After inhaling that wretched smoke and all that bad luck, I think you're liable to stay in bed for a week. If not out of sheer embarrassment."

Rathbone's feathers were quite ruffled as he looked upon his friend. "Thank you for the encouragement, Gilroy. I mean I haven't slept a wink last night."

"Neither did I, frankly. I was far too excited after all that." He turned around and grinned beneath his mustache, "Just think. How many guests get to say they have seen such things at a formal ball? The blaze was brilliant enough, but the look on your face when you put that inspector in his place! Brava, I say! It was too good to miss, why, I had to stay up all night and write the whole thing down in my diary. I'm going to write it to all my friends you know…"

With deadpan expression, he watched his friend watch him. Finally, he replied, "I find it no laughing matter Gilroy. People are trying to kill me and I intend to find out why." Gilroy's grin began to fade as he watched his friend stand up and step to the wardrobe for his dressing robe. "Honestly, Gilroy. I would not be so concerned if it was Looney Lin alone, but it isn't. She has help now. They are probably part of a group from China who detest the idea of outsiders taking missions to their country. Just a theory, I don't really know anything at this point. Like the Boxers, perhaps."

"I say, Nelson…" Gilroy said with a dire note. "Do you think they are Boxers?"

He paused. His lie to Gilroy had paid off, as Gilroy just presented a helpful idea. His brows furrowed, giving it some obvious thought. "I don't know." Tying his robe tightly and turned to him, "I certainly hope they aren't… because if it is the Boxers then we can truly count on me not being the only target."

Gilroy paled, a hand lifting to rub at his chin with deep thought. "Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear…"

"Indeed. I need sleep, Gilroy… I need a clear mind to think things through, and I hope for a miracle in the meantime. Please, don't go speaking about what we discussed just now. I can't have people worrying or making a spectacle out of it. It's insulting."

Demurely nodding, Gilroy gathered himself and stepped toward the door, "Sleep well then. I'll see you on the morrow!"