Free DAC 3 Precious Dragon by Liz Williams Page B

appointment."

    "I'm afraid that won't be possible. Lord Lu is out of town at the present moment, and is not due to return until after the festival. Perhaps someone else might be able to assist you?" he asked, helpfully. Pin studied him. The administrator wore a neat, dark robe. His eyes were entirely covered by cataracts, giving his gaze a cloudy, indefinite quality. As he stepped forward, Pin looked down and observed that his feet were back to front. The toes of his elegant black slippers pointed behind him.

    "I don't think so, no. I need to speak to Lord Lu. It's urgent."

    "Today is a holiday, after all. The echelons of Epidemics are as entitled to their festivities as the rest of us. Indeed, I plan to go home myself within the hour."

    "And no one else is available?"

    "So sorry."

    "Very well, then. It's always the same. If you want something done properly, you have to do it yourself," the demon snarled. Wheeling around, she headed for a door set in the wall.

    "Wait!" the elderly gentleman wailed, but she was already beyond his reach. Pin could hear him shuffling forward as the door closed. They were in a lift. The demon's taloned forefinger pressed the topmost button, and then they were sailing upward, so fast that Pin found himself forced against the sides of the demon's skull. Pin had not expected to encounter laboratories, but when they stepped out of the lift and into the upper reaches of the Ministry, he could see the rows of beds and equipment through every door they passed. It reminded him of the stories about Paugeng: the endless, secret dormitories where all the intricacies of the body were unraveled and revealed, documented and stored for alchemical transformation. A thought occurred to him. He said to the striding demon, "Those people in the hallway—the ghosts—what are they waiting for? Are they going to come here, to be tested?" He thought of his mother, so savagely and suddenly torn from life. Was she here, among the ranks of the patient spirits? He had not seen her, but perhaps she had changed, worn away by death and time. It was a dreadful notion: even after the expiration of the body the suffering might not cease. The demon did not reply. She brushed aside the equipment: the silken nets of the drip feeds, the bronze crucibles and frosted tubes, as though they did not exist. The wards were empty. At last the demon reached the end of the long line of laboratories. They were in a small room, painted an unpleasant institutional green. Outside the small window, the storms of the upper air continued to rage.

    As they stepped through the door of the last lab, Pin saw a young woman sitting at the desk. She was wearing a neat black uniform and slippers, and her round face, though pasty and pale, was unmarked. She looked utterly dumbfounded to see the demon.

    "Can I help you?" she asked, mechanically. For the second time that day, the demon explained.

    "I'm sorry. I don't think I can help. I—"

    "Perhaps this might change your mind." The demon slid something into the woman's hand, a crackle of paper, and then sat in the chair before the desk.

    "Oh," the woman said. She looked doubtful. "I don't know if I should—well, all right then, I'll try. But I'm only a technician; I don't know if there's anything I can do." Turning to a nearby shelf, she took down a large leather-bound book and began leafing through it, mouthing the characters silently to herself as she did so. At last she said, "Ah . . . Perhaps this might work. I'm not qualified to practice, you understand," she added anxiously. The demon made an impatient gesture.

    "Just get on with it. I haven't got all day . . ."

    Pin, eavesdropping on the demon's thoughts, realized that this was true. The demon was running a considerable risk in coming here so blatantly; she was counting on a swift exorcism and then flight, to her home. Presumably, Pin thought uneasily, it was only a matter of time before the Storm Lords showed up.

    The woman was