Free Shadow Pavilion by Liz Williams Page A

surprise me that he was able to gain a hold over her, especially as she was not expecting it.”
    Chen sighed. “I have you to thank for saving her, then. I’m afraid this kind of thing is not all that unusual. Inari has—family­—in Hell. The marriage was not popular.”
    â€œI understand,” No Ro Shi said, with more sympathy than Chen might have anticipated. At this point, Ma came panting up, looking troubled.
    â€œWhat’s happening?” Chen said. His gaze kept drifting toward Inari: he wanted to go to her, but duty kept him where he was.
    â€œThree drug dealers, a pimp, and some smuggled goods,” Ma informed him. “But no sign of Zhu Irzh or your furry friend.”
    â€œAll right,” Chen said. “Keep looking. I’m going to be occupied with the forensic team for a while anyway. If we don’t find any trace of them in a couple of hours, take the team back to the station.”
    When Ma had gone, No Ro Shi said, “You mentioned your in-laws. Is there any other reason why a demon might come after you or your wife?”
    â€œNot that I can think of,” Chen lied, and felt a twinge of conscience at it. A police inspector might not attract all that much attention, even if he did liaise between the three worlds. But the Emissary of the Celestial Court of Heaven was another matter entirely.
    It was close to dawn, with a gray veiled shimmer over the port, by the time that Chen, Inari, and the team got back to the precinct. There had been no sign of Zhu Irzh or the badger, and the forensic unit was still investigating the contents of the cellar. Chen thought that they would be there for some time. The captain had not yet arrived for work, so Chen was at least spared the discomfiting task of informing him about Inari; he was not certain how much of an issue this would prove to be. He installed Inari in the waiting room with a cup of tea, which she accepted gratefully. She had not said much since her ordeal at the hands of the shaman, and Chen was not sure why this might be: weariness, the aftermath of a magical attack, shame? He could not tell and this worried him.
    â€œAre you sure you’ll be all right here for a bit?” he asked, for the third time.
    Inari said, “Yes. I have my tea. Thank you.” Her face was very pale, even granted that her complexion was usually that of rice flour. But there was no color at all in her cheeks, and her eyes, behind the dark glasses, looked strained. Chen squeezed her hand.
    â€œI’ll try not to be too long.”
    It had occurred to him to send her home, but they could not spare the personpower at the moment and the badger was missing. She had already been subject to some kind of assault and Chen felt as though his worst fears were being realized: a nagging instinct told him that this whole affair was concerned with Mhara’s recent offer, and if hostile forces—who?—were trying to attack Chen, they might well choose to do so through Inari. He left her sitting in the waiting room and his heart felt as heavy as lead.
    He had barely reached his desk when a call came through from the duty clerk.
    â€œDetective? There’s someone waiting to see you. He came in last night and, well, he’s got a problem.”
    â€œHe and a thousand others,” Chen said. “What kind of problem?”
    â€œHe says a tiger demon is after him.”
    â€œA tiger demon?” Oh gods. Jhai Tserai. If someone wanted to strike at Jhai, an earlier line of reasoning asserted itself, they might well do so through those close to her, too. He was not sure how much of a secret Jhai’s nature was at the moment: she had ruthlessly suppressed both nature and information regarding it, but there were a growing number of people who knew. Perhaps this person was one of them?
    â€œHis name’s Pauleng Go,” the clerk said. “He’s in the interrogation room.”
    â€œWhy? Have we booked