White Tiger

I felt a rush of professional pride at the compliment. Yep, that’s all it was: purely professional.

Mr Chen sat cross-legged on the floor of the cabin. Leo moved the chairs along their rails, then leaned against the side of the plane. Mr Chen closed his eyes, concentrating, and Leo nodded for me to go out.

Simone had slept through all of Leo’s yelling; she was completely worn out. I knelt on the carpet next to her bunk.

The plane rocked slightly, then shuddered. A brilliant white glow lit up the main cabin and shone through the galley. It was as if somebody had turned the lights up very bright.

Simone shot upright and scrambled to the end of the bunk. She hopped out before I could stop her and ran to the door of the galley. The light formed a halo around her and her hair floated with static.

I quickly went to her and held her to stop her from going in. She didn’t attempt to move; she stood at the door of the galley, frozen, watching her father. Her breath quickened when she saw him.

It had to be him, but he was huge and dark and unrecognisable. He still sat cross-legged on the floor of the plane, but had grown so large that his head nearly brushed the ceiling. His long hair floated around his square, ugly face. The glow came from him; it was all around him. He held one hand in front of his chest and the other in his lap. His eyes were closed, concentrating. Any doubts I had held before completely vanished. What sat in the middle of the cabin was definitely a god.

I gently pulled Simone back into the bunk room and sat her on the bed.

‘Is that his True Form?’ I whispered.

‘No,’ she whispered back, her voice trembling. Her little face screwed up with fear. ‘That’s his Celestial Form, for when he’s doing his special things. He’s not supposed to do that.’

‘Lie down and go back to sleep,’ I said. ‘He’s just stopping the big wind outside so that we can go home.’

She threw her little arms around my neck and clutched me. I pulled her into my lap.

‘He’s so scary,’ she whispered.

‘It’s just your dad.’

‘He’s scary.’

I sat with her for about twenty minutes as the plane shuddered and rocked. She buried her face in my chest and wouldn’t move.

Then the light blinked out and I heard something hit the floor with a sickening thump. I quickly rose, still holding Simone, and went to the door.

Mr Chen lay on the floor in his normal form, his long hair spread around his head. Leo was bent over him, his face a mask of misery. When Leo saw us he nodded. I gently lowered Simone and led her to her father.

Mr Chen was unconscious. Leo picked him up like a child and gently placed him into a chair.

Simone took her father’s hand and ran her other hand over his face. ‘Daddy. Daddy!’

‘Will he be all right?’ I said.

‘Yes,’ Simone said, with an expression that belonged on a much older face. ‘He’ll wake up soon.’

Leo rubbed his hands over his face and went into the bathroom.

Mr Chen’s eyes flickered open and he looked around. He saw Simone and pulled himself to sit more upright. ‘Where’s Leo?’

‘In the bathroom,’ I said.

He nodded and relaxed. Simone crawled into his lap and put her head on his chest.

The intercom clicked on. ‘The typhoon made landfall about two hundred kilometres south of Macau, Mr Chen,’ the pilot said. ‘It will be choppy, but we’ll land in Macau on time. I’ll tell you when it’s time to put on your seatbelts.’ The intercom clicked off with an audible pop.

‘You’re a very silly daddy.’

He kissed the top of her head. ‘I know.’

CHAPTER TWELVE (#ulink_2fbcac1f-310a-5eb5-ab50-7bf98d162de6)

The wind was still blowing fiercely when we landed in Macau, but the pilot handled it easily. We piled out of the plane and took our bags through the nearly deserted airport; every other plane scheduled to land had been diverted.

We raced through customs and immigration. Mr Chen didn’t even bother putting our bags on the X-ray machines; he just hypnotised the staff and they waved us through.

Leo glowered.

We hustled onto the boat and took off through Macau’s muddy water, under the enormous spanning bridge that joined the three islands. The water was completely flat.

When we hit the open sea the water still didn’t have any waves at all, and Leo’s expression went even darker.

‘Not my doing, Leo,’ Mr Chen said. ‘The water is always like this after a typhoon, you know that.’ Leo didn’t say anything; he just stomped into the cabin at the front of the boat and sulked. The boat ride back to Hong Kong only took an hour; as fast as one of the Macau Ferry’s jetfoils – the jet-propelled hydrofoils that carried the gamblers between Macau and Hong Kong. I glared at Mr Chen when we reached the pier, but he ignored me. It shouldn’t have been such a quick trip. The jetfoils travelled much faster than ordinary boats.

Leo jumped off the boat and charged through the afternoon Central crowd into a nearby office building to collect the car from its parking space underneath.

When he pulled the car into the lay-by under City Hall, we threw the bags into the boot. I put Simone in the back with me, Mr Chen sat in the front with Leo, and we raced up the overpass to take us to the Peak.

Mr Chen kept glancing at his watch.

‘Will you make it?’ I said.

He checked his watch again. ‘If I’m quick. I’ll need to shower and change first – I can’t go like this.’

‘Where’s the meeting?’

Leo hissed under his breath.

‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.’

‘Grand Hyatt,’ Mr Chen said. ‘Next to the Convention Centre.’ The Convention Centre was shaped like a flowing sea creature, jutted into the Harbour and was clearly visible from all over Hong Kong. ‘He’s taken a suite there for this meeting.’

‘What’s the meeting about? It must be important.’

‘Emma!’ Leo snapped.

Mr Chen sat silently, his face grim. Then he shook his head. ‘No.’

‘Okay,’ I said.

Leo visibly relaxed.