Blue Dragon

and alert as we walked back to the car park. John concentrated, and Gold appeared in the middle of the group.
    ‘Can you sense anything?’ my father said, his voice low.
    ‘No,’ John said. He concentrated again and his eyes turned inward as he walked. ‘Ah Bai and Simone are back at the Peak, and they are fine.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe they won’t try for us with so many guards.’
    ‘I hope not,’ I said as we paid the parking tickets.
    We reached the cars without incident.
    ‘Anything?’ I whispered.
    John and Gold shook their heads.
    ‘I’ll take Emma. Gold, Two Sixty, with us,’ John said, gesturing towards the smaller car. ‘Leo, Michael, Two Seven Three with Emma’s parents in the big car.’
    Leo pulled himself into the driver’s seat of the big car. The Horseman sat in the middle of the back seat, with one of my parents on either side of him. As my parents entered the car the Horseman pulled a short sword out of a scabbard he’d had hiding on his back under his shirt and rested it across his knees. Michael retrieved his white katana from the trunk of the big car and sat in the front passenger side with it across his knees.
    ‘In, Emma,’ John said, having a last look around before he entered the smaller car.
    I moved to sit in the front passenger side.
    ‘No, in the back, between Gold and the Horseman.’
    I shrugged and sat between them; I knew why.
    ‘What are the chances?’ the Horseman said softly.
    ‘No idea,’ Gold said. ‘Last time they attacked before we made it to the car park.’ He hesitated. ‘Emma, please wake my parent, it may be useful.’
    I tapped the stone.
    ‘Hm?’ it said.
    ‘We’re driving home from the concert, Dad,’ Gold said, looking around as John eased the car towards the exit. Leo followed us. ‘Help keep a lookout, will you?’
    ‘Not a problem,’ the stone said. Its voice became petulant. ‘I missed Simone’s poem? I was looking forward to seeing that.’
    ‘Gold,’ John said, ‘pull down Seven Stars. Lay it on the passenger seat.’
    Gold lowered his head and concentrated. The sword appeared, leaning on the seat next to John. I peered around to see it; I’d never had a good look at it before.
    Gold hadn’t worried about the scabbard: the blade was bare. The sword was jet black, with seven large circular indentations running down its length. Each indentation centred on a hole, about two centimetres across, right through the sword. The guard was a traditional Chinese style, silver and elaborately carved, but I couldn’t see the details of the carving. The handle appeared to be white stone. The sword must have been nearly two metres long. No wonder he needed to be in Celestial Form to wield it fully.
    ‘Whoa,’ the Horseman said. ‘Seven Stars. Wish I had a camera.’
    ‘It’s exquisite,’ I said over the back of the seat.
    ‘One day you’ll see it shine,’ John said.
    ‘Is it usable even if you can’t load it?’ I whispered.
    ‘It’s a blade. It’s big. It’s sharp. It will do the job,’ he said. ‘Lean back between your guards. Provide less of a target. We cannot use firearms against them, but they can certainly use them against us.’
    I huddled back between Gold and the Horseman. Gold concentrated and took battle form: his human shape made of quartz with gleaming veins of gold. The suspension of the car shifted underneath his weight.
    ‘You sense something?’ I said.
    ‘No,’ Gold said, his mouth not moving. ‘Just being careful.’
    We travelled up Waterloo Road, long and straight with high rises on either side. The ground-floor levels of the apartment blocks weren’t gardens, they were paved car parks. We travelled through three or four sets of traffic lights.
    ‘Shit,’ John said softly, checking the rear-view mirror. He concentrated, then raised his voice. ‘He can’t hear me, Gold, and he’s getting out of the car. Get back there now !’
    Gold lowered his head and disappeared.
    I didn’t say anything. John was concentrating on driving, and besides, I had a good idea what had happened. John couldn’t do a U-turn—there was a large concrete divider between the traffic lanes.
    ‘Damn,’ John said. His voice became fierce. ‘I don’t care, stop him!’
    He cut through three lanes of traffic from the right lane to the left, causing cars to screech their brakes behind us. He drove like a maniac for three hundred metres, then exited to the left so quickly that the tyres on the Mercedes