Blue Dragon

can live like this,’ my father said. ‘You act as if you’re totally unafraid. As if it’s the most natural thing in the world.’
    ‘I hardly recognise you,’ my mother whispered. ‘Youaren’t the girl that left Queensland six years ago to work in Hong Kong for a couple of years.’
    ‘I’m still the same person.’
    ‘You’re a bloody snake !’ my father cried. ‘If that lady hadn’t shown us inside you, I would swear you were a different person. That you aren’t Emma at all.’
    I didn’t know what to say.
    ‘Are you sure we’ll be safe?’ my mother said.
    ‘Absolutely positive.’ I tried to smile. ‘Come on, you might enjoy yourselves. The shops around Causeway Bay are great fun.’
    ‘Simone said something about Leo’s mother hurting his mouth and that’s why he has a speech impediment,’ my father said from the front of the car as John drove us all down to the dojo. ‘What happened?’
    ‘Not Leo’s mother, a Snake Mother ,’ Simone said patiently. She was sitting between my mother and me in the back seat. ‘Snake Mothers are big demons.’
    My parents glanced at me, questioning. I looked out the car window and didn’t say anything.
    ‘What did the demons do to him, Emma?’ my mother said.
    ‘They cut his tongue in half,’ John said, without looking away from the road. ‘Right down the middle. We were able to heal it, but he’ll never speak clearly again.’
    My parents were silent. I could picture their faces, but I still didn’t look.
    John made himself appear very old as we neared the Causeway Bay dojo.
    ‘Have you been here before, Emma?’ he said.
    ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘A couple of times, to pick up Leo.’
    John eased the car up into the car park and parked it not far from the smaller Mercedes.
    ‘Do you need a cover story?’ I said before we stepped out of the car.
    ‘No. I’ll just be me, John Chen Wu. The owner of the dojo just knows my name and that I’m Leo’s employer.’ He grinned at me. ‘Do I look about ninety?’
    ‘At least.’ I grinned back. ‘Very cute.’
    ‘He doesn’t look cute, he looks stupid ,’ Simone said.
    ‘Respect your elders,’ John said sharply in a thin elderly voice.
    Simone screamed with laughter.
    ‘You okay to get around like that?’ I said. ‘You don’t need help?’
    ‘Nope,’ he said in his usual voice, his dark eyes sparkling under his bushy white eyebrows. ‘It’s only the outside. The Dark Lord is inside, still as drained as ever.’ He glanced at the car park lift. ‘I hope Roland has a spare room where we can do this.’
    ‘Come on, guys,’ I said to my parents, who were watching us like frightened deer. ‘Everything’ll be fine. Let’s sort out these demons, then we’ll go to the shops.’
    The dojo was on the eighth floor of a nondescript commercial building in the least glamorous part of Causeway Bay. The lift was tiny, old and filthy. My parents were not impressed.
    The eighth-floor lobby was tiled with ghastly dark green tiles, and the walls were bare concrete stained black with smoke from the incense in the altars to the door gods.
    Mr Pak had the whole floor of the building, his family had owned it for many years. The dojo’s single door had a red demon-warding light above it, a small altar to the door god next to it, and a number of good-luck calligraphy papers stuck all around it. There was a huge metal gate in front of it, but that was left open during the day.
    John banged on the door. Nothing happened. He stopped and concentrated.
    Leo opened the door and poked his head around. ‘My Lord. My Lady. Come on in, we have a lot of explaining to do.’
    The whole dojo was a hubbub of voices. There must have been dozens of demons in the training rooms, but the hallway was deserted.
    John stilled. The noise hushed immediately. There was complete silence.
    ‘John, your hair’s going black,’ I whispered urgently. ‘Try to hold the shape.’
    John concentrated again and gained a few years.
    ‘I do not believe this,’ my father growled quietly.
    ‘Maybe take your parents shopping while I sort this out,’ John said to me.
    ‘How many are there?’
    ‘About seventy-five, but more are turning up all the time.’
    Roland Pak charged down the hall towards us and shouldered Leo aside. ‘What the hell is going on?’ he shouted in Cantonese. ‘Are these refugees from the mainland or something? Illegals? If you don’t give me a good reason why I shouldn’t call the police, I’ll be