Donovans 02 - Jade Island

international icon of charity and a gentle, genial prince among men.
    “Naturally, when it came time for burial, jade was among the most important items in any grave offerings,” Farmer continued. “Jade, the incorruptible stone, was believed to prevent corruption of the human body. Immortality, in a way. Thus, thousands of years ago, men ofimportance were buried with jade closing all nine openings of the body. In time, man, being man, decided that if nine pieces of jade were good, hundreds of pieces would be better. Thousands would be better still: an entire burial suit of jade plaques sewn together with threads of pure gold, rather like a medieval suit of armor made wholly from precious jade—jade from helmet to boots.”
    Kyle stopped shifting restlessly and began to listen. Really listen. He wasn’t the only one. The room had gone still while Farmer paced the stage and spoke urgently, drawing people into his words, into the vision he was creating of an ancient time.
    “That’s what Han emperors were buried in,” Farmer said. “Suits of pure jade, the Stone of Heaven brought to earth for man. All this at a time when it took months of an artisan’s work simply to shape and pierce a single plaque of jade. And the burial shroud had thousands of such plaques.
    “The lavish and lavishly aesthetic lifestyle of China’s emperors and empresses is well known. What is less well known is that many princes and court functionaries also lived—and died—in ways that Egyptian Pharaohs could only have envied.
    “The Han princes are a prime example. Their tombs were filled with the best that whole generations of contemporary and ancient artists could provide. Imagine it: the output of an entire kingdom channeled into providing a tomb to amuse its royal occupants throughout eternity. The cream of the artifacts of an entire civilization skimmed and buried forever.”
    Farmer let the audience’s stillness build, then smiled like a boy. “Well, perhaps not forever. Many tombs were robbed before the royal corpses were cold. The fantastic grave goods were brought into the light again and sold to wealthy connoisseurs. But some tombs, a very special few, remained untouched for hundreds, even thousands, of years. The tomb of an individual we call the Jade Emperor is one of those. Or was.”
    The crowd stirred, as though everyone was sitting up and leaning closer. Kyle and Lianne were no different. They sat forward, afraid to miss a word.
    “The Jade Emperor was a prince of the Ming dynasty who dedicated his life to the collection of one thing. Jade. With unlimited time, unlimited power, and the discriminating eye of the true connoisseur, he collected the best that China had to offer. When he died, he took everything to his grave. Of course, it isn’t possible tonight for me to bring more than a few things from that tomb. More, much more, will be on view when I open my museum. Until then, ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Jade Emperor. ”
    The crimson velvet curtains parted suddenly. Alone on the stage, impaled by a vertical column of light, a jade burial suit shimmered in ageless shades of green.
    Distantly Lianne was aware that her nails were digging into Kyle’s hand and that he was holding her fingers hard enough to leave dents. She didn’t care. She needed something solid to hang onto, something warm, something strong, something that could balance the queasy fear coiling through her.
    In the whole world, she knew of only one jade burial suit in private hands. That suit was in Wen Zhi Tang’s vault.
    Or had been. Like the Neolithic blade.
    Even as Lianne told herself she was crazy, the burial suit she was looking at now couldn’t be Wen’s, she knew she must examine Farmer’s gleaming green prize for herself. Until she did, the sick fear inside her would grow into a nightmarish certainty.
    The way it was growing now.
    Even at a distance of twenty feet, the suit looked the same as Wen’s. It looked like it was made of plaques of imperial jade, not softer serpentine. Darker on the head, flowing to a pale, creamy green across the torso, deepening to moss on the feet. Gold thread winked everywhere, especially on the sections that covered the face and chest. There the thread was so thick it was like embroidery, acareful series of Xs crisscrossing and outlining each separate plate of jade.
    It can’t be the same suit.
    Without knowing it, Lianne stood and leaned closer to the stage. She wasn’t the only one.