The Demon and the City

belligerence.
    "Well, I thought we might be getting confused with the lesser land lines." Zhu Irzh frowned at the ground. The ch'i meridians glowed with a very faint light, only dimly discernible even to a demon's enhanced gaze. "It's not wholly clear . . ."
    "What isn't?" The dowser glared at him.
    "The meridian goes down here and then up under this boulder, yes?" The demon's long fingers made undulating motions, like someone emulating the flight of birds.
    "I suppose so." Paravang conceded.
    "Here, where the thing starts to descend again, is where I thought there might be a join. There's a meridian coming in from the southwest. There's a lot of water under here, too."
    "There's no join." Paravang Roche spoke with absolute finality.
    "I see," Zhu Irzh said.
    "I suppose you can sense a sort of knot?" Paravang lectured.
    "Actually, as far as I can see, it's more like a seam."
    "The knot is produced by the presence of the mountain line to the northwest, which pulls the meridian out of shape. Anyway, what of it? What am I even doing here?"
    "The mountain line is muted by water, surely? Look, Paravang, we don't know whether the site's feng shui actually does have anything to do with the murder, but since the dead man was a dowser, and since dangerous elementals can sometimes be conjured by disturbances to the earth, and since those same elementals are forced to travel along ch'i meridians, it's worth investigating, surely?" Did Paravang's manner suggest guilt, or only irritation? Zhu Irzh wished he had paid a little more attention to studies of human body language, but it was not an area that greatly interested most of Hellkind. He turned back to the site without waiting for a reply. "There's a substantial spring down there." He pointed.
    Paravang said loftily, "I doubt that very much. It's entirely the wrong sort of terrain."
    Zhu Irzh made a universal both-hands-in-the-air gesture.
    "I can't help that. I can see it! There it is. Go and get your little stick and take a look."
    "It is not a little stick! It is a dowsing wand!"
    "My apologies."
    Paravang stormed down to the carrier. When he returned, trudging up the slope, Zhu Irzh had not moved. His attention had been caught by something beneath the earth. The taste of water was suddenly fresh in his mouth, and he could hear it running, bubbling up underneath the dry stones. Zhu Irzh stood still and listened.
    "Where do you think you are?" Roche snapped. "A bloody cocktail lounge?"
    Zhu Irzh favored the disgruntled dowser with an uncomprehending gaze. He said, "Sorry, I was listening for something." This was interesting. He'd always known he possessed these powers, like most demons from the first levels, but he'd never actually bothered to put them into practice before. Could such skills, Zhu Irzh wondered, be used for locating something less boring than ch'i meridians? Buried treasure, perhaps?
    "Never mind!" the dowser snapped.
    On further investigation, they discovered that Zhu Irzh was right. There was a big spring, gushing out of the gap between the hidden strata. Paravang's fury that it had been the demon and not he who had discovered the spring was manifest. Moreover, he would not admit his error, subsequently acting as though Zhu Irzh had been somehow abducted into the netherworld from which he came. When forced by circumstance to utter, he spoke into the air.
    By now, the sun had broken through the clouds and the suburb of Wuan Chih spread in a tarnished glitter far below. The earth of the site was covered in condensation; droplets lying like spider webs over the rumpled russet soil. Zhu Irzh turned and gazed down the slope with pleasure. He may have a few frustrations with this world, but he could not deny that it had its charms. He watched the clouds settle over the distant hills, dimly aware that Paravang, directly in his field of vision, had flung down the dowsing rod.
    "What are you staring at me for?" Paravang shouted. All the dowser's control was evaporating like the risen mist.
    "What? Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you off."
    Paravang was not appeased by the apology. Before Zhu Irzh's startled gaze, the dowser snapped. He began to rave: shouting about imported labor, filthy creatures who weren't even foreigners but worse, something conjured up from Hell, taking his job and his money away from him, stealing his secrets, and it all got much worse. By this time a small and curious crowd had gathered. Zhu Irzh blinked. He could feel a stream of