The Demon and the City

and Zhu Irzh, stuffing his own ripped silk shirt against the wound, stumbled after him. He had thought that they were in an ordinary shack, but now he saw that the room went back a long way. It was unlit, and had no windows, and the walls were painted a dark, dull red, which kept out the light. There seemed to be no furniture, apart from a long bar structure along one side of the room and at the end of the room, there was a door. They went through, and found themselves in a long, winding corridor. From this central artery, doors led off along either side. It was quiet and very still. The floor was steady beneath their feet. Softly Zhu Irzh closed the door through which they had come. Taking a few steps down the corridor, he opened one of the doors to the left and stood stock still, looking through. Chen, catching up with him, peered over his shoulder.
    The small room was lined with curtains and the only furniture was a divan, rather baroque and covered with fat, velvet cushions. There was no one there, but someone laughed, all the same, and a spike of flame shot forth, singing the demon's hair.
    Zhu Irzh and Chen stumbled back. The demon was trying to work out the route that they had taken. He remembered the cluster of buildings around Shaopeng station, the screaming neon face welcoming customers inside. They had come round Shaopeng, up Battery Road and onto Peipei Street, then come down the hill on foot. He remembered the man outside the doorway, doubled over and retching, and saw from Chen's face that the detective had recalled the same thing.
    "We're in a demon lounge," Chen said. "Again." A door to Chen's left opened a crack and an eye looked out, small and orange. Chen stopped. The door closed. From somewhere came the sound of running feet. Around the corner came a short, stout woman with an imposing hairdo, clad in a pink kimono. She pointed an outraged finger at Chen.
    "You!" she shouted. "Spying on my girls!"
    "They seem well able to take care of themselves, madam," the detective replied, with a glance at the demon's burned hair.
    "That isn't the point!"
    "We came through the back door," Zhu Irzh started to explain. He stepped forward, out of the shadows, and the woman's jaw dropped as she saw him.
    "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize we had such august company," she said.
    "We were expecting a room," the demon said frostily, rising to the occasion. Chen shot him an appalled glance, then subsided.
    "I'm terribly sorry," the woman said again, deflated. Indicating a door on the right, she added, "You can have this one."
    Entering, Chen and Zhu Irzh found themselves in a room much like the demon's own on Lower Murray Street, draped in a dark and somber green. There was a similar overstuffed divan, and a cupboard. Chen shut the door behind them.
    "What are we going to do?" Zhu Irzh asked.
    "You tell me. I think it might be prudent to wait here for a while and then make our way to the precinct. Why isn't this place affected by the quake?" he asked.
    "Because it isn't properly on Earth?"
    Chen was frowning. There was a flicker of movement in the dim corner of the room, making Zhu Irzh jump, but then he saw that it was only a mirror, half-concealed by the drapes. The room seemed to have become darker. The surface of the mirror was glossy, absorbing light, and it was like looking down a well. Zhu Irzh watched them both in the mirror: the pale, golden-eyed demon and the round-faced detective, side by side. Smoke seemed to drift across the surface of the mirror, though the room was clear, and in the mirror, Zhu Irzh smiled. Chen turned to his friend, and Zhu Irzh looked back at him.
    "Zhu Irzh?" Chen whispered. In the mirror, the demon smiled into his eyes. Rising, Zhu Irzh prowled round the head of the divan, though in the mirror, he was still seated. The room was much darker now, all the light leaching away and the only illumination coming from the lamp in the mirror. In the mirror, the demon's eyes were lambent in the reflected light.
    "Zhu Irzh?" Chen asked uncertainly. The words made little sense. The air in the stuffy room crackled in anticipation. Very slowly, Chen stood up. Zhu Irzh watched, frowning. He knew this human creature, somehow, but his thoughts were muddled and jumbled. The human edged around the side of the room. Zhu Irzh watched him, interested. Unhurriedly, he straightened up and came round the end of the divan. The human stopped dead. He froze, holding his breath and keeping rigid. The demon found