The words meant worlds to Cleve. They were the one inkling to what the Wu-Fan might be doing.
Once away from here, lost in the belated crowds of the street, Cleve could summon aid, and raid the junk that lay anchored in the harbor.
But first he must escape!
GROPING, he found the door. The secret catch was the same as the others. The door slid aside.
Cleve peered from the curtain. The brass doors to Ling Soo’s inner room were closed. The hall itself was empty.
Cleve moved forward, and as he did, he tripped stupidly upon the bottom of the curtain. Seeking to regain his footing, he sprawled across the center of the hall.
As he regained his feet, Cleve heard a sound beyond those brass doors. He looked behind him as he reached the door to the anteroom.
Turning, Cleve saw the brass doors opening. Peering between them was the spectacled face of Ling Soo. Cleve’s revolver was in his hand.
The sight of that hated visage maddened him. He pressed the trigger, and fired toward the opening. His first shots made in haste, were wild. The brass doors clanged, and Cleve’s bullets smashed against the emblazoned dragons.
Still firing, with vengeance dominating him, Cleve suddenly realized that he was clicking empty cartridges. His senses returned on the instant.