An old man sat in an old, carved teak chair He wore a white silk robe with a black-and-white yin and yang symbol. He was almost bald, with parchment like skin, and a long white beard. His head tilted downward as he looked at us through half closed eyes.
“Come forward,” he said in a soft voice with a Chinese accent.
Nessa and I moved closer until we were within six feet of him.
“Why does a nightwalker seek me out?”
She bowed. “Honorable one, we have a dangerous demon to deal with. A friend told me you might help us.”
“How did you get this?” He held up the ivory carving. His face remained expressionless, and his voice a whisper.
“About a hundred years ago I was in Paris. I met a monk who called himself Shien Po. We talked one evening, and he gave it to me as a parting gift. He said it would be useful one day.”
The old man smiled. “A greater honor than you realize. You talked with Yuan-Li Quan.” Nessa looked up and her eyes widened. “The ancient Immortal chose to wander through Western Europe at a time of change. If he saw no evil in you, then I can find none. I have forgotten my manners. I am Chen Li.”
“I am Nessa and this is Frank.”
Chen Li nodded at me and looked back at her. “And who sent you to me?”
“The Knower who lives beneath the streets.”
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