The Conclave of Shadow Read Online Free Page A

happening, but quickly enough to end it before it became any worse.”
    â€œAnd Mr Long-the-younger?” She kept her tone light, disinterested, but her knuckles were white around the stem of her wineglass. I took it from her before it could snap, which left me foolishly holding two wine glasses. The staff, the guests, and the other Aces were respecting the bubble of empty space around Sylvia and myself.
    â€œNot the same man as the one who created the Wall. I’d say Lung Mian Zi Mien is our best hope for putting an end to Lung Di.”
    â€œSo he got away. This Lung Di?”
    â€œIn a manner of speaking.”
    Sylvia pursed her lips, annoyed.
    â€œLung Mian Zi is well intentioned. Quite brilliant, and could be a formidable ally. Deal with him as you would with me, and you should manage quite well.”
    Sylvia arched a brow. “You mean, pester, prod, manipulate, and generally annoy until you do what I want?”
    I snorted. “Very well, deal with him as I would have you deal with me. Expect exponentially worse recalcitrance if you do not. Understood?”
    â€œVery much not, but the advice is appreciated.” She took back her wineglass, studied me over the rim as though calculating how much more she could tease out of me. “I don’t suppose you’d tell me who this Lung Di is and how he managed to cut China off from the rest of the world? And why?”
    I didn’t dare tell her the how. Argent might focus on science rather than magic, but I didn’t want Sylvia – or more likely one of her underlings – deciding they could capture China’s Guardians and attempt to recreate Lung Di’s wards. As to the why? No, I was not ready to admit to anyone that I had been the reason for so much chaos, that Lung Di had done it to force me into a compact I might never have agreed to otherwise. That to keep my promise, I was sworn to defend him against his enemies – including my children. And that if I broke the compact, the stain on my honor would render my children illegitimate, nullifying any possibility that they might someday be able to permanently remove their uncle from creation. Some days, I barely believed it myself.
    But who? I took a careful sip of my wine, a dry cabernet that tasted of Napa evenings and reminded me of the dinner where Lung Di admitted that he feared my children and what they might do to him. “Would you believe, a dragon?”
    Ever a gentleman, I was ready with my pocket square when she choked on her wine.
----
    N ot even Sylvia Dunbarton could keep the world at bay for long. By the time her coughing fit subsided, several of the more socially oblivious guests had circled us, most of them intent on catching her attention. I was a curiosity. Sylvia was where the true power lay. I abandoned her with my pocket square and made my way around the exhibits. Hardly anyone was paying them any mind, so they were my best hope to avoid the mob.
    I’d clearly chosen the backwards route, starting at a display featuring Argent’s technological advances in agriculture, medicine, and sustainable energy. A slowly spinning globe flashed with pinpricks of light across its surface, demonstrating how much of the world might be powered by Argent’s proprietary energy conversion process in a year, five years, a decade.
    Past the globe, a hands-on exhibit invited guests to touch some of the parts made from the titanium alloy that gave Argent its name, from cooling coils for spaceships to sections of crush-resistant deep water pipes. And of course, a riveted panel from the Kestrel . I ran my fingers over the rivets and moved on to a multimedia installation on the Death Valley sinkhole crisis from a few years back. The display featured the work Argent engineers had done to save the people of the small town that had fallen into the earth. Newsreel-style footage played on a loop, showing La Reina landing on the lip of the depression carrying two