Case 8 - The Vessel of the Black Dragon

Leo had developed a healthy suspicion of phone calls that arrived after dinner.

In his experience, they rarely brought good news. They tended to involve missing people, suspicious noises, or someone discovering that the thing they’d purchased from an antique shop was considerably more dangerous than the price tag suggested.

Tonight, however, the caller sounded more desperate than most.

"Mr Winterhold? My name is Edmund Whitaker. I’ve been given your number by someone who assured me you might be able to help with a rather unusual problem.”

Leo leaned back in his office chair, balancing a pen between his fingers.

"Unusual is a broad category, Mr Whitaker. Are we talking about a missing painting, a haunted grandfather clock, or something that’s recently developed a taste for human flesh?”

There was a brief silence.

“I sincerely hope it’s the first of those.”

“Excellent. We’re off to a promising start. What happened?”

“My collection has been broken into. Several items have been stolen, and one of them is extremely dangerous.”

Leo stopped spinning the pen.

“Define extremely dangerous.”

“The sort of dangerous that makes me wish I’d never taken it out of its vault.”

That sounded considerably less promising.

Leo sat forward.

“Where are you?”

“At my residence. I also operate a small private museum here. I’ll send you the address.”

“Fine. Don’t touch anything else, and try not to open any more mysterious containers before I arrive.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Nothing. I’ll be there shortly.”

Leo ended the call and stared at his phone for a moment.

He’d been hoping for a quiet evening.

Apparently, the universe had other plans.

“One day,” he muttered, reaching for his jacket, “I’m going to get a normal job.”

He’d been saying that for some time.

He suspected it was becoming less likely by the week.

Edmund Whitaker’s residence was a substantial property on the outskirts of Seattle. The house itself was an impressive piece of architecture, but the building behind it was what caught Leo’s attention.

The private museum was constructed from dark stone and glass, with discreet security cameras covering the entrance. Through the windows, Leo could see display cabinets containing ancient coins, sculptures, pottery and objects that looked as though they’d been dug out of the ground rather than purchased from a reputable dealer.

He rang the bell.

Whitaker answered almost immediately.

He was a thin, silver-haired man in his late sixties, wearing a dark cardigan and an expression that suggested he’d spent the last several hours regretting a number of decisions.

"Mr Winterhold. Thank you for coming.”

“Leo’s fine. I reserve the Mr Winterhold for people trying to sell me insurance.”

Whitaker managed a weak smile and ushered him inside.

The museum was impressive. Carefully arranged display cases lined the walls, each containing objects from different periods and cultures. Some were labelled with their origins and estimated ages, while others had no descriptions at all.

Leo noticed that several empty spaces had been left in the displays.

“Quite a collection,” he said.

“Forty years of collecting. Some of these items have been in my family for generations.”

“Which means the insurance paperwork must be an absolute nightmare.”

Whitaker gave him a puzzled look.

“Insurance?”

“Never mind. Show me what happened.”

The collector led him towards a small office at the rear of the museum. A desk stood beside a wall of bookshelves, and several photographs had been arranged along the mantelpiece.

Whitaker gestured for Leo to sit.

“I’ve heard about some of your previous cases,” he began. “A missing woman, strange occurrences in the forests, things that the authorities couldn’t quite explain. I was advised that you were discreet.”

“I try to be. Makes it easier to work when people aren’t constantly asking me questions.”

“Then I hope you’ll understand why I haven’t told the police everything.”

Leo raised an eyebrow.

“That depends on what you’ve left out.”

Whitaker took a deep breath.

“My family has been entrusted with the protection of a collection of dangerous artefacts for generations. We call it the vault, although it’s more of a repository. My father was the guardian before me, and his father before him. The responsibility passes from one generation to the next.”

“And you know what’s in it?”

“Some of it. Enough to understand that certain objects should never be disturbed. But there are things whose origins and purposes have been lost to time. Records have been damaged, translations are incomplete, and some of the artefacts haven’t been opened in centuries.”

“That’s reassuring.”

“I understand how it sounds.”

“Do you? Because from where I’m sitting, it sounds like your family has been keeping a collection of mysterious objects without entirely knowing what they do.”

Whitaker looked uncomfortable.

“When you put it like that...”

“I tend to.”

The collector rubbed his forehead.

“The vault is protected by a series of seals. Most are stable, but one has been giving me trouble recently. The markings began to change, and the energy around the object became increasingly erratic. I decided to inspect it and attempt to reinforce the seal.”

Leo’s expression became more serious.

“What was the artefact?”

“A vase. Or, more accurately, a vessel. It originated in China, though we don’t know exactly when it was made. The records suggest it was created to contain something of considerable power.”

“What sort of something?”

“I don’t know. The last recorded opening was so long ago that the details have become unreliable. There are references to storms, a dragon, and a warning that the vessel must never be opened without the proper rites.”

Leo stared at him.

“A dragon.”

“Yes.”

“Of course it was.”

Whitaker appeared not to hear him.

“Last night, I removed the vessel from the vault to examine the damaged seal. I left it on the counter in the preparation room while I went to the kitchen to get a drink. I was gone for no more than a few minutes when I heard glass breaking.”

“Someone broke in.”

“Yes. I activated the alarm immediately, but the intruders were already inside. By the time the police arrived, several items had been taken.”

“Including the vessel?”

Whitaker nodded.

“The other stolen objects are valuable, but they’re replaceable. The vessel isn’t. If whatever it contains is released, I don’t know what might happen.”

“Do you have a photograph?”

Whitaker opened a drawer and removed a small folder. From it, he produced a photograph of a dark ceramic vase.

It was roughly the size of a large water jug, with a narrow neck, a broad rounded body and a lid secured by a metal clasp. The surface was decorated with intricate patterns depicting clouds, waves and a long, coiling dragon. Its scales had been picked out in faded gold, while its eyes were two small flecks of dark red.

Even in the photograph, something about it felt wrong.

Leo couldn’t explain why. He simply felt a faint pressure behind his eyes as he looked at the image.

“That’s the one?”

“Yes. We call it the Vessel of the Black Dragon. I believe that name was given to it by one of my ancestors, although I can’t be certain.”

Leo examined the photograph more closely.

“And you were trying to repair its seal?”

“Yes.”

“Did you succeed?”

“No.”

“Well, at least we’re narrowing down the list of possible problems.”

Whitaker looked genuinely distressed.

“Please, Leo. I need you to find it before whoever stole it realises what they’ve taken.”

Leo slipped the photograph into his jacket pocket.

“I’ll do what I can. Do you have any idea who might have wanted it?”

“Not specifically. There are collectors who would pay a fortune for an artefact like this. And there are others who would be interested in its contents.”

“Lovely. Criminals with expensive hobbies.”

He stood.

“I’ll start with the stolen goods. If it’s ended up on the black market, I may be able to find out where it’s gone.”

“And if you do find it?”

Leo paused at the door.

“Then I’ll make sure nobody opens it.”

He didn’t mention that he had absolutely no idea how he was going to accomplish that.

It seemed unnecessary to worry the man.

Leo’s office was quiet when he returned, the only sound coming from the faint hum of his computer.

He set the photograph on his desk and began searching.

His usual methods weren’t particularly legal, but they were effective. A few messages to contacts who preferred not to be named, some carefully worded enquiries and a little digging through databases that weren’t supposed to be accessible to the public eventually led him to an underground artefact market operating somewhere in the city.

The market was known for dealing in objects with questionable origins. Most were ordinary stolen antiques, but rumours suggested that certain sellers specialised in items with supernatural properties.

Leo had encountered places like it before.

They tended to attract two kinds of people: those who wanted power and those who wanted to sell it.

Neither group was particularly trustworthy.

By midnight, he had a location.

An abandoned commercial building in an older part of Seattle, supposedly used as a front for a private auction house. His contact had warned him that the market was usually guarded, with armed security at the entrance and cameras covering the surrounding streets.

Leo studied the address.

Then he looked at the photograph of the vase.

“Right. Let’s go find our little pot.”

He grabbed his coat, checked the weapons concealed beneath it and headed for the door.

The building was exactly where his contact had said it would be.

It stood between a closed warehouse and an empty office block, its windows dark and its entrance marked by a faded sign advertising commercial storage. Nothing about it suggested that anything of interest lay inside.

Except for the front door.

It was slightly ajar.

Leo stopped at the entrance.

He glanced up at the security camera above the doorway. Its casing had been smashed, and a bundle of wires hung loose beneath it.

There was no guard.

No vehicle outside.

No sound coming from within.

“Well, that’s not suspicious at all.”

He pushed the door open.

A narrow staircase descended beneath the building, lit by a series of dim emergency lights. Leo made his way down, listening carefully as he went.

At the bottom, he found a heavy metal door standing open.

Beyond it lay a large underground hall.

Or what remained of one.

Tables had been overturned, display cabinets smashed and shelves reduced to splintered wood. Broken glass littered the floor. Papers were scattered everywhere, their pages stained by dark smears that Leo sincerely hoped weren’t blood.

He stepped inside.

The air was thick with the smell of smoke and something sharp and unpleasant, like the air before a lightning strike.

A chair lay crushed beneath a fallen beam. A security guard was sprawled beside the wall, unconscious or worse. Several more figures were scattered across the room, surrounded by the wreckage of what looked like a very expensive auction.

Leo crouched beside the nearest person and checked for a pulse.

Alive.

He moved to the next.

Also alive, though barely conscious.

“What happened here?” he muttered.

No one answered.

Then he saw it.

In the middle of the room, sitting on a stone display plinth, was the vase from Whitaker’s photograph.

The lid lay on the floor beside it.

The Vessel of the Black Dragon was open.

Leo stared at it.

He could feel the energy radiating from it now, a dark, oppressive force that seemed to press against his skin. The air around the vessel shimmered faintly, and the faded golden scales on its surface appeared almost luminous.

Something had escaped.

He approached cautiously, keeping his eyes on the vase.

There was a faint smell of rain.

Not the clean scent of a passing shower, but the heavy, metallic smell of a storm gathering overhead.

Leo stopped a few feet away.

“All right,” he said quietly. “Let’s see what you’ve unleashed.”

He had just leaned forward to examine the inside of the vessel when a cold blade pressed against his throat.

“Do not move.”

Leo went still.

The voice belonged to a woman standing behind him. He could feel her close enough that the slightest movement might bring the knife against his skin.

“Who are you?” she demanded. “And why have you come for the vessel?”

Leo raised his hands slowly.

“Before we get into the questions, I’d like to point out that I’ve only just arrived. Whatever happened here, I wasn’t involved.”

“Answer me.”

“Leo Winterhold. Investigator. I’ve been hired to recover the vase.”

“By whom?”

“Edmund Whitaker. He owns the collection.”

The knife remained against his throat.

“Whitaker is the guardian?”

“That’s what he tells me. I’m beginning to suspect the job description comes with a rather poor pension.”

The woman didn’t laugh.

“Turn around. Slowly.”

Leo obeyed.

She was perhaps in her early thirties, with dark eyes, black hair tied back from her face and a composed expression that gave little away. She wore dark trousers, a long coat and a pair of practical boots. A small collection of charms hung from a cord around her wrist, each marked with symbols Leo didn’t recognise.

The knife in her hand was steady.

More importantly, he could sense magic coming from her.

Not the same kind he used. Hers felt different, older in its structure and unfamiliar in its rhythm, as though it followed rules he hadn’t learned.

“You’re not one of the thieves,” she said at last.

“That’s a relief. I was worried the knife was going to make a second appearance.”

She lowered it a fraction, though she didn’t put it away.

“My name is Mei Lin. I’m a Fangshi.”

Leo tilted his head.

“A Fangshi?”

"An practitioner of ancient Chinese arts. I work with spiritual forces, wards and things that should remain sealed.”

“That sounds considerably more interesting than my job.”

“It is not meant to be interesting.”

“Neither is mine. Yet here we are.”

Mei glanced towards the open vessel.

“I have been tracking this object for several days. Its energy was unstable long before it was stolen. Tonight, I felt the seal break.”

“You can sense it from a distance?”

“I can sense the disturbance it leaves behind. Something has escaped from that vessel, and its energy is spreading.”

Leo looked around at the wreckage.

“I’m guessing this wasn’t caused by a particularly unpleasant customer.”

“No. The people here opened the vessel, whether deliberately or through ignorance. Whatever emerged attacked everything in its path.”

“Do you know what’s inside?”

Mei’s expression darkened.

“I know what the vessel was made to contain. I do not know how much of its power remains.”

“Which is another way of saying we’re in trouble.”

“We are in considerable danger.”

“See? I prefer my way. It’s more concise.”

For the first time, something close to amusement flickered across her face.

Then she looked back at the vase.

“We cannot leave it here. If the creature is free, it will seek out sources of spiritual energy to restore its strength. The longer it remains loose, the more dangerous it will become.”

Leo studied her.

“Then I suggest we stop talking and start tracking.”

Mei finally put away her knife.

“Agreed.”

They left the market through the rear entrance, taking care to avoid the main road.

Mei led the way, pausing every few minutes to examine the air or place her hand against a nearby surface. She seemed to be following something Leo couldn’t see.

“What exactly are you looking for?” he asked.

“The energy left behind by the creature. It is faint, but its passage has disturbed the natural balance around it.”

“Can you tell which way it went?”

She closed her eyes.

For a moment, the charms around her wrist began to tremble.

“North-east.”

Leo glanced towards the sky.

The clouds above Seattle had begun to gather, darkening the horizon. A few drops of rain landed on his cheek.

“Convenient.”

Mei opened her eyes.

“The weather is responding to its presence. The creature’s power is not fully restored, but it is already influencing the atmosphere.”

“Let me guess. The worse the weather gets, the closer we are?”

“Not exactly. But a sudden change in the weather may tell us when it is using its power.”

Leo looked up as another gust of wind swept through the street.

“Fantastic. I’ve always wanted to be chased by a walking storm.”

They continued through the city, following the faint trail of energy.

As they walked, the weather grew increasingly unsettled. The wind picked up, rattling signs and sending loose rubbish tumbling along the pavement. Rain began to fall in thin, slanting sheets.

Mei stopped at a junction and crouched beside a patch of wet ground.

“Here.”

Leo joined her.

“What is it?”

“The energy is stronger. It passed through this area recently.”

He looked at the puddles forming around the kerb.

The water was moving.

Not flowing towards the drains as it should, but spiralling slowly in a tight circle.

Leo frowned.

“That’s not normal.”

“No.”

Mei rose to her feet.

“The creature is gathering strength.”

They followed the trail onwards, leaving the buildings behind and eventually reaching a large park on the outskirts of the city.

The place was almost deserted. Rain swept across the open grass, and the trees bent beneath the force of the wind. Beyond the paths, the woods were swallowed by darkness.

Leo slowed as they entered the park.

Something was watching them.

He couldn’t see it, but he could feel its presence. The same sensation he’d experienced in the underground market had returned, only now it was stronger.

He glanced towards the trees.

“Mei?”

“I feel it too.”

The wind abruptly stopped.

For one impossible moment, the park became silent.

Then the ground shook.

A tremendous force struck them both, hurling Leo backwards across the grass. He hit the ground hard, rolled onto his shoulder and came to a stop beside a tree.

Pain flared through his side.

“Bloody hell!”

He forced himself upright.

Mei had been thrown several feet away, but she was already getting to her feet. Her hands were raised, and the charms around her wrist glowed faintly.

A roar rolled across the park.

The clouds above them twisted into a vast spiral.

Then something enormous emerged from the storm.

At first, Leo thought it was a shadow moving between the trees. Then lightning flashed, illuminating a long, serpentine body covered in dark scales.

A dragon.

Its body coiled through the air, twisting between the trees as though gravity were little more than a suggestion. Four powerful limbs extended from its torso, each ending in curved claws. A mane of black, flowing tendrils framed its head, while two long horns swept backwards from its skull.

Its whiskers drifted in the wind like strands of smoke.

Its eyes burned with a deep golden light.

Unlike the dragons Leo had encountered in European legends, this creature possessed no great wings. It moved through the air with an effortless, fluid grace, its body stretching and curling through the storm clouds.

Lightning flickered along its scales.

Rain streamed from its jaws.

And when it opened its mouth, Leo saw rows of sharp teeth behind a dark, forked tongue.

The creature circled overhead before lowering its head towards them.

Mei stared at it in disbelief.

“The vessel contained a Chinese dragon.”

Leo brushed the mud from his jacket.

“Yes, thank you. I’d gathered that from the horns and the general lack of friendliness.”

“This is no ordinary dragon. It is an ancient storm dragon, a creature that once fed upon supernatural energy to increase its power. The vessel was designed to keep it contained.”

“Then I take it opening the lid wasn’t part of the release procedure?”

Mei shot him a sharp look.

“Now is not the time.”

The dragon roared, and a wave of force swept across the park.

Leo threw himself behind the tree as the blast tore branches from the surrounding woodland. The trunk shuddered under the impact, showering him with splinters.

He peered around the edge.

The creature was circling them, its golden eyes fixed on their movements.

“It sensed us,” Mei shouted over the wind. “Our magical energy is attracting it!”

“Well, that’s rude. I didn’t invite it.”

The dragon swooped low.

Leo threw himself aside as its claws tore through the ground where he’d been standing. Mud and grass erupted into the air.

He scrambled to his feet and raised his hand.

A thin line of ice formed across his palm.

The dragon turned towards him.

Leo smiled without humour.

“All right, then. Let’s see how you like the cold.”

The fight was over almost as soon as it began.

Not because the dragon was weak, but because Leo and Mei quickly discovered how difficult it was to fight something that could control the weather.

The creature summoned a wall of rain that swept across the park with enough force to knock Leo off his feet. Wind tore at the trees, and lightning struck the ground around them, leaving smoking craters in the grass.

Every time Leo attempted to close the distance, the dragon rose into the air and sent another blast of wind crashing towards him.

He tried a spell, but the dragon twisted away before the ice could reach it.

“Any suggestions?” he shouted.

Mei was crouched behind a fallen tree, drawing symbols in the wet earth.

“Keep it occupied!”

“Excellent plan! I was considering asking it to sit down for a conversation!”

The dragon swept towards him again.

Leo waited until the last possible moment before throwing himself aside. Its claws struck the ground, and he felt the impact through his boots.

He rolled onto his back and thrust out his hand.

"Glacia!”

Ice surged across the ground, spreading beneath the dragon’s body and coating its claws. For a brief moment, the creature’s movement slowed.

Leo seized the opportunity and launched another blast of ice towards its head.

The dragon recoiled, roaring furiously.

Then its eyes flared.

A burst of energy exploded from its body, shattering the ice and sending Leo flying backwards.

He landed heavily, the breath knocked from his lungs.

For several seconds, he couldn’t move.

The dragon rose above him, its body twisting through the rain.

Leo stared at it.

“Right,” he wheezed. “Definitely stronger than a kappa.”

He forced himself to his feet.

The creature was still recovering from the effort of its attack. Its movements were powerful, but not as fluid as before. The storm it had summoned was beginning to falter around the edges.

Mei had been right. The dragon wasn’t at full strength yet.

But it was getting there.

Leo looked towards her.

She was standing in the centre of a circle of symbols, her hands moving through a series of precise gestures. The charms around her wrist had grown brighter, and a faint golden light was gathering between her palms.

“What are you doing?” he shouted.

“Preparing a binding!”

“How long?”

“Longer if you keep asking questions!”

“Fair enough!”

The dragon roared again, and the wind surged.

Leo felt the pressure building before the attack came.

He threw himself sideways as a bolt of lightning struck the ground beside him. The force sent him tumbling through the grass, and his shoulder hit a stone path hard enough to leave him seeing stars.

He lay there for a moment, blinking rain from his eyes.

Then he looked up.

The dragon was turning towards Mei.

She was still working on the binding, her concentration fixed entirely on the symbols before her.

It had seen her.

Leo pushed himself upright.

“Oh, no you don’t.”

He raised both hands.

The air around him grew colder.

Frost spread across the grass, racing outwards from his boots. Water froze in the puddles, and the rain falling around him began to crystallise into tiny shards of ice.

He could feel the magic gathering within him, cold and heavy, responding to his will.

The dragon turned.

Its golden eyes fixed on him.

Leo drew a breath.

“Come on, then.”

The creature charged.

Leo waited.

At the last possible moment, he thrust both hands forward.

"Magnara Glacia Vincara!”

The ground erupted.

Enormous chains of ice surged upwards, twisting through the air like living serpents. They wrapped around the dragon’s body, one after another, locking across its coils and pinning its limbs.

The creature bellowed as the chains tightened.

Its body thrashed violently, sending shards of ice flying in every direction. The ground cracked beneath its weight, and the storm overhead raged as it fought to break free.

Leo clenched his fists.

The chains trembled.

He felt the dragon’s power pressing against his magic, threatening to tear the bindings apart.

“Mei!” he shouted. “Now would be an excellent time!”

She rose from the circle, her hands glowing with golden light.

The dragon twisted its head towards her, jaws opening wide.

Mei spoke a series of words in Chinese, her voice steady despite the chaos around her. The symbols she’d drawn in the earth began to shine, and the golden light between her palms expanded into a circular pattern.

At her feet lay a discarded ceramic pot, apparently left behind by someone who’d been using the park for reasons Leo had no desire to investigate.

It was cracked along one side and covered in mud.

Mei seized it.

“That will have to do.”

Leo stared at her.

“You’re going to put that thing in a flowerpot?”

“A vessel is a vessel. Hold it still!”

“That’s a sentence I never expected to hear.”

The dragon roared and pulled against the chains.

One of them snapped.

Leo staggered as the strain surged through his magic.

“Mei, I really hope you know what you’re doing!”

“So do I!”

She stepped forward, holding the pot in both hands.

The symbols around her wrist blazed with light. She began chanting, her voice rising above the storm as the air around the dragon shimmered.

The creature fought harder.

Another chain snapped.

Leo felt the bindings beginning to fail.

He gritted his teeth and thrust his hands forward, pouring more of his magic into the remaining ice.

The chains thickened, their surfaces hardening into solid, translucent blue.

The dragon’s head jerked upwards, and a roar of fury shook the park.

Mei’s chant reached its peak.

A circle of golden light appeared beneath the creature, spreading across the ground in intricate patterns. The dragon’s body began to glow faintly, its dark scales becoming translucent as though its very essence were being drawn out.

It struggled desperately.

Leo’s arms trembled.

“Any day now!”

Mei shouted the final words of the binding.

The golden circle surged upwards.

The dragon gave one last, thunderous roar.

Then its enormous body collapsed into a twisting stream of dark energy.

The stream spiralled through the air, fighting against the pull of Mei’s magic, before being dragged into the ceramic pot.

For a brief moment, the vessel glowed with a brilliant golden light.

Then everything stopped.

The storm vanished.

The wind died.

Rain ceased to fall, and the clouds above the park began to break apart, revealing the dark sky beyond.

Leo lowered his hands.

The ice chains dissolved into a shower of glittering fragments.

Mei stood perfectly still, holding the pot.

Neither of them spoke for several seconds.

Finally, Leo looked at the cracked ceramic vessel.

“So. Is it in there?”

Mei nodded.

“For now.”

“That is not the most reassuring answer I’ve ever heard.”

“It will hold the dragon, provided the seal is maintained. But this vessel is damaged. It cannot remain here.”

Leo looked around at the ruined grass, broken branches and shattered path.

“Agreed. I think we’ve upset the locals enough for one evening.”

The journey back to Whitaker’s residence was considerably quieter than the trip out.

Mei carried the pot in a padded bag, keeping it close to her body. Every so often, she checked the seal with a series of gestures, and each time the faint glow around her fingers seemed to settle the energy within.

Leo walked beside her, nursing a sore shoulder and a growing list of questions.

“So, what exactly is a Fangshi?”

Mei glanced at him.

“I already explained.”

“You said you practise ancient Chinese arts. That’s a broad category. Does it involve spells? Rituals? Summoning things? Or is it one of those jobs where everyone knows what it means except the person doing it?”

She considered the question.

"Fangshi were practitioners of esoteric arts in ancient China. The term covers different traditions, including divination, ritual practices, alchemy and methods of dealing with spiritual forces. My work is concerned primarily with dangerous supernatural entities and the objects used to contain them.”

“That sounds remarkably similar to what I do.”

“Except I know how to contain the things I encounter.”

Leo gave her a wounded look.

“That feels unnecessarily personal.”

“You did well against the dragon.”

“Thank you.”

“But your bindings would not have held much longer.”

“You’re welcome.”

Mei shook her head, though he thought he caught the faintest hint of a smile.

“Your magic is unusual. You have a strong affinity for ice.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“Most practitioners have to work within the limits of their training. You seem able to draw upon the element instinctively.”

Leo shrugged.

“I’ve always been better with ice than anything else.”

“That may prove useful. But raw power is not the same as control.”

He glanced at her.

“Do you give lessons?”

“Only to people who listen.”

“Ah. That’s me out, then.”

By the time they reached Whitaker’s residence, the first hints of dawn were beginning to appear over the horizon.

Whitaker was waiting in the museum, pacing between the display cases. He looked as though he hadn’t slept since Leo had left.

When the door opened, he hurried towards them.

“Have you found it?”

Leo stepped aside, allowing Mei to enter.

“We found it.”

Whitaker’s face brightened with relief.

Then he noticed the padded bag in Mei’s hands.

“Is that...?”

“The vessel,” she confirmed. “The dragon has been contained again, but the original seal was already failing before the theft. Someone needs to examine every ward and protective measure in your vault.”

Whitaker looked from Mei to Leo.

“You caught the dragon?”

“Technically, Mei caught it. I mostly tried to stop it from flattening me.”

“Leo’s modest,” Mei said. “His magic made the binding possible.”

Leo looked at her.

“Careful. Compliments like that will go straight to my head.”

Whitaker seemed too overwhelmed to respond to their exchange.

“Thank you. Both of you. I cannot begin to express what this means.”

“There’s no need,” Leo replied. “Although I’d strongly recommend improving your security. A vault full of dangerous artefacts probably shouldn’t have a system that can be compromised by someone looking for a quick payday.”

Whitaker lowered his eyes.

“You’re right. I’ve been responsible for this collection for many years, and I allowed myself to believe the protections were sufficient.”

“That’s the trouble with old systems. People assume that because they’ve worked for centuries, they’ll work forever.”

Mei nodded.

“I will remain here for a time. I need to inspect the seals, examine the other artefacts and determine why this vessel became unstable. If your family has been guarding these objects for generations, then your records may contain information that has been lost elsewhere.”

Whitaker looked at her in surprise.

“You would do that?”

“Yes. The dragon’s escape suggests there may be weaknesses in the vault’s protections. We cannot risk another incident.”

“Then you have my gratitude. You will have full access to the collection and anything else you need.”

Mei inclined her head.

“That will be sufficient.”

Leo looked between them.

“Well, that sounds wonderfully organised. One ancient collection of dangerous objects, one qualified guardian, and absolutely no reason for me to be involved any further.”

Whitaker smiled weakly.

“I hope not.”

“Believe me, so do I.”

By the time Leo returned to his office, the sun was rising.

He dropped his jacket over a chair and lowered himself onto the sofa, wincing as his shoulder protested.

The night had been exhausting.

He’d tracked down a stolen artefact, discovered a secret black market in supernatural objects, met a Fangshi and helped seal an ancient Chinese dragon inside a battered ceramic pot.

All in a night’s work.

He stared at the ceiling.

There was something about Mei Lin that interested him. She clearly knew more about the supernatural world than most people he’d encountered, and her magic operated in ways he didn’t fully understand.

He hoped she’d stay in Seattle for a while. There were plenty of questions he wanted to ask her, and the idea of having another practitioner to consult was appealing.

Of course, that depended on whether their next meeting involved fewer storms and considerably less property damage.

Leo closed his eyes.

Then he opened them again.

He’d forgotten to ask Whitaker one important question.

What else was in the vault?

He sat up slowly.

A collection of dangerous artefacts, some of which hadn’t been opened in centuries. Incomplete records. Failing seals.

And now a Fangshi had arrived to examine them all.

Leo considered getting back up, calling Whitaker and asking for a list.

Instead, he lay back down.

Whatever was in that vault could wait until tomorrow.

For once, he was going to let someone else worry about it.

He pulled a cushion over his face.

“Next time someone calls me about an antique,” he muttered, “I’m asking whether it comes with a dragon before I agree to anything.”

Then, finally, Leo fell asleep.

For a few precious hours, at least, the world could look after itself.