In the week following the first expedition, word spread quickly through Khanbaliq that Beatriss and Tetsukichi had lifted the curse of the foreign lord. The rumor grew with each retelling. By the time the new party set out, a small procession trailed them through the Outer City.
Outside the southern gate they found an even larger crowd—nearly two hundred people scattered across the floodplain between the new walls and the river. All eyes were fixed on the dark outline of Jourdain’s ruined compound. None dared draw too near; spectators watched from trees or from the shells of other buildings a hundred paces off. As Beatriss’s group advanced, the hangers-on melted away until only the bravest lingered at the gate.
There they met a band of a dozen armed men, self-appointed guards of the place. Their leader, Ho-Jun, and his lieutenant Chong, claimed they were keeping the city safe—nothing comes out, nothing goes in. Exceptions, of course, could be made for heroes. After a brief exchange they joined the expedition, swaggering and eager for glory.
Inside, the rooms of the ground floor were unchanged: silent, dust-coated, and now strangely mundane without the presence of Jourdain’s spirit. Ho-Jun and Chong helped force open several doors and quickly claimed the choicest bottles from the old wine cellar. The others searched for valuables with more restraint, then climbed to the upper story.
Behind one locked door they heard a woman’s voice.
“Jourdain? Please. I forgive you. Let me out.”
When Beatriss answered, “It isn’t Jourdain,” the tone changed. The voice became a snarl, and a gray, vengeful figure stepped through the wall. Between Cair’s spells and the swords of Beatriss and Tetsukichi the spirit was banished. Behind the door they found her mortal remains—a long-dead woman, still adorned with jeweled rings. The jewels were taken, and the party withdrew. Ho-Jun and Chong gathered more liquor on the way out. Outside, the crowd greeted them as victors.
They returned the next morning, intent on a thorough survey. The opportunists had been busy: two guards now stood before the padlocked gate collecting “safety fees.” After paying, the party entered and found Ho-Jun, Chong, and several companions already inside, drinking and entertaining women from the city. Most were incapable of standing; the house reeked of spilled wine and burning opium. Still, Ho-Jun insisted on joining the explorers again, and one of the women demanded to see the upper floors. No one refused her.
The exploration was brief and disastrous. In the library, a concealed panel gave way to a hidden chamber. The instant the secret door opened, there was a muffled blast—a gout of fire and dust that killed Ho-Jun and the curious woman outright. Beyond the smoke, the survivors discovered the preserved corpse of Lord Jourdain, a cabinet of magical instruments, and within a chalk circle on the floor, a seated figure—Bayemon, the demon.
The creature raised its head and spoke with a voice that was both courteous and venomous. It asked to be released. Beatriss refused. Tetsukichi, though tempted to question it further, obeyed her word. No one was permitted to touch the corpse or the artifacts.
Bayemon smiled.
“Someone will free me in time,” he said. “I will remember those who refused.”
The group backed away and sealed the door. They continued through the upper floor, defeating an invisible guardian that lingered near the room of a dead magician, and carried off what treasure they could manage.
Wounded and burdened, they made for the exit. In the entry hall Chong confronted them, furious at the loss of his companion. When they admitted Ho-Jun’s death and offered ten taels in compensation, he demanded the whole purse. The party retreated toward the gate, Chong and his men in pursuit.
At the last moment Cair raised his hands and muttered a spell; the padlock on the gate burst open with a crack. The adventurers slipped through, slamming the doors behind them. The mob outside parted in confusion as they fled across the floodplain, smoke rising once again from the house of Lord Jourdain.
Addendum – The Mirror Room of Lord Jourdain
It had happened late in the day. The party had already discovered the hidden library and sealed away the demon when they came upon another narrow corridor lined with warped mirrors. Most were cracked or filmed with dust, but one—taller and framed in tarnished bronze—still caught the light.
From within its surface pulsed a dim gold radiance, faintly rhythmic, like breath. Tetsukichi, ever curious, leaned closer to study the glass. The glow intensified, the reflection bending and twisting until the others could no longer see him clearly. Then, with a soundless flash, the light burst across the hall.
By the time they returned to Khanbaliq that evening, he was quieter than usual. Walking through the narrow streets near the southern gate, he flinched at the sound of dogs barking in the distance. When
Beatriss asked what was wrong, he hesitated before answering:
“They’re not barking at us. They’re arguing about supper.”
She stared, unsure whether he was joking. But as they passed a cluster of caged birds outside a wine shop, his expression changed again—listening, understanding. From that day, Tetsukichi began to hear the voices of animals, not as sounds but as words: curt, emotional, alive.
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