Li Mei sat in her new office within the Imperial Bureau of Alchemy. The room smelled of polished wood and fresh herbs. She looked at a stack of reports from the western borders of the Tang Dynasty. Her father's journal lay on the desk beside her. This journal remained her golden finger because it helped her understand the unusual medical cases of the empire. She was the Head of the Bureau and she felt a great responsibility to protect the health of the people.
A knock sounded on the door. Prince Zhao entered the room. He walked with the confidence of a leader who had stabilized his kingdom. He wore a traveling cloak over his official robes. His obsidian eyes were focused on the scrolls in Mei's hands. He no longer carried the scent of the wolf curse. He smelled of fresh air and the leather of his horse's saddle.
"A caravan has arrived at the western gate of the city," Zhao said. "The merchants are from the city of Samarkand. They are carrying silk and spices but they are also carrying a sickness."
Mei stood up and grabbed her medical kit. She followed Zhao out of the palace and toward the West Market. The sun was hot on the stone streets. The city was busy again because the people felt safe under the new administration. This was an example of the reconstruction phase of their journey. They were moving from the internal palace conflict to a threat from the outside world.
They reached the quarantine area near the city wall. A group of twenty merchants sat on the ground. They looked tired and their skin was very dry. Li Mei used her golden finger to analyze the air around the caravan. She did not smell the arsenic or the silver-shadow musk of the werewolf curse. Instead she identified a scent that smelled like dried sand and old bones. It was a dusty and ancient smell that she had never encountered in Chang'an.
"Do not touch the goods," Mei warned the guards. "The scent is attached to the crates of spices."
A merchant with a long gray beard looked at Mei. He spoke in a shaky voice.
"We found a tomb in the desert," the merchant said. "We opened a sealed chest to look for gold. Since that day my men have been unable to drink water. Their skin is turning into dust."
Mei approached the lead merchant. She maintained her rationality and did not show fear. She looked at his hands. The skin was gray and cracked like the earth during a drought. This was a new kind of oriental suspense. The threat did not come from a predator but from an ancient environmental hazard.
"Is this a curse or a poison?" Zhao asked. He stayed close to Mei to provide protection.
"It is a biological agent from the ancient world," Mei replied. "I can smell the spores in the air. They are feeding on the moisture in the human body."
This was a time limited crisis. If the spores spread into the city water supply the people of Chang'an would face a new apocalypse. Mei realized that the Empress Dowager was not the only enemy of the Tang. The world was full of mysterious outer forces that her father had barely begun to document.
"We must burn the crates and isolate the merchants," Mei said. She turned to Zhao with a look of empathy. "We also need to find the tomb they described. If more merchants go there the spores will continue to arrive."
Zhao nodded. He recognized the danger to his kingdom building efforts. He ordered the guards to establish a strict perimeter.
"I will lead a small unit to the western desert," Zhao said. "Mei, you must find a way to stop the drying of the skin before these men turn to dust."