Linked: The War of the Gems - Book 1

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Linked: The War of the Gems - Book 1 Page 3

by Alexandra Johnson


  Her father pulled his phone out of his pocket and started punching in a number. She didn’t know who it belonged to. “Dad? Who are you calling?”

  “The hospital. Maybe we can get the gem out there and find some . . . friends to take you somewhere safe.”

  Friends? As in the men in the white coats? Her father really thought she’d lost her mind. He was going to send her to an asylum because he wouldn’t listen to her.

  But how could he understand that if he wouldn’t listen to her?

  Mulan stood at the side of the bed, helpless. “Your family has bodyguards?”

  She didn’t know, but she had to try something—anything. Aoi grabbed his hands tight, stopping him from typing in one more number. His hands were larger than hers, his thumb grazing the gem, but if she tried hard enough she could keep him still.

  Mr. Arisawa pulled against her grip. “Aoi, stop—”

  “Please! Just listen to me! I’m not crazy, I just want you to meet the spirit in my gem.”

  Suddenly, her father stopped fighting her. It was like he’d been frozen. His eyes had gone wide as he blankly stared ahead. Aoi turned to see what he was looking at. Slowly, hesitantly, he raised his head, meeting the gaze of the Chinese woman standing a few inches from him.

  He yelped in surprise, jerking away from Aoi’s grip and backing away. At least, he tried to. The bed provided little room to back away and, in seconds, he fell off the other side and hit his head with a SMACK.

  “Dad!” Aoi scrambled across the bed. Mr. Arisawa sat up slowly with a groan. Finally, he was able to find words enough to speak.

  “Wh-who is that?” he demanded.

  Aoi smiled nervously. At least he could see Mulan now. “That’s Hua Mulan, the spirit I was trying to introduce you to.”

  Mulan shuffled around the side of the bed. “I am Hua Mulan, spirit of the blue gem in your daughter’s hand.” Mulan bowed politely. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Arisawa-san.”

  Mr. Arisawa took a moment to compose himself. “Ryouji Arisawa,” he managed to stutter out. “The pleasure’s all mine.” He rubbed the back of his head as he climbed back onto the bed.

  Aoi felt bad for him. Even if she was thrilled he no longer thought she was crazy, he still looked so lost and confused. She didn’t blame him. She felt the same way as him to an extent.

  Speaking of being confused, Aoi still had something to ask Mulan. Something was bugging her and she wanted to understand why it had happened. “Hey, Hua-san, why couldn’t Dad see you?”

  Mulan smiled knowingly all of a sudden. It was like this woman really had all of the answers. “I remember now. Sorry. If I’m to be seen by someone other than the holder, they must touch the holder’s gem while giving some kind of an introduction. It’s been so long that I’d forgotten.”

  So long? How did she learn something like that without a holder? Aoi’s brows furrowed. “I don’t get it,” she mumbled. “How did you learn that?” If she was trapped in the gem for a thousand years, she shouldn’t have been able to learn anything.

  “There’s a world within the gem, young Arisawa-san, or in my case, a small town. There’s information well hidden in there. If I’m able to find it, I’m allowed to keep it.”

  “And you learned this in there?” Aoi asked.

  Mulan nodded. “Yes, a very long time ago.”

  Aoi wished she’d remembered sooner, or had never forgotten at all. Meeting Mulan and dealing with the gem was confusing and stressful as it was. The last thing Aoi needed was added stress from her father because he thought she was going nuts. But now was better than not at all. Aoi would take what she could get.

  Mr. Arisawa cleared his throat and leaned forward, eyes bright with interest. It was almost like he’d heard an interesting proposal about cabbage growth at one of his meetings—not that Aoi had ever been to one. “So this gem is your afterlife, Hua . . . Mulan, was it?”

  “Oh, no. Not at all.” Mulan shook her head. “While the afterlife also houses the dead, the two share nothing in common. Granted, it has gotten quieter lately.”

  Aoi kept forgetting Mulan was dead. But it made sense. She lived a thousand years ago, after all. She wondered what it was like to be dead. Was it scary? Was it hard? Mulan was the closest thing to a friend she had here, and Aoi worried about her.

  Outside, the sun had finally dipped beneath the horizon. Aoi leaned over and clicked on the lamp by her bed. Her father blinked and squinted at the change. They hadn’t noticed how dark it had gotten.

  Aoi thought of another question. “When you disappear, do you go into the world in the gem?”

  Mulan opened her mouth to reply, but Mr. Arisawa interrupted her. “Disappear?”

  In the blink of an eye, Mulan was gone.

  “She’s gone!” Mr. Arisawa looked around, eyes wide.

  Mulan’s voice echoed throughout the room. “Yes, I return to the gem, but I can still see you. And hear you.”

  Mulan took form before the two once more. “But it’s not the gem that’s important.” She turned to Aoi’s father. “It’s your daughter.”

  His brows raised in surprise. “What?”

  The warrior lowered her gaze, smoothed her skirt. “Thanks to the gem in her hand, I’m certain your daughter can do amazing things, given time and willingness. However, though she can do great things, she will be in great danger as well.”

  Mr. Arisawa’s body tensed. “Great danger?” he repeated, his tone stern. Mr. Arisawa had always been protective of Aoi. She was his only child. “And just what is this ‘great danger’?”

  “It’s quite possible we shall face those who wish to harm your daughter. Maybe do worse than that.”

  Mr. Arisawa’s silence made it clear he was less than pleased with this idea. Aoi folded her hands, waiting. But he remained silent, letting the woman finish.

  “However, I will not allow her to run off without something to protect herself with. I will take it upon myself to train her as well.” Mulan folded her arms against her chest, trying to close off room for argument.

  Aoi’s mouth fell open. Train her? She wasn’t going to do anything of the sort. She thought they’d had this conversation already.

  Mr. Arisawa raised his brows. “You mean you’re giving Aoi a weapon? Hua-san, I don’t know if Aoi mentioned this, but my daughter wouldn’t fight if her life depended on it.”

  “I did mention it, Dad,” Aoi spoke through gritted teeth. “She didn’t listen.”

  Her father hesitated before finally giving a reply, his tone adamant. “If my daughter doesn’t wish to fight, don’t make her.”

  “Thank you, Dad.” Aoi breathed a sigh of relief. She didn’t want to have to turn Mulan down by herself. It was too hard.

  “But, Arisawa-san, your daughter will be in danger.”

  “Then get her out of it. Can’t you just . . . unlink or something?”

  Mulan’s lips thinned, anger sparkled in her brown eyes. “If only I could, but I may be in that world another thousand years while yours falls apart.”

  Aoi bit her lip, not hard enough for it to hurt, but enough for her to feel pressure. She felt bad about this, but she just couldn’t do it. She couldn’t fight.

  “Hua-san, please, don’t unlink with me,” Aoi said softly. She was afraid to be alone. She didn’t want to fight, but she didn’t want to lose a friend either.

  “I won’t,” Mulan said. “But I want you to seriously think about joining the battle.”

  “I will,” Aoi lied.

  Her father looked to her and quirked a brow, as if sensing her lie. But Mulan didn’t budge. She was none the wiser. As if to help with her lie, Aoi’s father said, “If that’s what my daughter wants, then you have my permission. Just . . . keep her safe.”

  Aoi wasn’t used to a truly dark night. No streetlights shone through her window, no blinking signs or blaring headlights. Just stars and the quiet breath of the wind. Everything had finally calmed down. Her father no longer thought she was crazy. Every
thing was as normal as it could be.

  Fixing up her room wasn’t exactly what Aoi called a good time. It was strange and lonely. The reality of leaving her old friends behind was starting to sink in. Sure, she could talk to them online, but she couldn’t see them in person. They were too far away for that.

  At least she had Mulan to keep her company. Aoi rearranged her things to her liking, while Mulan sat on her bed. The spirit may have been able to touch people, but she couldn’t move physical objects. Aoi had to do this alone. But Mulan spoke to her the whole time. They chatted about the different gadgets and technology in Aoi’s room, Aoi occasionally pausing her work to demonstrate something. Mulan was fascinated by her flameless candle sitting on her bedside. Aoi flicked the lamp on and off for her a few times before she asked Mulan if she could stop. The conversation drifted to other, more personal things. They talked about Mulan’s adventures and Aoi’s mother, about Aoi’s love of video games and going for walks—the latter a passion the girls shared. Talking made things go a little quicker, but it wasn’t enough for completely distract Aoi from her aching loneliness.

  Finally, everything was unpacked. Aoi flopped down on her bed with a sigh, burying her head in her pillow. She hated it here. She didn’t want to move. She didn’t want to be alone. “I want to go home . . .” she sniffled.

  “Arisawa-san,” Mulan said softly, moving to sit next to the girl, “you are home.”

  Aoi shook her head, not moving from her spot. “This isn’t home. Home is where my friends are.” Her voice cracked. Then the tears came.

  Mulan had no words for her. Silently, the warrior rubbed Aoi’s back with a surprising gentleness. After a few seconds of silence, she began to hum. It sounded like a lullaby.

  Aoi listened quietly for a while, before sighing again. “Dad’s right. I am afraid of making new friends. I don’t know how.”

  The humming stopped. “What do you mean?”

  Aoi turned her head on the pillow. She didn’t know how to put it, so she said the first thing that came to her mind. “I’m afraid of people.”

  Mulan remained silent, and a wave of panic washed over Aoi. Mulan must have thought she was strange. Or that she was lying.

  But that was just the way she was. People terrified her. Talking to new people set Aoi’s heart racing. Talking to groups of new people was near impossible. Even the silence of friends was assumed to be a fault on Aoi’s part.

  Aoi didn’t know what to do, so she kept talking. “I don’t know how to talk to them or what to say. If I’m lucky, I can click with people, and pretty much everything’s OK when I do.”

  “Like you did with me.” Mulan’s eyes were wide. She didn’t sound skeptical. Aoi was grateful for that.

  She nodded. “It’s because you’re like me, I think.”

  “Because we’re protective by nature and lonely due to circumstances, I take it?”

  Aoi nodded again, then sat up. Her arms wrapped tightly around her pillow, and her chin rested on top of it. “Mm-hmm,” she mumbled.

  “I see.” The warrior reached an arm towards Aoi, but hesitated.

  “Hua-san?”

  That was all she needed to prompt her. Mulan wrapped an arm around Aoi, pulling the blonde to the warrior’s side. She rested her head upon Aoi’s in an almost motherly way.

  But it was nice. Aoi’s mother was so far away. Aoi needed someone like her in her life desperately, whether it be in the form of a sisterly or motherly figure, deceased or living.

  Aoi opened her mouth to thank her for her kindness, but a yawn cut her off. “Sorry.” Her cheeks flushed, but she hid it as best as she could by burying her head in her pillow.

  “It’s OK, Arisawa-chan. It’s been a long day. We both need our rest.”

  Mulan was right. After everything that happened today, Aoi needed all the rest she could get. Aoi climbed under the covers of her bed. “Goodnight, Hua-san.”

  “And goodnight to you as well, Arisawa-chan. Rest well and think on my proposal.” And, that said, Aoi clicked off the lamp and Mulan released her physical form, vanishing from sight.

  Aoi pulled her laptop from the bedside table onto her lap. She stared at the computer screen, tapping her fingers impatiently on the keyboard, though not hard enough to actually type anything. No one was online at the moment, and she didn’t know how long she could wait. It seemed like her friends were never going to come online.

  But what if they did? She wanted to be there to talk to them. She wanted to see what they were up to, even if she couldn’t exactly share what she did that day. The last thing she wanted was for them to think she was crazy. She definitely couldn’t say, “Hey, guys. I met the ghost of a Chinese warrior and she thinks we’re supposed to go on some crazy mission. She wants to teach me to fight. Isn’t that crazy?”

  Her eyes drooped. She wanted to stay up a little longer, to see if someone would come on. She’d been waiting all day. Not that she minded! They were probably just busy. That’s why they couldn’t come online or return her texts. That’s all.

  They’d probably come online tomorrow. She could talk to them then and make up for how little they’d spoken lately.

  For now, she needed to sleep. She shut her laptop, plugged in her phone, and slipped deeper under the covers. Sleep came quickly, and she didn’t fight it. She wanted to sleep.

  Aoi stood in a lonely, rural Chinese town. Paper lanterns hung from the doorways, painted bright red with decorative little murals. There was so much detail, and Aoi felt awake, but she must be dreaming. It was the only thing that made any sense. How could she be in China?

  The streets were quiet and empty. There were no vendors selling crops or goods. There were no children playing in the street. There weren’t even old men playing games in the shade of the shops. Only Aoi was there.

  Aoi looked up to see a brilliant blue sky, sparkling and bright, almost like the gem in her hand. However, in that sky were dark cracks. Likewise, the street below her, perhaps the main street, had a giant crack down it, as if something large had smashed it.

  Is this . . . my gem?

  Aoi walked down the streets of that shell, not really sure where she was going. She just wanted to look at the place. But it was unnerving. Everything was left out in the open, untouched. There were the vendors’ crops, kids’ toys, and games already begun, but there was no one there.

  This must be just the shell of her hometown.

  Soon, however, Aoi heard something, breaking the eerie silence. It may not have been voices, but it was a sound. Flowing water. A river.

  She followed the sound to its source. A red and tan bridge stretched over the water. Aoi made her way along the bridge, only pausing to look over the side. There should have been fish swimming in the water, but there was nothing. The river was empty.

  Across the bridge, there was a large tree with blooming white flowers, providing shade for a few houses. Had she not been dreaming, Aoi might have taken the time to sit under the tree. But dreams could end at any time. Aoi still wanted to know just what was here. She needed to know if she was seeing this for a reason.

  She made her way past several homes, until she saw one at the edge of town. For the most part it was normal, nothing out of the ordinary. Just one thing caught her eye. The door was open. It was the only door Aoi had seen that was.

  Is this where I’m supposed to go? she wondered.

  There was no one inside. The house was empty, but it didn’t feel like it. The table was set. Some drawers were open. Everything looked like it had been in use just moments before, as if the family had suddenly been swept away. It felt wrong somehow.

  She didn’t need this ghost-town feeling in a dream. She wanted to wake up rested, not scared. “Then I guess I’d better clean up.” That way it could look like the family took a long, long vacation, not vanished forever. That was a little better, at least.

  So Aoi put the dishes and cups away. She closed drawers that had been left open. She tidied the place up until it looked p
erfect.

  Once again, without the sounds of her cleaning, the room was quiet. Another reminder that she was the only one here.

  And then she heard a voice. A chill ran down her spine and she stopped in her tracks. It belonged to an older man. But she’d not seen anyone like that here. She couldn’t tell where the voice was coming from. It echoed around her, just like Mulan’s voice in the gem.

  “Protect those you love, child. Care for them while they’re still here. One day, they may just leave.”

  The voice grew quieter at the end, then vanished altogether.

  What had he been talking about? Was she going to lose her friends? Or was that supposed to mean something else? She had to know. “Wait! Don’t go!”

  The voice didn’t answer, but a strange wind began to blow from inside the building. It circled her like a cyclone as the world grew brighter and blurry.

  There was no time to find out where the voice came from, who it was, or what it meant. The dream was ending. Aoi was pushed back into the real world.

  Chapter 3

  For the next few days, Mulan tried to convince Aoi to train for a battle Aoi had lied about wanting to fight. Instead, Aoi tried to direct the hero’s attention to other things—learning how to use a computer, explaining how the TV worked, helping her father move in. They even went back to the forest a few times for afternoon walks. That was where they had their best conversations. Even though Mulan stressed Aoi out with her constant pressuring, Aoi was beginning to grow fond of her spirit companion.

  March had come to an end, and April was here. Now it was the fourth, and school was tomorrow.

  Aoi lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. School. The thought alone made a chill run down her spine and her palms sweat. Everyone else had friends already. Who was Aoi supposed to eat with or sit with? Who would she walk to and from school with? Would anyone even want to be her friend?

  For all she knew, they could start judging her. Just take one look at her blonde hair and blue eyes, and decide she was a loser foreigner. Or, worse, a yankii.

 

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