A Third of the Moon and the Stars Struck

by Jade Brieanne

  “No, you are not.”

  “Yes, the hell I am! Do you know what I’ve been through? Do you know how sick and tired I am of this hell hole?” She glared at Yansá before storming over to the goat. “You let me out of here, you damn can opener, and I mean now!”

  Oti bleated and Yansá nodded. “She said to get comfortable. You cannot leave until you are ready to leave. I’ll bring you some clothes and something to sleep on. You’ll also want to write your name down somewhere in sight.”

  “I’m not going to forget my own damn name!”

  “Are you sure?”

  Jin opened her mouth to argue but she’d tried this before, trying to demand her way out of captivity. It didn’t work with Onyu and she doubt it was going to work with a goat.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY THREE

  Silent Temple

  Kowloon, Discord Realm

  The next morning, Yansá reminded Jin to write her name down somewhere. She rolled her eyes and went back to sleep. She wasn’t going to forget her name.

  By the third day, as she crept past the alfalfa patch desperate for something other than a leaf sandwich, she realized she couldn’t remember the name of the place she was. Yansá told her to write her name down where she could always see it. Jin told her she wasn’t going to forget her name.

  By the fifth, she’d explored most of the land that the hut was on. No one else lived there and the little girl who’d guided her to the hut was

  nowhere to be found.

  On the seventh, AJ went silent.

  By the eighth, she’d forgotten that she had ever lived anywhere else other than The Silent Temple.

  By the tenth, Oti bleated at her about a woman named Jin. She turned to the goat and scratched her behind the ear before asking…

  “Who is Jin?”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY FOUR

  Team Fox APARTMENTManhattan, New York

  The apartment was quiet. Usually, Tahir could tolerate it despite her need for noise and movement. She understood that she was rambunctious, that sometimes she could be too loud, that sometimes she was just as noisy as the explosions she liked to cause. So, sometimes, she tried to enjoy the silence. Today, she couldn’t stand it.

  Tahir stared at the blond wig sitting on her knee and twirled her black hair around a finger, annoyed. She wanted to talk. She wanted to tell jokes. She wanted to fight Rooke for a bigger section of the couch and when he lost, laugh as he pouted, drawing his long legs up and folding them up

  under him like a cat. She wanted Rooke’s company.

  Rooke didn’t exist. Rooke wasn’t real. Rooke never was real.

  So it was quiet because she had been left alone with a stranger. The sound of the blender whirred in the kitchen and the crunchy sounds of ice being chopped filled the air. Well, it was quiet.

  “You want a smoothie? I’m making a vanilla bean one. We have to hurry and use the coconut milk before it goes bad.”

  Tahir didn’t answer him. She chose to ignore him and stared out of the window instead.

  “Tahir,” he sang. “Did you hear me? Smoooothie.”

  Silence.

  Rooke snorted. “Suit yourself,” he murmured. “More for me.”

  “Don’t talk to me, Adalberto,” she said, stressing his name. Adalberto meant a noble light. Considering Rooke lived in the shadows, it was highly ironic.

  Rooke scoffed. “I knew it was bothering you but I thought you would have gotten over it by now. Honestly! How many chips do you have on your shoulder, Tahir?”

  “Fuck you, Adalberto,” she spat.

  He slammed the top of the blender down on the table. “My name is Rooke,” he snapped. “I am Rooke, I will always be Rooke.”

  “And who the hell is “Rooke” anyways? What do I know about you? What don’t I know?”

  “Have I somehow changed, Tee-Tee? Did I grow another face–don’t answer that.”

  “We are a team, Rooke,” she seethed, finally dragging her gaze from the window to look at him. He looked the same, even his upturned lips were familiar. “A team. You were brought in to be a part of us. We are supposed to be able to trust you with our lives!”

  “Have I betrayed that trust? Have I let you down? Would I not die for either one of you?”

  Tahir knew the answer to that but couldn’t say it. She swallowed it instead.

  “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that it came to this. I would have gone the next ten million centuries without having this revealed but my mother depended on me, Ahn depended on me and Caeli depended on me. So I fell in line. I’m a soldier and that’s what soldiers do. They follow commands. Don’t act like you haven’t done some questionable shit when commanded to do so.”

  “It’s …” she exhaled noisily before turning away from him.

  Tahir knew Rooke was telling the truth. She knew that he only did what his superiors told him to do but that didn’t remove her anger, it didn’t take the sting out of being lied to, and it didn’t remove the hurt of letting someone in and not knowing what words were true and what words weren’t. If Rooke’s job was to spy, to lie, and to gather information, what words of hers had he used without her permission?

  George strolled into the room, eyeing the both of them as if their squabbling was the highest level of irritation he’d ever experienced.

  “We are leaving,” he said in a deep commanding voice that he still thought held weight around them. It never had to begin with.

  “And where are we leaving to?” Tahir mocked, imitating his deep voice.

  George paused. “I’m not quite sure yet.”

  “Then why are we leaving?” she said standing and stretching. “We haven’t received any commands from Key yet.”

  “Precisely. You haven’t received anything from him, no communication whatsoever. Something may be wrong.”

  Tahir scoffed and walked by him, intent on ignoring him and his directives for as long as possible. “You seem concerned,” she drawled.

  George rounded on her and Tahir had seen him mad but she’d never seen him annoyed, like flat out fed up. “You’re just pressed to make every person in this house your enemy, aren’t you?” While she sputtered in response, he turned to Rooke, cutting off her respond. “Is there a way for you to track them?”

  Rooke’s brows rose as if he’d just remembered. “Uh, yeah, actually. Let me go grab my–”

  Tahir’s phone started to ring. She fished it out of the back pockets of the pair of riding leathers she’d stuffed herself into this morning. She glanced at the screen before holding it up for everyone else. “Speak of the angel.” She pressed the comm-button and Key’s face appeared on the three screens on the wall. “Key! Perfect timing! Father Time and the Young Benedict Arnold,” which earned her a balled up paper towel to the back of her head, “were about to wet their pants looking for you.”

  “No time for small talk, Tahir. I’m sending you an address. I need you all there–” there was a pause and Tahir could hear Key fumbling on the phone and someone talking in the background. “–in eight hours.”

  George looked down at his watch. “That’s ten in the morning.”

  “Correct. That is when the museum opens back up. We’re camping out here tonight to figure the last piece of this puzzle.”

  “Or the first damn piece!” Jon yelled off-screen. “We’re up to our necks in bullshit! Oh, and make sure Aiden is drunk! Like New Year’s Eve drunk or fraternity initiate drunk! And bring me seven bottles, no…nine bottles of soju! No, no…all of the soju in the house!”

  “What’s going on?”

  Key sighed. “The question is what isn’t going on. Bright side? We might have figured out how to get Jin back.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTY FIVE

  Storico Restaurant

  New-York Historical Society

  New York, New York

  “You know what would go really good with these eggs? Liquor.”

  Key exhaled, the sound hollow from the comfort of his folded arms.

 
“They have wine,” Dr. Timoko muttered before forking a mouthful of eggs between her teeth.

  “I need a little more than a sixteen percent alcohol level sip out of a fancy glass that’s going to cost me thirty dollars, thanks.”

  Key raised his head, wishing he could tape Jon’s mouth shut. They hadn’t had much sleep other than the naps they would take between Dr. Timoko’s random shouts as she ran into a decoding issue. You’d think a woman who’d purposely written a code to mutilate itself every thirty

  minutes would have a higher threshold for frustration.

  Although she had decoded a file that had masterfully shocked the shit out of them with its revelation, she spent another few hours trying to get her hands on another file.

  It ended up being a picture of a damn rock. Or a stone. A cornerstone to be precise.

  “Explain the rock again, please,” Key asked, his voice light with affable pleading. “In smaller sentences. Jon seems to have regressed to a whiny baby and I’m sure his mental state matches that.”

  Jon made a face at him.

  Dr. Timoko placed her fork down and reached into her bag, producing a tablet. Plucking the stylus from the lapel of her jacket, she pulled up a website. “Transmutation: it’s changing one element into another. It is actually used in science–biological, dimensional, nuclear. We are going to use this in a more mystical and spiritual capacity. Alchemy.”

  “Alchemy exists? Like truly exist?” Key asked, the doubt heavy in his voice.

  “Yes. It was as a philosophy in its beginnings. Then the desire morphed and soon they were trying to do things outside of their ability.”

  “They?” Jon said.

  “Humans. Science became a secondary notion and greed became their main. First, it was turning metals into gold, and then extending human life. This,” and she pulled up the picture of the stone again, “is the philosopher’s stone. I know you’ve heard of it, everyone has.” She paused to glance at Jon, who had his brow raised. “Maybe not,” she mumbled. "The philosopher stone is a substance that they used in alchemy in the attempt to transmute one substance into another.

  “There are a few different versions; even one they said granted “immortality” if there was ever such a thing. Yet, the one you’re looking for is the one referenced in Revelation 2:17.”

  “Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches. To the one who is victorious, I will give some of the hidden manna. I will also give that person a white stone with a new name written on it,” Key recited flawlessly.

  Dr. Timoko smiled. “Nothing less than I would expect from a Mutare. Manna is a type of spiritual food or in this case a gift. It is also hidden. This stone is that manna. If found and given in the same spirit as this scripture, it will give a spirit a new “name” or in this case, body, and with that new body, it will allow the spirit to come back to this realm to claim it. You said she has a lover? Is it serious?”

  “Very,” Jon affirmed. “He’s on his way.”

  “It’ll be his job to receive the stone.”

  “That’s it? Find this stone, have Aiden get cozy with it and we get her back?”

  “Yes. You have to find it first.”

  “And you have no idea where it’s at, I’m guessing,” Jon presumed.

  “Good guess, human. I never tried looking for it. It’s unnatural to me to call forth souls from the dead but if this aids the reason my daughter is back alive, I am willing to help in any way that I can.” She began tapping on her tablet again. “You’ll need this. It’s the only map to the stone’s location.”

  Key accepted the tablet when she slid it into his hands. “This is another scripture.”

  “Don’t you know how many answers are hidden in scriptures, angel? I can give you the first clue but I don’t think I know more beyond that.”

  Key groaned. As he prepared to slam his head back down on the table, he caught sight of Tahir, Rooke, Aiden, and George walking into Storico. Key waived them closer and introduced them as they approached. “These are my subordinates, Tahir and Rooke and–”

  “Koke?” George said, his voice filled with awe. The archdemon’s shoulders stiffened at hearing her name. When she turned to look at him, her politely bored look had morphed into something altogether…not pleasant. George must not have noticed because his smile was...warmer than usual, just shy of lukewarm, he would guess. “Timokokeinuhn-Ninuliamohn Akahata Timoko. It is you. Wow.”

  “That was a mouthful,” Rooke muttered as he reached for Jon’s turkey sandwich. Jon yanked it away and Rooke whimpered. He still managed to snatch a roll off a plate in the center of the table, breaking it in half and practically forcing it in Tahir’s mouth. She accepted it, grumbling and sneering. Aiden pulled up a chair and placed it close to Jon. He had been rather quiet since they’d left the Causatum Chamber and his silence worried Key.

  “When they said it was you, I couldn’t believe it.” George’s smile reached his eyes and it was the first time Key had seen it. It was kind of creepy. “No one has heard from you in eons!”

  “I did that on purpose,” she bit out. “Especially when I realized those who may have had something to do with my daughter’s death decided to live on the same realm as I. Apparently in the same city. It’s amazing how New York attracts our kind.”

  Key looked in between them, his brows dipping. “He…he knew? About the whole…parentage thing?”

  “Of course he did,” she snapped, her cool brown eyes never leaving George. “He was the leader of the Fallen, he knew everything! I often wondered why he didn’t use that information against her. Figured no one would believe you if Khavah of all people kept it a secret, huh?”

  “Khavah keeps secrets?” Rooke asked, blinking his eyes innocently. Key couldn’t tell if he was actually surprised or lying through his teeth.

  “Sullying her name wasn’t something I was after,” George stated with a calmness that betrayed the topic at hand, although a noticeable tick appeared under one of his eyes. “I was after her head. You can’t blame me for that. It was war. Aria killed my son.”

  “He deserved it,” Dr. Timoko spat, her tone ice cold.

  “The words of a demon,” George jibed. “My feelings are hurt. Honestly, Koke, my soul weeps.”

  Dr. Timoko snorted. “If I could get to him, I would have Yofiel cut your tongue from your disgusting mouth.”

  “As soon as you can tear him from Okoro Selene’s side, sure. Last I heard, they were very happy and he rarely mentions your name.”

  “And your mate is d–”

  “O-kay!” Key interrupted, standing up between the two. “I’m sure the centuries worth of animosity you two have for one another can wait. You’ve waited this long, right? Rip each other to shreds once we get Jin back.”

  “Figure it out yourself.” Dr. Timoko began to gather her things and hurling them into her bag. “I’m not working with him in any shape, form or fashion. He’s a snake. A vulture!”

  Tahir laughed. “What was it earlier you were telling me about making enemies out of everyone?”

  George groaned. “Koke,” he said with the familiarity of a lover trying to pacify an irate one.

  She hissed at him something vile and began storming for the door. George followed, calling her name all the while.

  “That was strange,” Jon said around his sandwich, staring at them as one would stare at a reality television show. “Didn’t that sound more like a lover’s spat than an argument over dead kids?” His chewing slowed. “Wait. If she’s really Aria’s mom, could he be her dad?” Jon’s face scrunched up in disgust. “Ew.”

  “Wait, what?” Tahir said. Key noticed Rooke didn’t react. “Who’s whose mother?”

  Key plopped down in his seat and this time he did slam his head down on the table. The only thing that kept him from doing it again was Aiden patting him on the back.

  Key looked at him out of the corner of his eye and Aiden shrugged. “You seem to be the one person more frustrated th
an I am. I’m offering you my empathy.”

  Key nodded and then slammed his head back down.

  “So,” Key announced thirty minutes later. “Here is the plan.”

  Dr. Timoko was back and it looked like she and George had drawn a temporary truce on the strength of helping both Aria and Lucan. Or that’s what they said. The looks they kept stealing of the other were full of tension and long lost affection and Key began to give a little weight to what Jon had said.

  When she’d returned and calmed down, she explained just how the transmutation would work.

  “This all hinges on equivalent exchange. A soul for a soul. Can’t do a body for a body. Jin doesn’t have one, anymore. Your words.”

  “Will she look different? I mean…will she look like herself or the person who is giving her the body?” Aiden asked, hunched over. It was strange. For such a tall man, he seemed small, shrinking into himself, his worry and his grief like weights around his neck. He shook his head after asking the question. “It doesn’t matter. I wouldn’t care. Just get her back.”

  “Noble, Aiden, but you don’t have to worry. Astral projection cast the image she has of herself and then locks it in place. That is secondary. First, you’ll need a body…attached to a living person because this can’t be performed on the dead unless you want Jin’s soul trapped in a corpse. This person will have to be fine with exchanging their soul with Jin’s otherwise it won’t work. You can’t force a transmutation. You do this correctly and the universe will have both Jin Amaris and Aria Jinni.”

  Aria Jinni was still not a concern of Key’s. Not yet.

  “Although I’m sure you know it by heart, I’ve sent a copy of the scripture to your phone. I will be available if you need any help,” Dr. Timoko finished.