Calamity Rising (Deathwalker Book 1)

by Z. V. Hunter

  The center of the main Shrine is a place of great spiritual activity and closed to the public. It's where the Priest or Priestess in this case, does most of her work undisturbed.

  There were also a few enshrined Calamities here, and even behind the heavy rope, blessed and tied with powerful seals, and wards that kept them locked away, I felt their lingering presence. The storehouses had shelves of trapped Calamities and ghosts as well—weaker ones that only needed Spirit Vessels or Seals to hold them.

  "I take it back. You can leave now."

  I snorted and moved behind the wooden fence that kept the public from entering the private parts of the Shrine. Another Torii Gate stood there, along with a few more on the property. Six, in total, and they formed a barrier to keep evil things out…or in, whichever side you were looking at it from. While they did open a path into the Spirit World, another set of Torii Gates normal humans couldn't see kept it closed. Most major Shrines were the same by way of basic construction.

  It's why Shrines of this size were so strong and safe.

  The purification pool was just like it sounded—a hot spring that bubbled up from the ground and purified those tainted with darkness. Rocks surrounded it, and the water gave off a faint Sulphur scent that was never pleasant. However, much like the bells, if you were untrained, you couldn’t see it.

  After any run in with a ghost or Calamity my mother always insisted I enter it. Not my favorite thing in the world.

  "Aren't you going to turn around?" I peeled off my trench. The rain still fell, but it wasn't as cold here, and the drops turned to mist before they hit the ground. They covered the whole pool in a shining halo.

  Aki snorted. "As if I haven't seen what's under your clothes before. Strip and get in. I can't trust you to do it if I'm not here to watch."

  Well, she was right about that.

  "I know. Jump over the fence and spend the night in an Internet cafe. I'm sure that Calamity won't come back for you. The power of that light zapped its malevolence, for the time being."

  I shook my head. "You know, someone is worried you might enshrine them on these grounds, Aki," I said and grinned over my shoulder at my old friend. My heart clenched. I didn't know where we stood now.

  "Afraid? Ha! She's about as scary as a newborn kitten."

  "I wouldn't want that foul thing here. I'd send it back to whence it came," she said. "Now strip."

  "If you're going to be bossy about it."

  I took off my tunic and leggings, ignored the sudden gasp and squeak that Aki made. She saw my battle wounds and would have something to say about them later.

  Then I plunged into the pool and screamed.

  6

  A SPIRITUAL RESIDUE clings to those who spend too much time around Calamities and ghosts. That's what the purification pool clears off, and it hurts like hell.

  Imagine your skin stripped from the muscle, then someone poured salt over the bloody mass of tendons and fat. Then multiply that by ten.

  Yeah. That's how it feels to get purified if you're a Dark Mage and a Necromancer who hadn't done it in a good five years or more.

  I lost count.

  That's why I screamed.

  If Lux had anything to say about my ordeal, he kept his mouth shut.

  The stone seal protected him from the pain. If not, I don't think anything of him would've survived considering how corrupted he seemed.

  The pain only lasted for a fraction of a second, but it felt longer. It's like someone peeling blights off your soul with a rusty dull knife. But that's not the worst part. It's not the reason I fought every time my mother insisted I dunk into the pool—her way of making sure I didn't end up warped like most of those who use Makai or Yomi power—the very worst bit are the memories that came with it.

  They weren't my memories.

  They were the memories of the ghosts and Calamities who stained me. And they flashed by like watching a movie on fast forward, but my brain still processed it. Still felt every moment of pain. Every loss that created them.

  And the last Calamities I'd fought were always the strongest.

  For me, that was the Longneck Woman and the malevolence that chased me here.

  A pang of panic and dread pierced the Longneck Woman's heart when her daughter didn't come home from school that day, like a sword driven inside it. She called the police. The school. Asked her daughter's friends. No one had seen her. The police searched the area, even went so far as to dredge the river, and search the nearby rice fields, yet they found nothing.

  In the back of my mind, I remembered hearing about that on the news. A missing girl. A plea for help. A picture flashed across the screen.

  In the end, the woman heard a rumor about an abandoned train tunnel. The kids in her daughter's school played at a park near it. She thought she would find her daughter there.

  If she looked, I didn't know.

  The next memory was of a noose.

  Then everything went black.

  The second part didn't make nearly as much sense—flashes of a dark pit that seemed to soak in the light. A snatch of yellowed fangs bright with fresh blood. A man in a black suit draped in shadows, his face a blur, but wearing a smile on his lips.

  A scream, pained and high-pitched, like a child.

  Then a youth who looked around fifteen, stood in the center of that forest, the mossy tangled one I almost slipped into on my way to the Shrine. By his side stood a large red fox and on his back hung a huge ancient Tachi sword, taller than he was. A crow perched on the sword and a black butterfly fluttered next to him.

  He started to turn and—

  "He's ours!" the malevolence hissed.

  "Yuki!"

  I started.

  Blinked.

  The pool bubbled around me, and the pain ebbed. My muscles felt akin to cooked noodles, but the water rinsed off the worst of the mud and grime I'd collected from my unexpected jaunt in the park.

  Aki held out a towel. "It's done. Get out. You can bathe then tell me exactly what happened."

  A knot twisted in my gut. "That's fair. Is there food involved? Beer?"

  "Don't push it."

  月

  Aki didn't come into the bathroom with me, but I saw her silhouetted against the foggy glass door.

  "I have a towel," I said as I washed the grime from my hair in the shower space. The tub, deep and full of fresh water, looked tempting, but I didn't have time for a soak.

  "I know. I—You look like you joined the yakuza."

  "Tell her you did. Watch her squirm."

  "Shut up," I muttered and let the clean water rinse the soap from my hair and body. I touched my shoulder where another mark formed—the newest one. It looked like a black ink tattoo on my flesh, the shape an intricate woven design. It grew whenever I pulled power from the Spirit World.

  "It's not that bad. The scars are worse," I said and touched a fresh one, still healing, from a job I'd had a month ago. A fight with a drunk afflicted with a Amanojaku—a small Calamity that feeds on the dark desires of humans—in Shinjuku. I'd sealed it and thrown it into the river, where it couldn't cause harm. However, that was after the knife slashed my thigh and cut through a pair of my favorite leggings—ones with evil looking pandas on them.

  "I'm sure they are, but—how often do you go there?"

  I sucked in the humid air and frowned. "I try to stay away. Believe me."

  "And Yomi-no-kuni?"

  The Underworld. The place where the dead end up—or they should. It seemed like more of them wandered the streets nowadays. "I've never been back there. Not since the first time."

  Aki let out a breath. "Good. I—I had a dream about you recently. I tried to find you, and came to a great black tunnel that hummed with evil. I'm not sure if you were there or not. I didn't go inside."

  I swallowed, my throat dry. "You didn't find me?"

  "No, but I've had the same dream every night for a month. I'm going to the kitchen. Don't slip out without telling me."


  She knew me too well.

  After the night I'd had, I needed a drink.

  Of course, Aki didn't even offer me any ceremonial sake, let alone beer or another kind of booze. She sat at the kitchen table wrapped in a pale pink Hello Kitty robe, the table set with a black tea infused with jasmine to ward off evil, and a few sandwiches that obviously came from the Lawson's across the street. She'd placed a fresh package of sweet Dango there too. It's a chewy rice flour dumpling dipped in sweetened soy sauce and speared on a stick. One of my favorites when I was a kid.

  From the look on her face, the pinched worry around her sharp eyes, I knew I had to tell my story before I ate.

  Now that we were in better light, I took in her appearance. She looked much the same as when I'd seen her on New Year's, only not as fresh. Dark smudges lined her eyes now. We'd both gone to Sensoji Temple to watch the first sunrise of that year, a tradition here, and I'd run into her by chance. In truth, I would've stayed home if I knew she was going to be there.

  She was mixed, like me. Her father was a normal Japanese businessman. Not a bone of magic in his body, though his grandmother had been some kind of Witch in Kyushu. Aki's mother disappeared when she was very young. The rumor was she'd run off because she couldn't handle the stress of being a housewife. I met her once, but the only thing I remembered about her was the way her hair shone like the rising sun, golden red.

  I never knew the truth of what had happened. I'd never asked since Aki was bound to punch anyone who mentioned it. That was a long time ago now. A good fifteen years.

  Shit. Suddenly, I felt old.

  Worn out.

  I shouldn't, not really. I was barely twenty-six.

  Most of her coloring was Japanese, with thick hair that hung as straight as a ruler. But her eyes were wider and a pale green, like those of a cat. Her hair looked dark brown in normal lighting, but if you caught it at the right angle, you could see the deep auburn that ran through it—the color of the sky at dawn.

  That's what her name meant. It suited her, and I wondered if her parents knew how well it would when she was born.

  My name didn't suit me at all.

  Yukine means 'the sound of falling snow.' My mother chose it because I was born in December, and most people call me Yuki anyway, which means 'snow.' But I'm not anywhere near as pure, though I guess I can be quiet when I need to.

  Aki used to wear her hair long, like mine, but now she wore it cut into a bob that came short of her pleasantly rounded chin. A pale smear of freckles covered her nose and cheeks and softened the edge of her beauty. Her face was softer than mine, which I always thought was too angular. My cheekbones were too wide and my nose just a bit too pointy. I took after my mother in that way.

  With a sigh, I told her what happened.

  Well, I left out the part about me threatening an old lady. I knew she wouldn't like that. And I didn't mention my ride on the Calamity train, since that's something else she wouldn't approve of. She might be amazing, but she couldn't see them. Didn't live in a place between the two worlds like I did.

  Maybe that's how things fell apart between us. She tried to pull me in a different direction, and I ran: in part to protect her from the power I have—power that can kill those with Ame—and in part because it was easier. Always had been since Mimi died.

  It didn't feel easier now.

  Aki listened with her gaze fixed on the table. When I finished, she picked up a cup of tea and sipped it thoughtfully. "That's the third case of a Longneck Woman I've heard about in the last month."

  I blinked. "Do you know another Exorcist?"

  It's not like I was the only one in Neo-Tokyo, but it's a thankless job. And not easy since most people can't see what they're fighting unless specially equipped. Besides my abilities and a Conjuror's Circle, there aren't that many other ways to see Calamities or ghosts unless they reveal themselves.

  Aki gave me a sly smile. "The Monks at San'en-zan Zōjō-ji have a Calamity mirror, and they went to deal with a haunting at a home in Ueno last week. The ghost was a Longneck Woman. The other case was at the beginning of the month. A man came here with a death curse, and when he told me what happened, I called Kuro Abe to check it out. He said it was a Longneck Woman, and brought me the sealed artifact to keep safe. We—the man didn't make it."

  I shoved a whole finger sandwich into my mouth and chewed.

  "She called Kuro Abe instead of you. Ouch. That's gotta hurt."

  Aki pushed a cup of tea toward me. A frown pinched her brow. "I know what you're going to say, but I didn't call you because I didn't think you'd want me to. You didn't seem happy to run into me on New Year's, and I haven't seen you since. Why would a phone call be any better?"

  The tea helped me not choke to death in the kitchen of my childhood home—now her home. "Anything would be better than calling him."

  Kuro Abe. Son and one of the heirs to the most powerful clan in all Neo-Tokyo, possibly Japan. The rumors were his family descended from Kami, much like the Emperor, and we all know how that turned out.

  In truth, they were powerful Conjurers who, with enough training, could capture Calamities and bind them to their will. But they can't see Spirits like I can. So how did Kuro, of all people, seal one? Must have had his Shade do it for him.

  Cheater.

  As for the Calamity mirror—not to be confused with a mirror Calamity—that's a Calamity that is fused to a mirror and causes all sorts of problems—those with spiritual powers can use a Calamity mirror to see monsters from the Spirit World, but it's vague and the mirrors are rare. Usually only large Temples or Shrines possess them.

  My mother lost hers long ago.

  And it's not like I'm jealous—my power is more a curse than a blessing, especially since the only way to get it is to die.

  My mother knew the Abe family before I was born. She did work for them from time to time. Purifying their homes. Dealing with a Calamity they accidentally conjured and couldn't control. That meant I’d had Kuro's presence foisted on me my entire life—the pompous asshole.

  "He's not like he was back then. He grew up," Aki said and bit a rice dumpling off a stick.

  I snatched one for myself and blocked out Lux's giggling. He'd rub this in for days. "Good for him. It's about time."

  Aki's eyes narrowed. "In a lot of ways, you haven't grown up, Yuki. He asked about you."

  I scoffed. The only reason Kuro would ask about me would be to rub in how much better his life was than mine. "What's he doing as an Exorcist? Last I saw his dumb smiling face was plastered all over a SoftPhone ad in every train station in the city."

  "Maybe he was trying to rebel, like you when you ran off to America."

  "I wasn't trying to rebel. I was trying to keep you safe from everything that happened here. From. . ."

  "Killing Mimi."

  I flinched. Glared at the table: the smooth wood I knew so well. A gouge in the corner came from the time I set down an iron short sword too hard. Rika took the blame for that. My vision got watery, and I blinked it away.

  Aki's gaze softened. "And how did it work out?"

  I shook my head and suppressed a shudder. "It's not that their versions of ghosts or gods are worse, but so few people believe in them. The magic is different, yet similar enough that it gave me a headache. All that power right under their feet and no one thought anything of it."

  "Culture shock," Aki said, as if the word tasted like strawberry cream cake.

  "Maybe." That's the most I'd talked about my time in America since I got back several years before. I took a deep breath. "But I'm back now. No one can complain anymore."

  "Why did you come back?" Aki pinned me with a look again. It wasn't accusatory, but it felt like it.

  "Are you going to tell her the truth?"

  "I didn't have a green card. Once I finished college, I had no reason to stay," I said and ignored Lux. That was mostly the truth.

  I didn't bother to mention the dreams I'd had—the ones my mother always said
were portents. These involved a sweeping darkness that emerged from the center of Neo-Tokyo and spread across the whole city, then the country, and finally the world. Something drew me back here, but I couldn't say what it was, since the dreams stopped once I arrived. I hadn't thought of them in years.

  "Well, we missed you, even if you don't believe it. I missed you."

  My cheeks flushed, and I poured myself another cup of tea. Of course I missed her, but she probably knew that. "So why the uptick in suicides leading to Longneck Women? The one I dealt with had a missing daughter."

  Aki shrugged. "I didn't dig into it. I'm too busy trying to train my acolytes and deal with Shrine business. The Shrine Maidens I have aren't skilled enough to handle things for long on their own. They can barely form a protective barrier, let alone seal a Calamity."

  "Why don't you ask Rika?" I said and grinned, chewing on my last rice dumpling.

  If Kuro was my Kryptonite, Rika was Aki's.

  Aki glared. "You're just trying to get back at me for mentioning Kuro, aren't you? You know Rika would never do it. Last I heard, she's working with the yakuza now. Plus, she barely has the discipline to hold a normal job, let alone help run a Shrine like Meiji."

  That might've been true, but Rika was as powerful as Aki. Though she'd left before she became a true initiate. Like me.

  "You could always come back. I could use your help around here," she said quietly and finished her tea.

  "I told you to run when you had the chance."

  "I can't, and you know it. Not after what happened last time. I—I don't have the right kind of power to protect anyone here."

  Aki shook her head. "No, you chose not to do it. You could, you just don't want the responsibility weighing you down. There's a spare futon in the guest room. I expect you won't be staying for breakfast. You never do."

  I flinched. That last one stung.

  Then Aki rose and marched out of the room. Her footsteps pounded across the floorboards, up the stairs, and into the room that used to belong to my mother.