Wearing the Cape 5: Ronin Games

by Marion G. Harmon

  Barlow’s Guide to Superhumans.

  * * *

  I didn’t even hear it in my head—I just knew it had somehow spoken and what it had said.

  You do not need to fear. The golden koi floating by the oyabun’s head didn’t speak the same words either, but it did. There was no influence in the words, no oppressive weight like the yakuza boss’s power, only friendly reassurance, but its little fins idly churned the air and when the tip of its tailfin brushed his cheek he flinched as if burned.

  And Jacky stood wound tight and ready again, staring at her own fish. Everyone had one, even my dead ki-pusher.

  I let the oyabun go.

  He tugged his collar open, loosened his tie. “She has broken your law, Kami-sama! She has killed here!”

  And should I / punish her for not taking off her shoes when / she did not know she / had entered my / house? Who brought / her here?

  It was a rhetorical question, but as the fish passed their unspoken sentence among them like a ball tossed back and forth, the onmiyoji standing beside Ozma shook so hard I wondered if he was going to collapse. He stared at his own fish like a mouse mesmerized by a snake.

  “Shell?” I whispered.

  “I think we know what’s in Golden Gai now.”

  “Really? Do you think?” I was going to skin me a cat.

  But not everyone / is here / who is here.

  Shell dropped into my arms, yowling and spitting. Cutter’s weight settled into the harness on my back.

  And things / should be neat.

  The last shadow of the walls blew away and we stood in the middle of a valley between low purple hills, under a starry sky. The ground we were standing on was a frozen pond. More schools of golden koi swam through the air, and silver koi swam beneath the surface of the ice that wasn’t ice—it wasn’t cold or slick, more like glass pretending to be ice because that’s what solid water was.

  The silver koi weren’t the only things beneath the ice; each burning silver koi swam beside a sunken sleeper. Not corpses—they were alive; I could see them breathing as they slept in their weedy beds.

  Bright side, making things neat meant my right arm wasn’t bloody up to the elbow anymore and dead ki-guy was gone.

  Nor is / deception necessary.

  And Kitsune changed from a lightly bearded lady to a gloriously white seven-tailed fox, a glowing ball of white fox-fire floating beside him to match the koi at his other shoulder. Ozma and Jacky were themselves again and a quick tug and peek at my own hair confirmed I was too.

  At least Shell was still a cat; we would have looked pretty silly otherwise.

  Such interesting / guests. Won’t / you introduce yourselves?

  I am talking to a fish. If I’d fallen asleep and was dreaming, would I even know? Of course I would, because then I’d be talking to a tree. Only the thought that laughing at something that scared a sorcerer capable of restraining Ozma might be a Bad Idea kept the giggles in, but the simple request gave me something to focus on. I ignored my incredulous and unhelpful inside-voice, bowing as correctly as I could while holding Shell. “I’m Astra. My companions are Artemis and Ozma. I apologize for our intrusion, please believe that it was not intentional.”

  It was / intended. Another / brought you and / hid you from / me. He / abuses my offer of / passage.

  The onmiyoji pissed himself. I could smell it, the sudden sour reek. I could smell other things too, with my super-duper nose. The pond was the source of the smell of still water from earlier. Kitsune had a smell, an aromatic musky scent, stronger now but one I realized I’d smelled before when he’d been Yoshi and Allison. In the middle of the weirdness it made me smile to realize I’d be able to smell him from now on, no matter his form. Or her form.

  Focus, Hope. The pretty fish had just made a criminal sorcerer wet himself with terror. “Do my friends and I have safe passage?”

  My fish abandoned its float to swim in excited circles.

  Perhaps. / So many! You / can win the use of / my doors. A / game. A game / to see what I shall do / with you and with / them!

  I blinked, holding Shell tighter. I had not seen that coming, and my eyes darted to Jacky and Ozma. Jacky looked like she wanted to start shooting fish, but her guns pointed nowhere near them. Ozma…

  Ozma slowly reached up to lightly tickle her fish’s belly. “A game sounds lovely.” Her face was a study in pleasant interest. “But we should be allowed to hear the rules before we agree to it, don’t you think?”

  Her fish wiggled happily.

  Of course! / Yes, a / contest to replace such / vulgar fighting. / A trade of things, the / best of each trade winning / the point. The winning / side goes free, the other / to stay with me / and be taught proper / manners.

  I barely kept from looking down at the sleepers below us. Not all of them slept soundly. Some of them wore ancient clothing, robes and pantaloons and yukatas, and a couple of them wore samurai armor. How long had they stayed?

  Ozma smiled at her fish. “Yes, that is very exciting. And who trades? What would the trades be?”

  I was perfectly happy to let her take over negotiations—if you could call it that. It sounded more like diplomatic flattery while waiting to hear a victor’s terms. Certainly our silent and pasty-faced mob boss didn’t seem inclined to jump in.

  A trade / of blows! A trade / of power! A trade / of oaths! Yes! I shall / choose which for / each of you. You / shall choose your own / opponents from those / who may match / you! They shall go / first! I will judge! / It will be / splendid fun!

  “I see.” Ozma’s smile remained bright while her gaze touched on me and Jacky in turn. “And the winner gains the privilege of using your doors while the loser remains here to enjoy your company?”

  Yes! Some to / go, some / to stay! The terms / and stakes are / agreeable?

  What was the alternative? Fight? With no idea what the fish could do, all I knew was that they were literally scaring the piss out of people who thought they could handle us. With no other cues to go on, I took my lead from Kitsune. He had stayed as silently attentive as his oyabun, but he’d warned me twice already; whatever his game was, it wasn’t the same as his boss’s.

  I nodded. So did Jacky. Shell kept quiet; I hadn’t named her and if the fish were happy to treat her as my pet rather than a teammate to involve in the contest, I was okay with that.

  “Very well,” Ozma approved. “We agree, but we must be clear on the conditions of each contest before choosing our opponents.”

  Wonderful! / Wonderful! / Wonderful! Every one of our fishes spun about in tail-churning ecstasy. All her hair standing up, Shell hissed at ours. She wasn’t talking and I wasn’t asking, but whatever this breakthrough we faced was I had to assume she rated it an Omega-Class power. Limited omnipotence? At least inside its own extrareality pocket? The oyabun had called it Kami-sama, god; on a scale of one to ten its power might rank at Why Are You Even Asking?

  Ozma’s fish swam circles around her head. First! A trade / of power! A / gift! Since only / two can trade / power here your / choice is made / already! It seemed quite delighted in its cleverness.

  Maybe it thought it had tricked her, but Ozma gave it a smile and an acknowledging bow. On the other hand, the onmiyoji looked less like he was going to faint. While Ozma had been negotiating, the yakuza group had gathered around their boss. Giving myself a moment to focus on something other than our god-fish, I gave the oyabun a glance and could tell he’d recovered. He waited, stone-faced and eyes moving between the fish and us.

  He probably thought his chances of making it out of here had just gone from zero to fifty-fifty.

  Ozma turned to the onmiyoji and gave him a bow as well. “We have not been introduced?”

  “Ah.” He started, returned the bow. “I am Fourth Wind, Ozma-san.”

  He had no trouble with her name although he gave it the extra Japanese syllable, Ozuma-san. We were Sentinels so everyone at home knew us, but did Japanese sorcerers keep track of powerful
gaijin?

  “Fourth Wind-san.” Ozma bowed again. “It is a pleasure. I believe the first gift is yours?”

  “Yes.” He stood still, brow furrowed. Ozma might have had no choice, but he had a worse problem. If he knew even a little about Ozma he knew that most of her power was in her charms and enchantments. She carried them with her or shared them with others, and as I’d demonstrated they could be used by anybody who figured out how. So she had a lot of things she could gift, from trivial to not-so-trivial, and he didn’t dare underestimate her. On the other hand, if they won he would have to leave at least one of his tools here. Maybe an irreplaceable one.

  Finally he sighed, reaching into his kimono to pull out a small white figurine. An ivory netsuke? It looked like a tightly coiled and sleeping snake.

  Holding it in both hands, he breathed on it. And it woke up. “Fly,” he whispered, and it did. A tiny white Asian dragon, all scales and furry whiskers, it darted out to swim through the air almost like the golden fish it cheerfully played with before returning to sit upon Fourth Wind’s shoulder and wait for instructions.

  “Little Dragon can find anyone he has smelled before,” the sorcerer told Ozma. “He can smell the approach of magic no matter how disguised, and he is how we found you today. He is incomparably stealthy, and you will be able to see what he sees, hear what he hears. He is also a matchless guardian except when he must sleep.”

  He stroked the little dragon’s furry head. “Go to your new mistress.” The beautiful thing rubbed his cheek with its own like a friendly cat, and then launched itself again to fly to Ozma. It circled her twice, hissing at her fish, then settled on her open palm to turn back into a little ivory figurine.

  Ozma smiled at it, stroking the ivory. “Thank you. Little Dragon will be cherished.” Tucking it into her coat, she unfolded her box and opened it. Placing it in the air in front of her to float like a magician’s trick, she widened it and sorted its contents to pull out the little wooden teabox. My stomach sank as she plucked out two of the last three paper packets of Six-Leaf Tea.

  She held out her hand, and he accepted them. “A dose of this tea will break any evil enchantment, of any power, laid upon the drinker. It will restore the fundamentally transformed to their natural state. It will restore the weakened to strength and even the deathly ill to vibrant health. It is the master of all natural and magical poisons, all curses, and all death-dealing enchantments.”

  I sucked in a breath. And she had planned to use the last of her stash just to keep me awake? That was just wrong.

  “Thank you.” The onmiyoji weighed the packets in his hand, looked at his fish. Finally bowing, he smiled ruefully. “Your generosity has defeated me.”

  Excellent! / Excellent! All our fish practically wiggled with delight.

  The insane impulse to do a jumping Go team Ronin! cheer was me trying not to think about my turn. A trade of blows? I didn’t think anyone here could survive a real punch from me. Could I punch—kill—someone who just stood and took it? No. And a trade of oaths? What exactly was that?

  And should it bother me that Kitsune seemed utterly unconcerned about our side getting the first point? Not that I could read a fox very well—would a nervous one whine like a dog?

  Astra! It is / time for your / trade. The trade of / oaths!

  I completely froze, not a thought in my head, but Ozma stepped up beside me.

  She bowed, somehow exuding apologetic embarrassment. “I am sorry, Kami-sama, we will need some clarification and conditions.”

  Explain! / Explain! Our fish spun in agitation.

  “First, I will assume that the winner is the one who accepts the greater oath?”

  Yes! / Yes!

  “Then I propose two conditions, in interest of fairness. First, the demanded oath must be performable. Neither party may be required to do something beyond their physical or moral capability. An oath to bring the requester the Moon, for example. Or to kill someone.”

  Yes! An / unperformable oath is / a forfeit! A performable / oath, unaccepted, is / a forfeit!

  “Thank you. Secondly, both we, and presumably whomever Astra chooses to trade oaths with, are bound by our current obligations. Therefore I suggest that any accepted oaths need not be performed here and now—indeed the fulfillment of one oath may have to wait some time if you keep one of them here. So long as they are accepted with the honest intention of fulfilling them once proper conditions are met, that should be sufficient.”

  All our golden fish froze, fins waving to hold them still beside us. Deep thought? Their stillness lasted only a moment.

  Yes! Oaths will / be performed once / conditions are / correct. Once one / is required to fulfill / their oath, the other must / fulfill theirs! / Fair! / Choose!

  That was an absolute no-brainer. While I didn’t know Kitsune’s game, I was hardly going to choose a complete unknown like the oyabun; he could easily pick something I found doable and moral but repugnant. Or… Not knowing me except by reputation, might he accidentally forfeit?

  But what, exactly, was the strategy here? My opponent, trying for a win, would go for a requested oath so trivial that my countering request couldn’t possibly out-trivialize it. On the other hand, if I chose someone who either wouldn’t mind spending some quality time with Kami-sama or who thought he could escape, they might go right for a huge oath and accept the loss. I could be seeing them again next week or in a few years…

  Crap. Kitsune probably could escape—he was a kami himself, after all. For that matter I wanted him to so he could help me, so the smart move would be one of the others.

  A mob boss, a ninja, a bird-girl, or a…whatever she was exactly.

  Who could mess you up worst? Huh, smart girl? I had no idea. Who do you trust most?

  Crap.

  “I choose Kitsune.”

  The white fox grinned, its seven tails curling around to wrap its feet. “Marry me.”

  I dropped Shell. “What?”

  Chapter Twenty One

  Defensenet Report, Kabukicho Alert: As of two minutes ago, the individual who identifies herself as Hikari was observed making a hard-entry into Golden Gai. Given the high level of power and ability displayed by the Three Remarkable Ronin, a Hazardous Situation Alert has been issued in Golden Gai and all available resources have been mobilized.

  Defensenet Recommendation: Secure the safety of civilians in the Hazardous Situation zone, secure the Three Remarkable Ronin using any level of force not contra-indicated by the first objective.

  DR107-MK [Classified]

  * * *

  Just how many freaking fairy tales am I starring in?

  I didn’t even think about Shell until she sat in a disgusted heap on my foot and started cleaning herself. She looked up. “Hey, I’m a cat.”

  I puffed a startled laugh, remembered to breathe.

  Ozma stepped close. “You can always forfeit. Artemis can take the last point.”

  With a trade of blows. I shook my head. I still had no idea what that would mean, and didn’t like it. She’d take the blow first. She could lose. She could die.

  But Kitsune had made the win easy. All I had to do was accept his required oath and give him a trivial one. Ask for a single chrysanthemum—even an open ended one-time favor—and then wait for him to get out of here and come looking for me to make good on my promise. He could be stuck here for a hundred years and unless I got myself killed I’d still be around waiting for him; Beauty and the Beast, a promised marriage for a rose.