Hell's Pawn

by Jay Bell

  John stood cautiously and offered his hand. “Then I think we have a deal.” Chapter Fourteen

  Fists of clay pummeled the demon’s back, striking the exposed skin without mercy.

  R immon lay face-down on the ground, a vanquished foe powerless against the brutal onslaught. He moaned in pleasure.

  “Don’t ever stop,” he pleaded. “The massage parlors in Hell can’t compare with your skills, Yi Yi. Not that much massaging takes place in such establishments.” Next to them, B olo was playing tug of war, his jaw clenched firmly on a rope pulled by six terraco a soldiers on the other side. The soldiers—who were clearly humoring the dog and could easily win—were in high spirits. The recent ba le had dusted off their cobwebs, and news of a full-fledged war had them feeling nearly as optimistic as Yi Yi. M ost of them were in council with L iu W u, who began formulating strategies as soon as he had been briefed about the enemy. The king was determined to be as involved as possible with the ba le, even though he didn’t plan to take the field himself.

  R immon and B olo had made quick recoveries, the arrows that penetrated them disappearing the moment the soldiers willed them to. The demon admi ed that he had been captured swiftly and efficiently by the soldiers, an experience that had earned his full confidence in their abilities. The arrows were an effective weapon. Not only were they painful, but they rendered the victim’s body immobile while causing the mind to enter a delusional state. All in all, the mission had been a complete success. Except for one crucial aspect.

  “Dante,” John said meaningfully.

  “Yes,” R immon said. “I was just giving some thought to that. S omeone in the village might have a connection to the goddess Amaterasu or at least know something that could help us. Perhaps L iu W u could send soldiers out to the villagers to ask on our behalf. It would be much faster than going door-to-door ourselves.”

  “It’s worth a try,” John said. “I’ll ask him right away.”

  “Never heard of her,” L iu W u grunted when J ohn found him. The king was pouring over an ancient book that had diagrams of soldiers in various training exercises. “I could send men out to survey my people, but you should ask Kenjo first. All he ever did in life was read. I t’s as if someone crammed an entire talking library into a jar.

  There’s a reason I had him moved to my throne room. You can’t imagine how useful that is.”

  J ohn thought wistfully of the I nternet as he made his way back to the throne room.

  Were there more monks in burial jars? I f J ohn could find a way to network them, he could be the afterlife’s version of an Internet tycoon.

  He felt somewhat awkward when approaching the jar, wondering what the standard protocol was. S hould he knock politely or simply crawl inside like he did before? I n the end he decided to remove the lid and call Kenjo’s name. O range light collected into the shape of a man again. Now, with only his upper torso visible, the monk really did resemble a genie. Kenjo patiently waited for him to speak, a serene smile on his face.

  J ohn explained what had happened to Dante. This went much smoother than he expected since the monk was already comfortable with the idea of past lives and reincarnation. Kenjo listened closely and without interruption. W hen finished, J ohn braced himself for another existential quote from B uddha, but instead the monk began to tell him a story.

  “What do you know of Japanese mythology?” Kenjo asked first.

  “Nothing at all,” John admitted.

  The monk nodded and began his tale.

  “Amaterasu was the goddess of the sun. Her twin brother, I zanagi, was god of the moon. B oth of them were renowned for their grace and fair appearance. The twins had a younger sibling, S usanoo, who was neither fair nor graceful. S usanoo was known for his temper and lack of manners. How fi ing, then, that he was god of storms and the temperamental sea.

  “I zanagi, tiring of his li le brother’s rude behavior, went to great pains to banish him from the heavens. S usanoo eventually agreed to go, but insisted first on visiting his sister Amaterasu to say goodbye. S usanoo went to her home and made himself a guest there. S oon it became clear that he had no intention of leaving, so the sun goddess decided to challenge him to a game. I f S usanoo lost, he would leave, but if he won, he would be allowed to stay in her home indefinitely.

  “The contest was to see who was more skilled at bringing life into the world. The sun goddess took S usanoo’s sword and fashioned from it two men. Drawing inspiration from this, S usanoo took Amaterasu’s necklace and divided it into three women. He delighted instantly in his victory, only to be quelled by his sister.

  “‘The necklace belongs to me,’ the goddess said, ‘and thus so do the women. I have won the contest and you must go!’”

  “That’s not fair!” John interrupted.

  “S usanoo felt the same and was so outraged by his sister’s trickery that he refused to leave and made a nuisance of himself, chasing away the goddess’s animals and terrorizing her servants. E ventually Amaterasu could take it no more and fled to a cave, where she sealed herself away from the world. The earth suffered in her absence, for there was no more light and the crops could not grow. W ithout the goddess, the world grew dark, hungry, and cold.

  “All the other gods gathered outside the cave and begged Amaterasu to come out, but she wouldn’t heed their cries. Finally, clever Uzume, goddess of happiness, devised a plan. First she placed a mirror in a tree across from the cave. S he then dressed herself in flowers, turned a wash bucket over, and started to dance on top of it.

  Then she began to strip off her clothes, which had the other gods cheering and laughing in amusement. Amaterasu heard the music and merriment and asked what was happening. How could they be enjoying themselves with no sun in the sky?

  “‘There’s a new sun goddess,’ Uzume replied. ‘One of indescribable beauty!’

  “O vercome with curiosity, Amaterasu came out of her cave. The first thing she saw was her own face in the mirror and was fla ered. Then she saw the silly dance that Uzume was performing for the other gods and was herself overcome with laughter.

  S he left her cave and her sorrows behind, and once again blessed the earth with her light.”

  J ohn appreciated the monk’s story, but he didn’t see how it would help him get Dante back. His puzzlement must have been clear, because Kenjo spoke further.

  “L egend says that the kagura, the spiritual dances performed by those of S hinto faith, take their origin from Uzume’s dance and are performed at the I mperial court by the descendants of Amaterasu.”

  “And you think one of these kagura dances might attract the goddess to us?” The monk smiled. “If it is sufficiently amusing.”

  “I f dressing in drag and dancing around is what it takes to get Dante back,” J ohn said, “then count me in.”

  “Forgive me,” Kenjo said, “but your features are very fair. I feel you would make an attractive woman, rather than one that invokes mirth.”

  “Then what do you suggest?”

  * * * * *

  V illagers shuffled excitedly, the crowd at least six deep. The object of their a ention was an overturned water barrel centered on a bare patch of dirt. C ha er filled the air, occasionally interrupted by laughter. W hen the soldiers of the king arrived, waving banners ten times their size, the crowd fell silent and parted to let them pass.

  R immon scowled as he entered the clearing, looking as ferocious as a chained beast, an impressive feat considering his a ire. His wig was woven from field grass and decorated through with white lilies, and his makeup was atrocious. W hite paint covered his face, sharp arches of pink running from his eyelids to his temples. O nly the natural red of his lips was left exposed to simulate lipstick.

  As for his clothing, the tops of two pumpkins had been cut off and fashioned into a bra, the stems pointing upwards like bizarre nipples. A skirt of bamboo and elevated wooden sandals completed the look, with the extra touch of silk bows tied along Rimmon’s tail.

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p; J ohn led B olo to the front of the crowd as R immon climbed onto the barrel.

  C onvincing the demon to do this hadn’t been easy, especially when word of mouth spread and the entire village expressed interest in being there. J ohn assured him that they were coming to see a demon and a goddess for the first time, not to laugh at him.

  B esides, J ohn felt they owed the villagers something for terrorizing them and burning their homes. As R immon had promised, all had quickly been set right again, but compensation for their troubles in the form of entertainment seemed fair.

  They required the villagers’ assistance too, since they needed music for their dance.

  Liu Wu arrived in a jiao, a chair mounted on two poles and carried by four men. I n this case, four of the li le soldiers were holding the king effortlessly aloft, giving him the best—and only—seat in the audience. L iu W u gestured with his hand, and a number of villagers came forward with drums.

  R immon climbed onto the barrel and gave one hopeful glance at the sky, as if the goddess might appear without him having to dance. S hapeless gray clouds were all that could be seen.

  The musicians began drumming, and the audience cheered, eager for their show.

  R immon stepped to the left and then to the right. He was moving to the beat, but his dance was hardly inspiring. He continued to shuffle back and forth, his eyes not meeting the now-grumbling crowd.

  “Come on!” John yelled. “Show these people what a real incubus can do!” R immon’s gaze rose to meet his, and J ohn nodded encouragingly. A slow cocky grin spread across R immon’s face as his torso began to gyrate, a movement that wound down to his pelvis, which pumped just enough to be suggestive. His forked tail began to thump against the barrel, se ing a new beat that the musicians quickly picked up.

  R immon’s steps were twice as fast now as he turned and whirled, showing off every angle of his body.

  There was laughter from the men in the audience, but most of it was drowned out by appreciative catcalls from the women. E ventually the men grew quieter, and when J ohn tore his eyes away from the strangely erotic display, he found most of them looking confused. The men hadn’t expected to find R immon so sexually appealing, but the incubus was turning the ridiculous costume to his advantage, rubbing his hands over the pumpkin breasts and hiding them so the men were forced to use their imaginations.

  The air was ge ing tense with confused passion when the clouds parted enough to allow a beam of sparkling sunlight through. R immon kept dancing, but one by one he lost his audience to the glimmering beauty that now stood in their midst. The goddess was difficult to see clearly, light moving along her skin, the sun’s reflection on water.

  E very part they could see—a hint of eyes, a li le bit of leg—was perfection. The goddess turned to watch Rimmon, laughing in delight.

  S he was given a good show, as piece by piece, the demon took off his costume without missing a beat. S oon he was revealed in all his glorious masculinity, even managing to wipe away the makeup in a becoming manner. The skirt was the last to fall away, and after an appreciative gasp from the audience, R immon snapped his fingers and was dressed in contemporary clothing again. Then the audience began to drift away, all of them in pairs. The men had something they wanted to prove, and the women were in the mood to let them.

  “Amaterasu,” Rimmon said. “You honor us with your presence.”

  “I ’ve never seen a kagura performed like that before,” the goddess said, her voice the sound of wind chimes on a summer breeze.

  “I hope it was still to your liking.”

  “O h, it was,” Amaterasu breathed. “I shall commit the details to my memory for all eternity.”

  R immon smiled as he hopped off the barrel. “You fla er me, sweet sun goddess. I t pains me to ask for anything more than your generous presence here, but I believe you recently rescued a friend of ours. We’d very much like to be reunited with her.” The light of the goddess dimmed suddenly, revealing her frown. “You mean this?” There was a scream from the sky that grew louder as it neared, ending with a thump. Fumiko pulled herself up from the dirt and scowled. “W hat was that for?” she demanded. “This is how you treat your guests?”

  “Not since my brother S usanoo overstayed his welcome has my home been made so miserable,” the goddess complained. “I n fact, I rather prefer S usanoo’s company to that of this witch! You will do me a great favor by taking her back into your care!”

  “My only wish is to serve you,” Rimmon said solemnly, “ but I can’t help notice that she is no longer wearing the jewelry she left with.”

  The R egression R egalia! W ithout it they couldn’t transform Dante back. For all of his shortcomings, at least the I rishman wasn’t as treacherous as the old woman before them.

  Amaterasu cupped her hand, and the jewels appeared there. “I took them as payment for the generous accommodations I provided, although a mountain of jewels wouldn’t have been enough!”

  Fumiko didn’t have a retort. S he was eying her surroundings with an all-to-familiar air. E scape was her intent. R immon must have sensed this, for he stepped forward and grabbed her arm.

  “As much as you deserve compensation for your troubles,” R immon addressed the goddess, “those jewels weren’t Fumiko’s to give.”

  “You would take them from me?” Amaterasu sounded surprised.

  “Not without giving you something in return.”

  The full force of R immon’s allure hit J ohn like a wall. He was nearly overcome with the urge to run to him, until he realized that he wasn’t the intended target.

  The goddess’s eyes sparkled as they grew wide. “What would you offer?” Rimmon’s reply was quick. “I’d show the sun how to move through the night.” J ohn’s stomach sank. Was he serious? Was he really going to sleep with the goddess just to get the R egalia back? He could barely stomach what happened next: Amaterasu handed him the jewels, her hand lingering on Rimmon’s and moving up his arm.

  J ohn tore his eyes away, pulse beating in his neck. The green-eyed beast inside him stirred, refusing to be silent this time. J ust the thought of R immon being with the goddess was enough to make J ohn shake with anger. W hen had this happened? W hen had he decided that R immon belonged to him? J ohn never should have touched his incubus heart, but until now, he hadn’t fully understood the ramifications.

  “John.”

  The demon stood before him, a knowing expression on his face. J ohn met his gaze with difficulty.

  “Take these,” R immon said, handing him the jewels. “Use them on Fumiko, but not in front of anyone. We dare not reveal their value. I ’ll be with you again in the morning.”

  J ohn couldn’t answer. He looked away to where a number of terraco a soldiers were holding Fumiko in place.

  “When I see that expression,” Rimmon sighed, “it’s like seeing his face again.” J ohn turned away. I t was bad enough that R immon was prostituting himself. The reminder that his heart had long been taken by somebody else was too much to bear.

  B y the time J ohn gathered the strength to raise his head, the demon and the goddess were gone.

  * * * * *

  The old woman growled and launched herself at him again. S he had recovered surprisingly fast from the piledriver J ohn had subjected her to. S he came at him with splayed fingers, her nails whistling past J ohn’s nose before he ducked and shot an uppercut straight into her chin. The old woman spun in a complete circle before falling to the ground.

  Doing ba le with a senior citizen was hardly his proudest moment, so J ohn was relieved no one was around to witness it. O btaining privacy hadn’t been difficult. L iu W u had raised his eyebrows when first seeing Fumiko squirming to get loose from J ohn’s grip, but had shrugged in a manner that suggested it was no concern of his. He probably thought J ohn had taken an unwilling lover, but the truth couldn’t be explained without revealing the Regression Regalia.

  Fumiko now lay on a floor that was just as bare as the walls. O nly a bed
furnished the room, on it the priceless jewelry. J ohn grabbed the R egalia before pouncing on Fumiko, punching her a few more times after she spit in his face and bit his arm. After a couple more amateur wrestling moves, J ohn managed to get the necklace and bracelets on her arms and neck. He stabbed at the onyx jewel on the left wrist, glad when the venomous old woman finally disappeared in a lightshow. The potbellied, ginger-haired man appeared next. J ohn didn’t give him a chance to speak before he pressed the dark gem again.

  He sighed with relief when Dante’s familiar form reappeared.

  “Get these things off me!” he spluttered. “And then you get off me, too!”

  “S orry!” J ohn said, doing as he was told. “For all of it, I mean. We should have explained the plan, given you a choice.”

  “I t’s just as well you didn’t,” Dante grunted as he stood. “I never wanted to be her again. Not in a million years!”

  J ohn paused, unsure if he had understood. “You mean you knew about Fumiko even before all of this?”

  “Her and everyone else I ’ve ever been, yeah.” Now it was the I rishman who expressed surprise. “You mean you don’t?”

  “No,” John said flatly. “Why do you think that is?”

  “S ide effect of the big spooky secret, I suppose,” Dante said, wiggling his fingers theatrically. “I t’s not as interesting as you’d think, remembering past lives. They’re just the numbers that add up to the sum of who you are. I ’m sure you noticed that Fumiko and I share similar morals. S he was just me a few steps back, that’s all. I t’s like remembering what an awkward twit you were at twelve.”

  J ohn thought of how he had been all teeth and legs back then. “You’re right. That doesn’t sound like fun.”

  “I t wasn’t all bad. At least I got to spend time with the goddess. Not as a man, unfortunately, but that had its benefits. S he even asked me to help her get dressed once. Can you believe that?”

  J ohn’s stomach sank, the idea of R immon sleeping with the goddess causing a dull pain in his chest. L ogically, he knew he shouldn’t be bothered. He’d known what R immon was since they first met. C all him incubus or ambassador, when R immon’s profession was boiled down to the basics, he was first and foremost a hustler. I n a way, all politicians were whores, doing everything to please the right people in order to get what they want. R immon was simply more honest and direct in his methods. And he had always been honest with J ohn—right from the beginning—by never making any false promises.