Zero Sum

by B. Justin Shier

  When I turned back to thank the fox, the bushy little creature was gone.

  “Finally,” Rei said. “Cumo, release Dieter. Dieter, obstruct the door with the cabinet. Then pin Fukimura-san’s legs.” Rei slid Ichijo’s bed away from the wall. She started tearing out IV lines and shutting off machines.

  “Whoa, Rei!” I exclaimed. “I think Ichijo needs those for like life and stuff.”

  “Now is not the time to argue. Stop thinking and do what I say.” She turned to Cumo. “Cumo, fegyelmezi magát Fukimura-san.”

  With a huff, the big dog scrambled up on top of Ichijo’s bed and sat square on his chest.

  “Stars above, Rei,” I said, jamming a supply cabinet against the door. “I’m cool with you trying some herbal remedies, but Cumo weighs like nine hundred pounds. Do you want to kill him?”

  “No, Dieter. Far from it.” Grasping both of Ichijo’s hands with her own, Rei pinned them over his head, and put all her weight down on top of them. “I do not desire Fukimura-san’s death; however, I do not wish to meet my own end, either. Now get up on this bed and place all of your fat upon his knees—and do keep clear of his toes.”

  Rei seemed to know what she was doing, so I did as I was told. I lifted my 6’1’ frame up onto the bed and sat down on Ichijo’s knees. Cumo glanced back at me, panting happily. (He was in his element.)

  “It’s coming,” Rei hissed. Her skin fuzzed out as her muscles tensed. I raised an eyebrow. Rei was going all out. Just when I was about to ask her why, my Sight flashed to life. Waves of light shot off in every direction. Without that forewarning, the first kick would have launched me straight into the air. My Sight had bought me enough time to grasp the bed railings and resisted it.

  “Hold firm,” Rei shouted. “Until Fukimura-san regains consciousness, we cannot let his body loose.”

  Ichijo let loose a series of growls and snarls. The bed jerked, and Rei winced in pain. I looked up to see Ichijo’s fingers digging into both of her forearms. Hissing with rage, she pinned Ichijo’s wrists with one hand and snatched his IV pole with the other. Blue-tinged blood splashed across the walls. Her wounds looked grievous, but Rei was undeterred. She bent the metal pole around Ichijo’s arms, binding him to the bed. Ichijo’s arms secured, Rei turned to tending to her wounds. A lavender scent had overpowered the entire room. I watched in utter fascination as she put pressure on the deep gashes.

  “Unbelievable,” she growled. “The kurva bitch nearly bled me.”

  “Do you need help?” I asked. Another of Ichijo’s kicks launched me into the air, but I barely even noticed.

  Rei glanced up at me and her eyes narrowed. “No. Be useful. Keep your weight and his legs.”

  “You sure?” I didn’t know why, but the sight of Rei’s—

  “Dieter! Snap out of it,” she said icily. “I need you to focus.”

  I shook my head clear. She was right. I needed to hold Ichijo down. I tightened my grip on the bed.

  Rei rushed over to the supply cabinet and dug out a gallon of bleach and a bedpan. As I bucked and bounced on Ichijo’s legs, she went over to the sink and mixed bleach and water in the pan. Back and forth she went, splashing every single surface in the room. The fragrant lavender was replaced by an irritating chlorine stench.

  “What the hell is going on?” I yelled above Ichijo’s growls and snarls.

  “This is a tsukimono-suji in the throws of kitsune-tsuki.”

  I looked at Rei in confusion. “English please, sensei.”

  “Fukimura-san is a fox employer. He was charged at birth with the duty of restraining this demon bitch…but trouble arose. Ichijo fled his kitsune. Through distance and spells he managed to restrain her. But those magiks failed when he lost consciousness. Now, as is their nature, his kitsune has traveled across land and sea to reclaim him. He is in the throes of her possession. The process is very dangerous…” Rei smiled. “But it is also restorative.”

  People started banging on the door. (Presumably the nursing staff in utter panic over the flatline on Ichijo’s monitor.) I looked around the blood-spattered room. This was gonna be kinda hard to explain…

  Ichijo launched Cumo and me into the air again.

  “This Exorcist moment is restorative?”

  “Yes, my most hefty confederate. As my blood is to a dhampir, a kitsune’s spirit is to tsukimono-suji. But unlike me”—Rei grinned—“this bitch is a dark and malevolent creature who cannot be trusted.”

  “Hikakibo whore!” Ichijo shouted in his new high-pitched voice.

  Rei rolled her eyes. “She is quite charming, is she not?”

  “What’s a hikakibo?”

  “A pointy wrought iron device. The Japanese use them to stoke fires.”

  “Huh?”

  “A fire-poker, Dieter. It is derogatory.”

  “Oh,” I said. “So there are Japanese Nostophoros too?” Who knew?

  Rei picked her wristwatch off the floor. Ichijo’s claws had slashed clean through the strap. She checked the time and sighed in relief. “Thank heparin.” She reached into the pocket of her robe and palmed some white rice.

  “No!” Ichijo screamed. “You hikakibo bitch! You slurping whore! I shall find you! I shall—”

  “Shut up,” Rei said, tossing the dried rice at Ichijo’s face.

  The room flashed.

  Cumo yowled.

  I was launched clean off the bed.

  The strawberry-blond fox leapt out of Ichijo’s chest, onto the windowsill, and off into the darkness.

  Cumo looked from Rei to the window desperately.

  Rei grinned. “Cumo, üldöz.”

  Cumo bayed, scrambled off Ichijo, and burst out the window taking one of the white curtains with him.

  “Wow,” I said, wiping the sweat from my brow, “restorative is right.” Ichijo’s once-scarred abdomen looked like new. “But is Cumo going to be okay? A kitsune is some sort of demon, right?”

  Rei crossed her arms. “Do not doubt my dog, Dieter. Cumo warms up on wolves. He will keep the bitch occupied until Ichijo can restore his wards.” Rei looked at me levelly. “And, Dieter, not a word of this to anyone. Fukimura-san values my discretion—and we most definitely require his.”

  I swallowed. So it was as I thought. Ichijo knew about our weft-link. In fact, he seemed to have sensed it the moment we arrived at Elliot. That made more sense now. Being tsukimono-suji, Ichijo probably knew just what to look for. I nodded and removed the cabinet from in front of the door.

  The medics and nurses stormed past us, only to drop their jaws. Ichijo had woken from his coma. A confused Roster came in after them. He was carrying a bulging bag of grease.

  “You’re early,” I commented.

  “Couldn’t sleep. Went into the Haven instead.” He took a look at the thrashed room, noted the semi-lucid Ichijo foaming at the mouth, watched the medics struggle to unwrap Rei’s improvised restraints, and nodded at the blood spattered walls. After inspecting Rei’s bandaged wrists, Roster returned his attention to his jelly donut.

  “So whatcha two up to?” he asked.

  “Nothing much,” I replied. “Just raising the dead ‘n such. You got sprinkles?”

  “Hell yes. Nothing but the best for my man Willis.”

  Rei crossed her bloodied arms in disapproval. “Magus Resnick. Magus Dregs. I have researched these fried dough products you have begun consuming at regular intervals, and I have uncovered that they contain no nutritional value. Your bellies will grow large, your performance in combat will suffer, and you will break out into something called ‘acne.’ I have conferenced with both the Druid and Mordred on this matter. Starting tomorrow, you will consume a meal of boiled oats and raisins in the morning, a meal comprised of leafy green vegetables at mid-day, and—”

  “They just don’t understand,” Roster said shaking his head.

  “Demons. All of them,” I muttered. In defiance, I grabbed one donut in each hand and went to town on both of them.

  Rei’s eyes narrowe
d. “You shall not prevail.”

  In the middle of our breakfast ritual, Roster gestured at Rei. “Oh, I forgot. There’s two pasty lookin’ guys in the lobby. Said they were from the AVH. They looked dick. Want me to tell them to go bite a brick?”

  The smile faded from Rei’s face. “So soon…?” She ran an unsteady hand through her hair. “Thank you for the thought, Magus Dregs, but that will be unnecessary. Would you two excuse me for a moment?”

  Rei walked over to Ichijo’s bed.

  I frowned. Roster’s comment had really set Rei off; my delicious donut with pink sprinkles tasted like sour milk.

  “What gives?” Roster asked.

  “The mysteries of the fanged-ones are beyond our grasp, Detective Murtaugh.”

  “Dietos, I do not look like Danny Glover.”

  Rei knelt down next to Ichijo. “Fukimura-san, I apologize for the haste, but I require your mind.”

  Ichijo looked grim. He put his hand on hers, and the two of them sat staring at one another for several minutes before Ichijo leaned back with a sigh.

  “You have my word, Bathory-hime,” he said gravely. “I will manage it.”

  Rei stood, bowed deeply, and turned to me.

  “Dieter, I require a moment with you as well.” She gestured to the window.

  “Roster, you mind?” I asked.

  Roster waved me away. “Don’t sweat it. I’ll keep an eye on Ichi. Go do what you gotta do.”

  I nodded, grabbed my flight jacket and robe, and followed Rei out the window.

  +

  We walked across the mixture of snow and frozen slush that claimed to be Elliot’s lawn. It was an hour till dawn on one of the coldest days of the year. The campus was empty. Classes didn’t start for another two weeks, and the students from the IKΛM squads were all that was left of the normally bustling campus. I shivered despite my many layers. No matter how much crud I piled on, the cold Connecticut air managed to cut through all my clothes like butter. I shook my head. I’d had no idea what a real winter was like. I marveled at Rei. Her only protection was a long sleeve shirt and an unbuttoned robe. I pulled my beanie down further and beat my arms against my sides—drainers had all the luck.

  Rei led me across the Elliot field toward the snowy crests of Sleeping Giant. She stopped when we reached the tree line. I recognized the spot. If you looked hard enough, you could still see the mark my ass made in the turf. We’d never spoken of that night, and I wondered what had prompted Rei to bring me here. She arched her back and looked up at the countless crystalline spheres above us.

  “Cold is the night when the stars shine bright…Dieter, do you know this phrase?”

  “No, but it makes sense. Cold air holds less water vapor. That makes the stars easier to see.”

  “My father often recites this maxim. He insists it means different.”

  I looked up at the sky. A million tiny lights flickered back at me.

  Starlight is amazing. Most of the stars that shed those rays are already dead. They sent those lonely shimmers off eons ago, bright messages that streamed out tirelessly into the night. The lonely travelers had swept past any number of fantastic sights. Planets birthing. Planets dying. Novas. Pulsars. Black holes and white dwarfs. Meteors and comets. Neutron stars spinning. Dark matter lurking. Crazy names for crazier things. I think that’s why starlight is amazing. Those tiny flecks of light travelled through hell and high water to reach us. We relish them for a second, and then they’re gone. It would have taken just one tiny speck of dust, a single indifferent bend of gravity, and those rays would have been lost to us forever. A voyage that lasted a billion years…what fantastic odds. Unbelievable. Magical. So I wondered, was it with relief or sorrow that one such shimmer of dying light smashed headlong into that lonesome tear? Was the end of its voyage a horror? A mercy?

  The link whispered, and my world cracked. Two things were instantly certain. That ray of light’s voyage was over—and so was our own.

  “No,” I said with a shudder.

  Rei looked past me. “I must, Dieter.”

  “But why?”

  “Because it is our way. We discussed this already. If Anna chose to press charges, I would have to answer for my crimes.”

  “But you saved thousands of lives.”

  Rei scowled. “Absolutely irrelevant. I manifested in public. I slew an officer of my sister’s court. I assaulted another member of the aristocracy. And…” Rei bit her lip. She wouldn’t speak it, but it hung in the air.

  “And she knows it will hurt me?”

  “Knowingly or not, Dieter, you thwarted her efforts.”

  “But—”

  “You excite her, Dieter. You tease her blood. Anna has lived so very long. Live long enough, and such a diversion becomes as rare and precious as a July snow. She could never ignore it. She could never let it be. She covets you now—and my eldest sister does not dole out hugs. She will aim to feast upon your anguish. She wants to know how far you will bend until you break.” Rei clenched her fists, and I could hear the brooding fury as she spoke. “She will do so slowly…perhaps over many years.”

  “Rei,” I said, shaking my head, “I appreciate your concern, but this is ridiculous. Why would Anna waste her time on me?”

  Rei flushed, and a glimmer of the dark thing danced behind her eyes. “This is most certainly not ridiculous. You know the defects of our nature. We lust for a challenge. We were built for the chase. Anna wants to listen as you beat your empty fists against the ground. She wants to hear your cries. She wants to smell your despair.” Rei ran an uneasy hand through her hair. “She is just like her mother. Two doses of the madness were too much.”

  “Her mother?” I asked in confusion. “You mean…”

  Rei nodded. “Yes. Anna and I share only our father, Theodus Nadasdy Bathory, The Black Hero of Szigetvar, King of Cahokia.”

  I couldn’t even pronounce Szigetvar, so I tried for “Ca-ho-ki-a” instead.

  “Yes, Cahokia is my fiefdom. It includes the modern states of Illinois, Indiana, and Michigan—plus a small portion of Wisconsin.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling a bit dizzy at the scale. “And Anna’s mother?”

  “You know of her. We have discussed her in the past.”

  I swallowed. “Erzsébet? Are you telling me Anna’s mother is the Erzsébet Bathory? The Bloody Countess? The Lady of Cachtice?”

  “Yes, Dieter. None other.”

  Erzsébet Bathory. Perhaps the most prolific serial killer of all time—well over six-hundred women tortured and killed by her own hand—all while successfully guarding the roads to Continental Europe from marauding Turks. A brilliant strategist and a maniac, she invented the concept of a bloodbath. (Apparently it did wonders for the skin.) In the end, the Hungarian aristocracy cemented her into a room and ran for the hills.

  “And your mother?”

  “Alastice de Rais, Queen of the Acadians. That is Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama to your ear.”

  “Oh.” That didn’t sound so bad. They had chicory coffee and Mardis Gras down there (I’d seen the informative TV advertisements with the wild ladies).

  “Alastice’s father was Gilles de Rais,” Rei added sourly.

  “Oh.” Gilles de Rais. He was a compatriot of Joan of Arc, a famous soldier, and a more famous child murderer. I made a mental note to keep Rei away from any and all small children.

  Rei scuffed her boot. “I warned you at the start.”

  “And I ignored you.” I forced a smile. No wonder Rei freaked people out. “So, why does Anna hate you so much?”

  “The union of the two monarchs was unforeseen. To some in the aristocracy, it was unforgivable. The royal lines were not to be crossed. The ancient scrolls cautioned that such hybridizations were…unstable. It is told that in the distant past, the Vita Paciscor personally extinguished such abominations.” She gave me a meek smile. “Further, since there is no precedence for a daughter of two monarchs, I lack clear station in my people’s hierarchy. T
his is why some have taken to calling me a—”

  “A princess?” I tried to picture Rei wearing a tiara…it wasn’t happening.

  Rei frowned. “The term alone is dangerous. It risks elevating the standing of a younger sibling over that of the elders of the same brood.” This, at least, I could understand. I could see why Anna (at least five hundred years Rei’s senior) might get a tad peeved by some upstart cutting in the line for the throne. “My very being has riled the traditionalists. But still more ridiculous is the reaction of some of the Turned. They look at me with…” She shrugged. “Oh, Dieter, I have no idea what to even call it.”

  “The word you’re looking for is reverence. I sensed as much in the condo. It was like they expected you to sprout wings and shoot sparkles.”

  “The Turned are fools.” Rei swept the air in anger. “It is nonsense, all of it. If anything, I am a dud of a Pure. I’ve embarrassed father countless times, I’m an absolute disaster at politics—and you can forget ballroom dancing. I can’t even balance in heels.” Her ramrod posture gave way, and Rei leaned against a tree. “I’m not even worth jabbing a stick at.”

  “Oh come on, Rei. I’m sure there are plenty of people who would love to drive a piece of bark into your insides. My dad tried pretty hard.”

  “Don’t jest. How could a person like you ever understand? You haven’t any idea what it is like.”

  “Sorry.” I put my hands in my pockets and sighed. I guess Rei was right. I’d never owned a bike—let alone an entire kingdom.

  “That’s not what I mean.” Rei’s eyes softened and she looked down at the ground. “I mean that if anyone’s special, it is you.”

  I looked at Rei in utter bafflement. I looked left and right. “Me?”

  Rei shook her head and sighed. “Where to start…your life is a clean slate. You have no handlers telling what you must do. You have no titles. No duties. No proposals to avoid. You have power and brains enough to choose your own fate. You’re both a Dealer and a dhampir. You’re a clumsy oaf now, Dieter, but with some polishing, no one would be able to tell you what to do.”