The Haunted Onsen

by Phil Gabriel

  “The other treasure was a souvenir of Ashley’s childhood,” I said. Don’t you mean yolkhood? asked the madman who lived in my brain. “She asked me not to divulge the information to anyone.”

  “But I want to see it,” insisted Kitty-Sue.

  “Didn’t you know that curiosity killed the c—” At her glare, I stopped suddenly. Kitsune hate being compared to cats. “—kit,” I finished.

  Suddenly she had knives in her hands. Damn, where did she hide those blades? She was completely naked when she stepped into the pool. The water seemed even colder than before.

  “I really like these blades you made for me,” she said. “The crystal is beautiful, holds an edge that can cut through almost anything, and water and steam can’t cause rust.”

  Akiko interrupted. “Kitty-Sue-san,” she said, “Scott-sensei has a right to his secrets. He is probably under a vow to not reveal the second treasure.”

  “Yes,” said Kitty-Sue as she examined the edge of a blade, “he should be able to keep secrets.”

  Then turning to me, she added, “As long as you can swear this ‘secret’ will not be used against me or my clan.” Her fingers were tensed for a throw. Even though injury to me would boomerang back to her, she would still do it if it meant protecting her queen.

  Sometimes I longed to be free of my vows, to be able to answer a question like that with, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’d never hurt you or your family.” But as a magician, “never” and “always” weren’t part of my vocabulary. I couldn’t make blanket statements like that. Instead, I temporized.

  “Kitty-Sue,” I said, “I have no intention of using any of my secrets against you or your family.” That was the best I could do.

  “All right,” she said with a smile, and the knives disappeared. “That’s all I needed to hear.” Her stroking of my thigh started again. I stretched my foot out and returned her caress. She pushed out, bringing herself closer to me, and closed her eyes in pleasure at my touch.

  Kitty-Sue suddenly opened her eyes. “Scott-san,” she said, “do you remember my sister?”

  My mind raced frantically at the change in subject. Natsumi? The two-tailed nogitsune that had ensnared me with her pheromones and sex appeal and then tried to rob and kill me? The girl that had forced me to perform auto-brain surgery to break her hold on me? The girl who had shown me tricks in bed that surprised this old soldier? Ensnared? I remember us as willing participants. Damn conscience, sometimes I wanted to get rid of him.

  “Vaguely,” I responded.

  “Your promise to not harm my family doesn’t have to apply to her,” said Kitty-Sue.

  “OK,” I said, “if the dragon ever goes back to human sacrifice, her name will be at the top of the list.”

  Comforted by the thought of her sister getting devoured by the dragon, Kitty-Sue closed her eyes and smiled a secret smile.

  She looked so cute and cuddly, I wanted to carry her to bed.

  I suddenly felt bad for Akiko, who could not join us. When would she be able to feel again?

  I looked over, and Akiko had the expression I had seen many times—she was working on a problem in her mind, nearly oblivious to everything around her.

  She felt my attention through our psychic link. Turning to me, she said, “I’m having trouble with the update. I’ve run the numbers several times, with varying parameters, and I can’t get the answer.”

  Kitty-Sue opened one eye and said, “You two number crunchers work on this. I’m going to take a nap.” With that she closed her eye and started snoring. Her stroking foot dropped from my thigh.

  As a ghost, Akiko didn’t need sleep. I had learned in the jungles of Vietnam how to use magic to go for extended periods without sleep. Kitty-Sue, for all of her abilities, still had to sleep.

  For a moment, I felt sorry for her. Then I realized she was faster than me, she was stronger than me, and she was probably smarter than me. Probably? Shut up, voice in my head.

  Compared to her qualities, needing to doze every now and then was a minor issue.

  I had reached my limit on magic absorption for the present. My tanks were still very low, but I couldn’t pump any more energy. I waded through the water and picked up Kitty-Sue. Normally, when disturbed, she woke ready to kill, but now she just cuddled her head into my chest.

  I walked to the set of underwater stone steps and exited the pool. I laid Kitty-Sue on a chaise lounge chair and placed a towel over her. She curled up and made soft sounds before drifting back to sleep.

  I stepped away and wrapped another towel around myself to dry off. “Akiko,” I said, “let’s go work on that chart.”

  Akiko rose from the pool, levitating to the top of the water. One step from the water to the stone and she was beside me. The water clung to her, the droplets making intriguing paths down her body. My eyes followed one drop from her collarbone as it slid gracefully down the slope of her right breast, touching her aureole, then her rigid nipple, before falling away. Another drop wended its way from her belly button down to the dark thatch of hair at her crotch.

  I really wanted to grab a towel and rub her down, just in the interest of getting her dry. Or getting her wet? Shut up, you.

  However, as she was a ghost, rubbing her down would have been a complicated procedure. She tilted her head and smiled at me, then took her long hair in her hands and wrung out the water. Hair almost dry, she then shook her body, making exciting motions. I had to turn away and concentrate on drying off and rearranging my towel to hide an obvious erection.

  Composed, I turned back to find Akiko had materialized her clothes. She was dressed in her favorite anime outfit, this time with a green ladies’ tie and matching hair ribbon. She was sexier clothed as an anime fantasy girl than she had been naked.

  At my admiring look, she dimpled and said, “Shall we go work on the chart now?”

  “Yes,” I said. “We’ll leave Kitty-Sue here to get her rest.”

  Akiko cast an envious look at Kitty-Sue’s face. She missed being able to sleep. I touched her ghostly hand and led her away to Koji’s office so we could work on the chart.

  9

  Ritualist Rites

  Working through the night and the next day, coincidentally kicking Koji out of his office, we were able to create a new map chart that accurately reflected the local energy flows. It could also predict upcoming changes. At Akiko’s suggestion, I used a small quantity of my precious supply of dragon’s blood to mix with the ink. This allowed some intriguing spell-work to be run.

  We presented the chart to Koji on Friday night at 7:00 p.m. Kitty-Sue, the invisible Akiko, and I pointed out the new chart mounted on the wall.

  He examined the chart closely, putting on a pair of glasses to make out the tiny script. He seemed pleased with the results but looked askance at the floor. A set of footprints was embossed into the tile, looking something like one of those old-time “how-to-dance” illustrations. We had had to move some furniture around to create extra space.

  “These footprints,” he said, “what are they for?”

  Akiko beamed with pride as I explained. “Instead of staying in a fixed position, we found that moving enhances the chances of encountering the magical flows. These footprints will signal a required move to get in the path of the flow. This will increase the probability of success.”

  Koji shook his head in disbelief. “How would this work?”

  Time for a demonstration. Looking at the chart and the time, I said, “For the next nine minutes, the chart indicates that a positive random outcome spell will be most likely to succeed. Watch.”

  I touched the line on the chart for that spell, and the corresponding footprints that would force me to face the flows correctly lit up. I stepped on the glowing symbols, held my hands up in the correct position, and followed the steps as they moved. With my movements, I gathered five different types of energy: Earth, Air, Fire, Water, and Spirit. Then my movements weaved the energy into a spell.

  “Random p
ositive outcome?” asked Kitty-Sue.

  “Good luck,” Akiko and I said in unison.

  When I was finished, Koji said, “You’ve never trained as a Ritualist?”

  “No,” I answered simply. That would be like training a sighted person to read Braille.

  “Yet you executed an almost perfect Ritualist spell for good fortune,” he said.

  “Almost?” I asked.

  “You got two steps wrong, and the hand position in the fifth and sixth step were incorrect,” he said.

  “Then you’ve been doing it wrong,” I answered flatly.

  Koji’s face darkened. I had just insulted his training. Kitty-Sue jumped in diplomatically. “Koji-san,” she said, “just as each school of martial arts has its own, hmm, preferences in form and balance, Scott-sensei’s teachings are informed by his background. I suggest you try his method. If it doesn’t work, you can always go back to your original method.” She paused for a moment, then continued, “With the new chart we prepared, the spells, no matter how performed, will have a much higher probability of success.”

  Koji was mollified. It took me a few seconds to parse her words. Had she finally called me Sensei? She never called me that. But her, as a representative of the kitsune queen, calling me “teacher” carried a lot of weight. I saw Koji’s estimation of my talents rise.

  “Koji-san,” I said, “there are still four minutes of optimum flow for the luck spell. Perhaps you should try it out now?”

  As we watched, Koji stepped up to the chart and touched the line that initiated the sequence, then he moved to the glowing footprints and followed the sequence. It took him two minutes to complete, but he handled the motions perfectly. Akiko and I watched as he captured the flows and wove the luck spell.

  Kitty-Sue, who couldn’t see the flows of magic, just looked on as if judging a dance competition. She appeared to approve of his grace and balance. He was breathing deeply when he finished.

  As Koji finished, I almost expected her to hold up a paddle with a “10” inscribed on it.

  “Ask him to test the luck spell,” suggested Akiko.

  “Koji-san,” said Kitty-Sue. “Do you have a way to test this ‘luck’ spell?”

  Koji took a final deep breath, almost as if afraid to test our work. Then he walked over to his desk and pulled out a pair of dice.

  “I haven’t been able to roll consecutive lucky numbers for over a year,” he said.

  He threw the dice on his blotter, holding his breath until the spinning stopped. Two fours showed. I was expecting a seven. Koji snatched the dice up again and threw. A three and a five. Eight again. Another throw. Six and two. He rolled another five times, always coming up with an eight.

  I opened my mouth to apologize that he couldn’t roll a seven. I was stopped by the look of triumph on his face. Wait, he was happy with those results?

  “Oh Koji-san,” said Kitty-Sue, “very lucky! You always throw lucky number eight.”

  I realized that a lucky number for an American wasn’t the same as a lucky number for a Japanese. Eight was lucky, for him, so the random positive factor spell helped him roll eights.

  Koji smiled a genuine smile for the first time since we’d arrived. Walking over to the wall-mounted chart, he pointed to one of the other spells listed. “And this spell?” he asked, trying to hide his eagerness.

  “The one that wards your office against intrusion?” I asked. I reached over and touched the symbol, which turned red. A bubble of psychic quiet surrounded the office. “If you want to practice the forms without danger, you will need to activate this ward. It cuts off magic flows so you can practice safely.” Akiko and I had argued over this ward. Ritualists needed a “safe space” to practice. A ward to cut off magic did that.

  I turned back to Koji. He suddenly looked much older. His hair was almost gone, the few remaining wisps completely white. His form was shrunken and his face full of wrinkles. He had fallen victim to accelerated aging, one of the side effects of the improper use of rejuvenation spells. Done incorrectly, they consumed life force instead of augmenting it. His true condition had been hidden under an illusion. Now with the flows of magic stopped, his illusion of relative youth no longer worked.

  I looked at Kitty-Sue and Akiko. Both seemed unfazed by the change. They probably had never been tricked by Koji’s illusion.

  “No, no,” he said, not noticing any change. “The one below it. The symbols seem to represent youth. Or something like that.”

  “Ah,” I said, “that’s our version of a rejuvenation spell. Go ahead and test it, but it won’t work correctly for another forty-seven minutes. And it won’t work at all as long as the ward is up. Then there will be a twenty-minute window for maximum effectiveness.”

  “But if done incorrectly,” he said, “can’t there be negative consequences?”

  “Oh yeah,” I said. “Screw it up, and you’ll get your life sucked out of you. That’s why I have the ward so you can practice. If you follow the footprints and the timing of the chart, it will always work. Magician’s honor.”

  He touched the link and activated the sequence. Instead of jumping to the steps, he stood to one side and watched the sequence of steps. Ahh, he was studying the pattern, using his excellent Ritualist memory to imagine the correct positioning.

  The rejuvenation sequence took about five minutes to complete. It was much more complicated than the luck spell. As the last footprint faded away, Koji looked disappointed.

  “Ninety-seven steps. I don’t know if I can...” He trailed off. Stepping to the other side of the office, he asked, “Scott-san, can you activate the sequence again?”

  He watched it through to completion from the new angle, committing the steps to memory. As the last step faded, he looked crestfallen. He turned away and noticed his reflection in a mirror placed by the door. He immediately realized that we had all seen through his illusion of middle-aged health.

  “I’m afraid I won’t be able to complete the sequence,” he said. “Some of the moves are beyond my physical abilities.”

  “The sequence isn’t easy,” I said. “But it’s the best way.”

  Akiko realized the problem and the solution. “Tell him the effects are cumulative,” she said.

  “Cumulative?” I asked.

  Looking at me as if at a slow student, she continued. “It’s not necessary to complete the sequence. Each time he completes the first section, a bit of youth will be restored.”

  “Cumulative?” asked Koji. “What do you mean?” Of course, he had not heard Akiko’s explanation.

  “Each time you perform the spell, even if only a few steps,” I said, “a bit of your youth will return. Eventually, you will be restored enough to go further.”

  “With no backlash?” he said in wonder.

  Finally understanding, I said, “When I said ‘screw it up,’ I meant making a wrong move or turn. Just stopping won’t cause any backlash. As long as the sequence is followed correctly, it can be interrupted. A misstep would cause a backlash. It was very difficult to design the spell to have only a positive component. But we did it.” The idea and execution had been almost all Akiko’s work. I was more of an “if you screw up the spell, pay the consequences” type. But she was more forgiving. One day, she would be a much better teacher than me.

  “Are the other spells equally forgiving?” asked Koji.

  Akiko shook her head, and I had to answer. “The other spells can have negative consequences. It was demanding to structure them to avoid that. We worked hard on the rejuvenation spell to avoid that, but it’s the only spell so designed.”

  A few more minutes of instruction and questions answered and Koji started getting nervous. A look at the clock showed that the optimum time for the rejuvenation spell would start in a few minutes.

  “Well, Koji-san,” I said, “we’ll leave you to your first test.”

  He nodded eagerly until I picked up the old map and rolled it up for transport.

  “What are you do
ing?” he asked. “That map is priceless.”

  Priceless, and dangerous. I don’t like leaving dangerous knowledge lying around. “Koji-san. Our agreement was that I would swap this map for my improved version. Now that you’ve seen my version work, I will need to take this map.”

  I could see him running our conversation over in his mind. He would have to agree that I had used the term “swap.”

  He still seemed agitated, so I said, “Koji-san, please try the rejuvenation spell while we go and have dinner. If the effects are everything you wanted, then join us in your bar for a celebratory drink. We can discuss this further later.”

  Dropping the ward, we exited the office, leaving Koji to perform his spells.

  A few minutes later, we were seated at the table in the restaurant, perusing the menu. They stocked my favorite Italian wine. This was going to be a good meal.

  After ordering, Kitty-Sue popped up a privacy bubble. “Boss,” she said, “I’ve got a lot of questions.”

  “About?”

  “About human magic,” she said.

  I poured wine for all of us, even duplicating a glass to Akiko’s plane. I inhaled the aroma before answering.

  “You know there’s a lot about human magic I can’t tell you, right?’

  “Yes,” she said, “I know you have secrets you don’t want to pass on.”

  I shared a glance with Akiko. Kitty-Sue had powerful magical abilities due to her kitsune nature. Shapeshifting, speed, strength, and a significant resistance to human magic. But they worked nothing like my style of magic.

  “Not so much secrets,” I said, “although we do have those. It’s like explaining colors to a blind man.”

  Akiko took a sip of her ghostly wine. “How would you describe to me how to produce the pheromone that attracts men? Is that a secret you can share?”

  “Oh, it’s easy,” said Kitty-Sue. “First you take a sniff… Um, no, that’s not it. You take your, your, tail?” She pursed her lips in thought. “Maybe I can explain better in Japanese,” she said. “There are no English words for the actions.” She rattled off a stream of Japanese to Akiko, none of which I understood.