by Phil Gabriel
“Shopping?” I asked.
“Yes. I need to shop for the costume.”
Thinking her brain was still scrambled from the injuries and healing, I asked, “Why would you need to get a costume?”
“I almost kill you, right?” she asked.
“It didn’t happen that way—” I started.
“All women who try to kill you have to wear French maid costume, yes?”
“What?”
“Cappuccetto Rosso, Ally-cat, now me. We all almost kill you. We all have to wear that costume. I need to buy the costume.” She had been awake, had heard my conversation with Kitty-Sue, and come to her conclusions. Then I remembered that Kitty-Sue, with her inhuman senses, could always tell if someone was asleep or faking.
Daeng shook herself and rose to her feet. A testament to my work, she moved smoothly, as if she weighed nothing. She looked to be in the prime of health. She ran her hands down her flanks, smoothing out her skirt. She frowned, then said, “My clothes seem smaller. I don’t remember my skirt and blouse being this tight.”
Kitty-Sue looked at Daeng’s enhanced figure, then raised an eyebrow. “Upgrades?”
“It’s a matter of balance,” I said. “With the increased mass and size of her pectorals and glutei, I needed to add some extra tissue.”
“Extra tits and ass,” said Kitty-Sue. “How come all of your ‘upgrades’ end up with more tits and ass?”
Daeng was stretching, swinging her arms behind her back. The fabric of her blouse was stretched dangerously close to the ripping point. She’s your student, I thought, and averted my gaze.
“I feel good. No, I feel great,” said Daeng. “Is this what you feel like all the time?”
“Hell, no,” I said. “I feel old and tired, and worn out.”
Kitty-Sue made that tapping on her wrist motion that indicated time was short. “We need to get out of here, and back to Hakone,” she said.
Playtime over, I walked over to my destroyed .45 and picked it up. I looked at it for a long moment, then put it away in my satchel. “There goes my second-best weapon against the ghost samurai,” I said.
“Second best?” asked Kitty-Sue.
“Yes,” I said, “Akiko was our best chance. She could match him trick for trick. The .45 was my second-best chance.”
“That’s why you didn’t use it before?” asked Kitty-Sue. “You were saving it for the samurai?”
I nodded. “I was saving it for that bastard.” I clapped my hands and smiled, putting a good face on the loss of my most potent weapons. “Still, with Princess, you, and John to help, we can give the bastard a good fight.”
“Bad news, boss,” said Kitty-Sue. She looked at the floor and wouldn’t meet my gaze. “John is out. He said your Deal was over now that you have the armor.”
28
Back to Bangkok
I reviewed our agreement. He had pledged to help me recover the armor. He hadn’t pledged to do anything more. He was sticking to the letter of the Deal. I felt a sense of disappointment.
“I can’t believe he would do that,” I said.
“Boss,” said Kitty-Sue in her “explaining to children” tone, “you once screwed his wife to save her life. He made peace with you to save her Victorian ass again. Then you set her up to break their marriage vows. You’re lucky he didn’t pledge to kill you again.”
“So, he just ran away? With a mangled leg? Into a jungle filled with bugs, slugs, and snakes?” I said.
“He said he felt more at home there than in Bangkok,” said Kitty-Sue. “He said he would heal and return after his wife finishes her ‘dalliance.’”
“And Jane made the Deal with Akiko on her own,” I said. “John’s attitudes are very old fashioned. He’s acting like she had no mind of her own.”
Kitty-Sue tilted her head and peered at me through squinted eyes. “Yes,” she said, “it’s amazing how common those old-fashioned attitudes are among magicians.”
Daeng had been gathering the contents of her purse, scattered when she had been attacked. She perched her glasses on her nose and breathed a sigh of relief.
She reached for her knife, a cheap switchblade that had popped open when it hit the floor. Instead of closing it and putting it in her purse, she looked at it like she had never seen it before. Then she balanced the knife vertically on her index finger. She flicked her finger, and the knife spun once in the air, then landed on her middle finger, still balanced perfectly.
The spells that powered the air conditioning were failing, allowing insects to enter the hallway. A fly zipped past and landed on the wall near a spot of green yaksha blood. Daeng glanced at the fly and flicked her wrist in a motion too fast to see, and the blade was quivering in the wall. The two halves of the fly fell to the ground.
“Boss,” said Kitty-Sue, “what all was included in these ‘upgrades’ of yours?”
“Pretty much the whole package,” I said. “Strength, speed, enhanced reflexes.” We watched as Daeng pulled the knife from the wall with her left hand, performed the same balancing act on the fingers of her left hand, then skewered another fly with an offhand toss. “Yeah,” I said. “She’s also a bit ambidextrous.”
“She’s better than you with a knife, said Kitty-Sue.
“She had a lot of natural talent already,” I replied.
Daeng looked at the knife stuck in the wall, started to walk across the hallway to retrieve it, then stopped suddenly. Her arms whipped into a complex pattern of strikes and blocks while her feet moved in patterns her dance teacher never taught her. “I know kung-fu,” she said in amazement.
“Calm down, Neo,” said Kitty-Sue. At Daeng’s puzzled look, Kitty-Sue just shook her head. I hate it when nobody gets my jokes, too.
Turning to me, Kitty-Sue said, “I thought you said to it takes ten thousand hours to master anything.”
“It takes mundanes ten thousand hours,” I said. “It took me ten thousand hours. I can give out my physical skills. Magicians cheat.”
With a reproachful glare at me, she said, “You’re going to get this overconfident kid killed.” Kitty-Sue morphed into her Pam shape. “I’m going to have to teach her a lesson.
“Hey, Daeng,” said Kitty-Sue sharply, “do you think you can take me?”
“In that form?” said Daeng. “I can run circles around you.” She started to move closer to Kitty-Sue in perfect form, faster than most humans, and struck a serpent-quick blow designed to barely miss Kitty-Sue’s nose.
Kitty-Sue’s block was faster than human, and Daeng’s strike stopped like it had hit a brick wall. Kitty-Sue moved inside Daeng’s space, hooked a foot behind her ankle, and dropped them both to the ground. Daeng slapped her arms on the floor, softening her landing. It would have pushed her back to her feet if Kitty-Sue hadn’t landed on top of her. Daeng woofed loudly but struggled against Kitty-Sue.
For one second, Daeng managed to spin so that she was on top of Kitty-Sue, but another spin put Kitty-Sue on top again. Their arms were locked in a cross-wristed grip, legs entwined, neither able to move. A few humps and then they were still, face-to-face, straining but not moving.
Daeng looked angry, then resigned. “OK,” she said, “you’re still a better fighter.”
Kitty-Sue smiled, then looked confused for a second. Her face closed the distance to Daeng’s, and they were nose-to-nose, gazing into each other’s eyes. Kitty-Sue said, “Sploosh.”
Daeng was breathing hard, her breath puffing out Kitty-Sue’s hair. “What does this ‘sploosh’ mean?” she asked.
“It means Pam’s bisexual,” muttered Kitty-Sue. She released her grip and stood quickly. She reached down and gave Daeng a hand up. She seemed reluctant to let go of Daeng’s hand, but finally let go.
“That was to teach you that even if Scott gave you all of his skills, there are still a lot of better fighters out there.”
Daeng looked at her knife, still stuck in the wall. “Maybe if I used my knife...”
“Oh, honey,” laughe
d Kitty-Sue, “if I ever come at you with a blade in my hand, you had better run away.”
Daeng went to the wall and pulled her knife out. She had a pensive look, then proved her intelligence by folding the blade and putting it away. With a deep wai to Kitty-Sue, she said, “Thank you for the lesson, Ajarn-Kitty-Sue. I will be careful in the future.’
Kitty-Sue returned the wai with a Japanese bow. “You would make a good student,” she said.
Daeng finished gathering her dropped items, retrieving her lipstick and a compact. Then she picked up her iPhone and looked at the display.
“Ajarn-Scott,” she said, “is this the correct time?”
I looked at the display; the time seemed right, 7:00 a.m. Then I noticed the date, a full three days after we had entered the house.
“Crap!” I said. “We have to go right away. We lost three days in this damned time-warped funhouse.” I grabbed both of their hands and headed out the door.
The mystical guardian dogs were still nowhere to be seen. Maybe my shot had scared them off permanently.
Without the hiding spells, the exit from the glade that held the house was now visible. The road looked abandoned. We were a long way from town.
I looked around and spotted the phi-baan house. “I need a translator,” I said. “Could you ladies come with me?”
As we approached the phi-baan house, I reached into my satchel and pulled out a fresh bottle of Johnnie Walker.
The empty glass was still sitting on the pedestal. I could feel activity inside the house, and the feel of tiny angry eyes was burning pinpricks into my skin.
“Sawatdee-khrap,” I said. The angry gazes started to burn even more. Then I cracked the cap on the bottle, and the aroma of Johnnie Walker wafted out. The invisible pinpricks of their pissed-off gazes faded.
“Pe-Daeng,” I said, “please let the spirits know that I really need to get back to the airport. I would appreciate their assistance getting transportation.”
The high-pitched voices chattered away for a few minutes. Daeng shook her head. “Ajarn-Scott, they don’t want to help you. You caused a lot of trouble here.”
I poured a finger of scotch into the tumbler. “Tell them I apologize for the disturbance. If I can’t get transportation back to the Chiang Mai airport, I’ll have to sit here and finish off this bottle of whiskey by myself.”
I took a big sip of Johnnie Walker, fighting down a grimace. I had never liked drinking on an empty stomach. I set the tumbler back on the pedestal and waited. Between one blink and the next, the level of whiskey in the glass lowered.
“However,” I continued, “if I can get out of here right away, I’ll have to leave this almost full bottle of whiskey because they’ll never let me take it through the airport.”
As Daeng translated, the buzzing voices increased in volume, sounding like an argument.
An argument that ended as a taxi pulled up to the driveway.
“Kapoom-khrap,” I said, setting the bottle next to the glass. I started to turn away, then stopped at an irritating buzzing. “Sorry,” I said as I turned back and unscrewed the cap to the bottle.
Moments later, we were in the back of the cab; the befuddled driver seemed happy to drive us to the airport.
As I leaned back in the seat to take a well-deserved nap, Kitty-Sue said, “Couldn’t you have just called a cab? Why all the song and dance with the whiskey? Did you just need a morning shot?”
“No,” I said, “it’s a bad idea to leave pissed off phi-baan spirits behind. They can cause all manner of misfortune and can hold a grudge. This way, they get rewarded for helping, and won’t be holding a grudge.”
“You seem to go to a lot of trouble trying to turn enemies into friends,” said Kitty-Sue. “You even tried to make peace with the yaksha.”
Keeping my eyes closed, I said, “I seem to remember a killer kitsune who trapped me in a giant spider web.” I put my hand on her ample thigh and stroked. “Befriending her was one of the best decisions I ever made.”
I scooted back and laid my head on her Pam-padded shoulder. “I need to sleep now. It’s been several nights, and I can’t afford to doze off on the plane.”
“It’s OK, boss,” said Kitty-Sue, “you take a nap. I’ll watch over you.”
I heard a whisper from Daeng, “Is he afraid to sleep on airplanes? Why?”
“Because magician’s dreams can make an airplane crash,” responded Kitty-Sue. Their conversation continued, but I was out.
A few hours later, we were at the Chiang Mai airport, waiting for the Thai Airways flight to Bangkok.
In the waiting room, I showed Daeng the basics of control that would allow her to work around electronics without disturbing them. It proved to be difficult for her.
“This meditation is hard,” she said. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
“It’s OK,” I said, “I’ll ensure that we don’t disturb the aircraft on this flight. You’ll have to avoid air travel until you can control your impulses.”
She pulled out the iPhone I had gifted her. “Why doesn’t our magic affect these?”
“I put special protective spells on the case to prevent interference,” I said.
Once back in Bangkok, we checked back into our hotel. Kitty-Sue made reservations for our return flight to Tokyo for the following afternoon.
Early the next morning, we traveled to the new offices I had rented for my Bangkok project. A project which consisted of an untrained magician, her preteen student, and an ex-werewolf who hated my guts.
I was sitting in the boss’s chair, flanked by Daeng on my right and Kitty-Sue in her Pam form on my left, when Ally-cat walked in carrying a Starbuck’s cup in her left hand. Her right hand was clumsily wrapped in an elastic bandage; it was swollen to twice its normal size.
“Damn door’s unlocked,” she muttered as she entered. “I’m sure I locked it last night.”
“It was locked, Ally-cat,” I said. “You can’t lock out the boss.”
The shock of seeing us caused her to fumble the Starbuck’s cup. She tried to grab the cup with her right hand and dropped it to the ground.
Ally-cat looked around as if someone were going to rush in and clean up her mess. The bitter look on her face was satisfying.
“Ally-cat,” I said, “clean that mess up before I introduce you to your new boss.”
Such a delightful look of hate. Ally opened her mouth to scream, saw the look on my face, and clamped her mouth shut. She set her purse on the desk, then scurried into the small bathroom and came out with a handful of paper towels to clean up her mess.
After disposing of the paper towels, Ally came back out and stood in front of my desk. A slight tremble in her knees showed her nervousness. Without her pack or werewolf abilities, she was a normal human female.
I looked at the clock, which showed 8:30 a.m. “Starting time is 9:00 a.m.,” I said. “Your orders are to wear your uniform during business hours. Why are you still not dressed in your uniform?”
“What?’ she spluttered. “First, I still have 30 minutes. Next, you can’t be serious! I’m have no intention of parading around here in a costume like a hooker in a cheap bar—”
Her voice stopped abruptly as she saw the softball-sized globe of flame that appeared in my palm, the bright blue flames casting shadows on the walls. Her eyes were drawn to the flames. She didn’t even notice the far more dangerous flicker in Daeng’s eyes. Shouldn’t have mentioned hookers.
“Either in costume or naked,” I said.
“I don’t even have a costume...” Her voice trailed off as the flames grew brighter.
Ignoring Ally, I turned to Daeng. “Do you see the pattern in the flames?” At her nod, I continued, “Can you make the same spell?”
In a few seconds, Daeng had a small ball of blue flames in her hand.
“Now this spell will burn away any nonliving item that it is cast upon,” I said. At Daeng’s puzzled glance, I continued, “For example, suppose your employee shows
up to work in inappropriate attire and refuses the chance to correct her mode of dress. This spell will burn off the inappropriate clothing, leaving only hair and flesh behind.”
I tossed my softball of flame at Ally. She tried to dodge, but the ball curved and followed her until it set on her head. The flames slid down her form in a hoop, burning away all of Ally’s clothes and her elastic bandage. A tiny tornado of air carried away the smoke.
“That was a three-thousand-dollar suit!” she exclaimed.
“It was three thousand dollars of inappropriate office attire,” I said blandly.
I turned back to Daeng, ignoring the naked, sputtering Ally. “Now your spell is a bit different,” I said. “It looks like it would also burn off all of her hair, as well as her clothes. Is that what you wanted to do?”
At Daeng’s nod, I said, “That would hurt worse than a full body Brazilian wax and leave her looking like a Mexican Hairless.” Then I gave Daeng a big smile. “It’s beautiful!”
Taking a closer look at Ally, I saw her legs were peppered with stubble. I tilted my head and looked at her. “Ally-cat,” I said, “the last time I saw you naked, you preferred the smooth look. Hairy legs might interfere with your mandatory silk stocking look.”
Ally pressed her lips together in anger before answering. “I prefer the ‘smooth’ look. But I can’t control my body hair anymore, and I can’t shave with a broken hand.”
Ally tried to get Daeng on her side. She looked imploringly at her new boss and said, “Don’t you agree that wearing that ridiculous French maid costume is degrading?”
The twenty-year-old ex-hooker looked around the plush office, her plush office, located in one of the most exclusive office buildings in Bangkok. Her face hardened, and ball of flame in her hand brightened. “That costume is a big step up from the outfit I used to wear.”
Daeng casually tossed the ball of spelled flame at Ally. Ally jumped slightly, but already knew it was futile to run. Instead of starting at her head, the flames circled Ally’s waist like a hula-hoop, then rolled down, removing all hair from her lower body. Ally yelped as the flames burned away her hair.