by Danny Bell
“Neither is Yamata no Orochi or Susano-o in your little world, but this has been a week of learning for you, hasn’t it?” The masked man ignored Claire as he said it, striding into the shop and taking up space in the center of the room. “What I believe to be a far more important aspect of my presence at the moment is that I’m the only person in the world who can give you what you need, and it’s right here for the taking. How exciting!”
Everyone around me was visibly shifting uncomfortably; they were afraid of what they didn’t know. They didn’t know what he was capable of, what he was, and I understood that. And it was starting to piss me off.
“Then leave the dinnerware and take a hike,” I snapped impatiently. “I’m not dealing with you today.”
“Oh, you can have it,” he replied, tossing it to me like a frisbee. The suddenness of it took me off guard for an instant, and I flinched as I caught it. The light caught it for a split second as I grabbed it, and for an instant, stars danced in front of my eyes. “All yours. I got what I needed from it.”
I looked at it for a moment, and what do you know? I guess it is a mirror.
“From what I understand, it can’t be owned,” I said carefully.
“Then it’s yours to use as you will,” he corrected.
I gave him a nod. “Thanks. Now get the hell out of here.”
“I know I’m new here,” Kaida hissed low and impatient near my ear. “But you do not want to anger a Kitsune.”
“Your new friend is correct.” The man stared at me with those brilliant blue eyes from behind his mask. “Don’t you think it would be nice if you showed me just a little more respect?”
“I’d show you a whole hell of a lot more respect if you really were a Kitsune.” My voice was rising by degrees of impatience as I said it. “But that’s not what you are, is it, Abarta?”
He sat unmoving for a tense moment. The others hadn’t caught up, but they would. Outside, thunder cracked overhead in spite of the cloudless sunny sky only moments ago. The form of the masked man shifted, even as the man himself remained still, and Abarta was staring a hole right through me.
“How?” he asked flatly.
I had my reasons; in truth, he gave it away by inches, one small tell after another. I knew something was off when he used the same moves as Chalsarda at the docks. Unmistakable, inhuman movements with a grace that was undeniably fae, but he gave it away when he showed up at the hotel. I could’ve told him this, but it was better if he didn’t know.
“En gee tee,” I replied. He gave me a quizzical look, and I clarified, “Not gonna tell.”
“Indeed.”
“Get out of here,” I addressed the room. “I’ll figure this out.”
“You will all stay right where you are,” he commanded, but it lacked fight, at least to my ears. Still, his presence was enough to make everyone in the room hesitate at the crossroads where my experience and his power crossed.
I saw through him, though, and everything about his posture suggested he was at the breaking point. He stared at me with heavy eyes, something anxious and hurting in his gaze. Any pity I might’ve felt for him evaporated under the heat I felt at the thought of Chalsarda in chains, of Logan dying in the arms of Olivia, and the unknown pains my mother might’ve felt as she suffered his advances.
“Take the hint and let this sink in.” My words were intentionally slow and heavy with emphasis. “You are not wanted here. Get out of my home and forget my name.”
“You will show me some respect,” Abarta said, almost inaudibly. “I am a god.”
“A trickster god,” I sneered.
“No, I am not!” he suddenly roared, standing as tall as he could. “A trickster seeks the destruction of proud men and women, offering no lesson or moral, planting no new seeds to replace the crops they have razed. They reject all responsibility! Does that sound like me?”
No one said a word, no one dared even breathe, and, to my surprise, I realized I was afraid of him.
“Does it?” His shout echoed in the room like a whipcrack.
There was a queasy moment as the thoughts I wanted to make vocal spilled over my mind and blended together, and fighting panic prevented any words.
“You ingrate. You child,” he snarled, making that last word sound like a curse. “So young and certain. I offer you the love and protection I would show one of my own; I consider you my own and you judge me? Me? For withholding knowledge from you? This place stinks of liars and cowards, but you hold a double standard with me? Why?”
“They’re not…” I tried to say, surprised again that I had trouble speaking up.
“Maybe start small with the one who whispers about you, about the doom you will bring,” he said, glancing at Teague, then, turning his attention to Jason, he continued. “Or the pathetic, cowardly historian who hides his romantic intent? Shall I share with the group, or would you like to unburden yourself?”
Jason’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull, and his face flushed crimson. Not sure who he had a crush on, but if that was all Abarta had on him, well, there were worse secrets that could be exposed. Still, it wasn’t the size of the mystery, it was how much Abarta could use it to hurt him.
“Sowing the seeds of dissent, lying by omission?” Abarta asked me. “And you’ll forgive them without question, won’t you? Your persistent potion maker, have you considered the hypocrisy she’s shown by keeping secrets from you? Ann is more like your mother than you realize, and I would know. Her and your elf were so close to reaching out to me, you know, while you weren’t even on the shortlist.”
“You don’t get to talk about her,” I managed with less confidence than I would’ve liked.
“Yes, that would be unfair, wouldn’t it?” Abarta pondered. “After all, Chalsarda is not here to defend herself. I wonder what the little murderer may have to say for herself.”
“I said you don’t get to say her name,” I said with a little more heat in my voice.
“Fine. We can move onto Olivia Moore. Your sister, as you say,” he pointed at Olivia and narrowed his eyes. “From another mother, of course. Where to begin? With the gun, despite knowing how you feel about them? No, probably better to start with where she got it. Summoning Freyja didn’t go as badly as it could’ve, but not as well as you’d hoped either.”
“You what?” I shouted. There it was, found my voice again. Olivia paled and fumbled for words.
“Or perhaps the den mother?” Abarta focused on Claire. “Have you seen her cry, Elana? Because I have. I know why she weeps, the nightmares she has. I know what she thinks of you.”
“That’s enough!” I shouted, furious as I saw Claire go pale, yet still doing her best to stay brave.
“No, it is not!” Abarta snapped. “Not until you admit your hypocrisy and learn your lesson!”
“Hey!” Kaida shouted with unexpected courage. “I don’t know what you’re supposed to be or what you want, but you’re not helping, and she already made it clear you’re not welcome!”
“I know very little about you,” Abarta said with an impatience I’d never heard from him before. “Your father is a greedy fool, you offer nothing to our situation, and I’ll have no reservations in removing you from it if you insist on making your presence known.”
I didn’t know Kaida particularly well—I wouldn’t even call her an acquaintance, let alone a friend. She was here for her father, not me, but all the same, she was standing up for me in the face of the unknown as far as she knew, and I wasn’t going to let anyone be threatened on my behalf.
I stepped in between the two of them and began to shout before I could stop myself. “Not her! Me! Focus!” I made sure I had his attention. “Do you want to get to your point, or do you just want to be a dick?”
“My point is that I have watched over you your whole life, protected you, helped you, loved you, and have I ever asked for so much in return?” Abarta was nearly pleading with me, something in his voice between frustration and loss. “You hol
d my slights against me as if they were acts of war while you so easily forgive those around you who are so very temporary. And now I come to you, offering my aid. I could solve every last one of your problems. Side by side, we could destroy the Orochi, stop the cruel flooding of your city, even gain you favor with your employer. And all I ask in return is—”
“Stop,” I said softly. “Jesus, just…stop.”
Abarta didn’t finish his sentence, and I sat down in one of the reading chairs, placing my face deep in my hands for a moment. “Sit,” I said by way of permission, and he sat across from me, staring apprehensively.
It took me a tense moment to get where I needed to be. I was aware I still had an audience of nearly everyone that mattered to me, and I was trying my best to pretend they weren’t there. “You make me very sad,” I began, though those weren’t the words I had wanted to start with. “I want to hate you for your lack of humanity, but you’re not human, are you? You’re a footnote in a story, probably written by someone who just wanted to write a scapegoat or a punching bag for the people who were more interesting. It’s a bad joke. You were made on paper, but now you’re here, and you’re real, and you have a choice, but you still don’t get it. It’s like you don’t understand anything. What love is, what family is, how to apologize, or even that you should; any of it.”
“Elana—”
“No,” I interrupted low and sharp. “Let me say this. My mother was special to you, and I’m genuinely sorry for the position that put you in. But if you love me as one of your own like you say, then I need you to go against your nature and stay out of my life. No meddling, no more grand gestures, no more four-dimensional chess. For god’s sake, no more deals. No insulting me and my family for our imperfections. Just respect my wishes and stay away. I don’t want to see you, and I don’t need your help with the Orochi. That’s my responsibility, and I’m going to take care of it. I don’t know how I’ll feel in the future, but this is how I feel now. If you understand this and you truly care about making me happy, then nod your head and go.”
Abarta stared at me for a long moment like gears behind his eyes were grinding against each other. As if what he was and what he needed to be wasn’t compatible. Still, it eventually came, that nod. He gave me a nod and slowly walked out the door defeated. Even after he was gone, the tension didn’t leave the room. No one wanted to be the first to speak, so those duties fell to me.
“We don’t have time for accusations or apologies,” I said to the room, still in my chair. “Abarta’s whole deal is making things sound worse than they are, so let’s not focus on any of that right now. The rain’s coming back, which means we’re on the clock. Kaida?”
“Yes?” she asked, just as uneasy as the rest of us.
I stood and faced her, a gallery of my friends gathered behind her, all of them looking at me expectantly. “You wanted to know how I’m going to save your dad? Fine. This is how we’re going to do it.”
* * *
I shivered hard as I turned off the ice-cold shower and stepped out on the concrete floor, covered only by a towel. Better a shower than standing outside in the rain, at least. This was part of it, part of the ritual. I needed to be cleansed before I could move forward, and even if deep down, I didn’t feel ready, I knew this was probably my last, best chance. The shivers weren’t entirely a result of the cold.
Everyone remained, even Kaida, who refused to leave until her father was safe. If I’d had a father, and he was in this situation, I’d have done the same. I had a plan, but it didn’t make any of us feel better about our chances. I was about to do something I had long said loud and proud that I would never do, something so stupid that even I knew it was a bad idea.
I was still open to suggestions.
The cold would get to me if I didn’t towel off sooner rather than later, and I dried off as quickly as I could, considering what I was meant to change into. A pair of plain white sweatpants and matching t-shirt, both with the tags cut away from them. I couldn’t even wear shoes if I’d read everything correctly. Not that I was complaining. The rules to all of this were a lot older than I was, and I was making the choice to follow them.
As I stepped back out into the store, worried eyes went up to look at me. Claire was the first to speak. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” She might not have known the world I walked in, but she knew me.
“I could come with you,” Ann offered, but she knew that she couldn’t. Her tone changed, and she added. “Or maybe we could find another way?”
“Quit freaking her out,” Olivia chided. “She’s doing what she needs to do.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I cautiously agreed. “All of you. I’m not at all ready for this, but we’re out of time. If there’s a better way, I’d love to hear it. Otherwise, Olivia is right.”
“I still don’t entirely understand why,” Kaida said from the back of the shop. “I get what you’re doing, there’s just a lot about the plan that I don’t understand.”
“Welcome to our world,” Teague quipped sourly.
“Plans are overrated,” Jason said in my defense. “It’s much better to do some wild shit that looks cool as hell and pretend it was your plan the whole time when it all works out.”
I gave a snort-laugh despite everything, and Jason smiled in return. Thanks, buddy.
“Okay then, if there’s nothing else.” I clapped my hands together dramatically. “I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”
Teague was fidgeting nervously by the window and, before I could pretend that I hadn’t noticed, she said, “Hey, before you go, I really need to tell you—”
“Nope!” I shook my head. “You’re my friend and I love you, let that be enough. No teary goodbyes, no confessions, nothing like that. I’m coming right back; so, unless what you really need to tell me is that they’ve made Oreo cream filling commercially available by the gallon, let’s not rush into saying stuff we wouldn’t have said otherwise.”
Teague nodded and let it go, and the others helped me prepare. Claire laid out a blanket for me to sit on. Olivia brought me a large knife with a blade nearly the size of my forearm. It was the only thing I was allowed to take with me. Ann brought me a random book without letting me see the cover, opened to a random page. I began to read the words, devoid of context and continued until I found a way in. Something about an attorney who was having an affair with her partner’s junior council. The way revealed itself, only instead of traveling the way I usually had, I held the way in firmly in my mind and created a doorway in the middle of the store of sliding glass, looking out onto a balmy sunny day across a lake, overgrown with reeds and moss. I reaffirmed my grip on the knife and offered one last glance to my friends before I left.
It was time to get my wizard staff.
Chapter Twenty-Five
The golden sun slunk lazily into the horizon behind the idyllic lakeside cabin, lighting up the deep purple and blue clouds spread too thin against the sky like fading bruises, threatening almost to set them on fire. Warm orange and yellow leaves were thick in the trees dotting the landscape, and the inviting smell of chamomile and newspapers tickled my nose just a hair too strong the way a realtor makes a home smell strongly of fresh-baked cookies. The lake rippled ever so gently as a light breeze kicked up, sending stray leaves spinning slowly like miniature merry-go-rounds. A path into another world opened before me casually as if to assure me that no harm, not even bad thoughts, could possibly reach me as I strolled toward that cabin, perfect as it was in every way that a late afternoon in New England during fall could be.
So I turned around and jumped into the lake.
There were rules to what I was doing, and this one of them: get lost. I imagine there are a lot of ways to get lost. I could’ve blindfolded myself and wandered into the central parts of California that no one was ever supposed to visit. I could’ve slowly gotten drunk and listened to Jason ramble on about the Byzantine empire, getting lost in conversation might’ve counted. But the fastest
way I knew to get lost was to stray from the path in the Knowing, and as a bonus, I knew that the storms flooding my town were tied to my being physically in Los Angeles. So, I decided to get lost on another plane of reality. What can I say? I’m a multitasker.
I had to fight the urge to regain my sense of direction and instead closed my eyes and relaxed my focus, allowing my natural ability to travel go on autopilot. Embrace the unknown. Let it happen. It may very well be one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done, but it was effective. As I hit the lake, rather than the expected feeling of being submerged in water, I was propelled through the air as a million voices argued at me over each other. My eyes were slammed shut as I suddenly began to plummet like a stone down a well before I felt something like the world’s most enormous marshmallow envelope me. I couldn’t be shaken, and the feeling of marshmallow began to squirm as the sensation was now something more akin to endless centipedes crawling in every direction of my skin. I took in a deep, calming breath and let it go, and the centipedes exploded into warm light that held me aloft and was visible even through my eyelids. And unfamiliar voices, from somewhere, pounded in my mind like false memories or distant thoughts from passing worlds.
I want to remember living, what it meant to laugh, and—
Those are sirens, Sharon! We can’t stay here, it’s all ending—
I’m sorry I had to do this over voicemail; it’s just, hard, you know? It doesn’t mean—
There has to be a place just for us. I don’t even care where we go. We can run away—
When are you going to get it? I can’t! Never again! You can’t do what your body won’t—
I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner! Everything will change. But with the right—
I floated like that and waited for the next sensation. Then the next one. And the one after that, and on and on it went until at last, I was dropped onto solid ground on my hands and knees, and I opened my eyes.