by Phil Gabriel
The globe of silence enveloped me, blocking out all of the psychic flotsam and jetsam that a huge city like Tokyo produces.
Why choose to live and work in a city so noisy? Life begets magic, and magic begets life. All of our largest, most populous cities are also founts of magical power. Although noisy and maddening, cities are where the power is. The only thing to compare to cities are areas of intense volcanism.
Sitting in a cross-legged position, I chased away all thoughts and ruminations on the nature of magic and worries, concentrating on breathing and the flow of energy. The glyphs arranged around my circle were specially designed to allow mystical energy to enter, but not exit. One per each point of the pentagram: Earth, Water, Air, Fire, and Spirit. I had named the glyphs Maxwell’s Demons, after an old joke about a physicist.
The five flavors of magic flowed in, replenishing reserves used in my lessons with Akiko. Once calmness reigned and my reserves were full, I began the exercises.
I shifted to a prone position, hands flat on the floor, touching two of the pentagram’s points, head touching the Spirit point, feet touching the remaining two points. The spread legged push-up position was hard, but the advantage of absorbing energy from all five points made up for the clumsiness.
Pushing with all my might, I lifted my nose from the floor several inches before my arms gave out. Progress! My first real push-up since the battle with Jorōgumo. I continued with the exercises, pushing higher each time, with a short rest break between each push-up. After an hour, I had completed twenty-five push-ups, the final one at complete extension.
I spent another hour meditating and directing energy towards rebuilding muscles and rejuvenation.
I sometimes wondered why it was so much harder to use magic on myself. Where I could use my abilities to heal and rejuvenate others using a minimal amount of effort, the same changes on myself took an inordinate amount of time and energy.
It must be like a psychiatrist trying to psychoanalyze herself. Being too close to something creates a blindness, making the job much harder. Useless to pursue such thoughts—if it took exercise to come back, I would exercise.
Wandering thoughts; I couldn’t keep up the concentration for proper meditation. Looking at the clock, I saw I had been at it for more than an hour. Time to move on to other projects.
I tried once again to will Air to blow out the candles. I finally succeeded on the first candle but had to admit defeat on the remaining four. Still, it was progress. I quickly blew out the remaining candles.
Breaking the circle allowed the noise and energy of the city to wash in. Inhaling deeply, I smelled the scent of millions of people, an uncounted number of automobiles, and a heady mixture of cuisines from dozens of countries.
Five
Continuing Recovery
As dawn broke, shafts of light peeked through the gap in my curtains, lighting up the bedroom. I felt Kitty-Sue’s four feet pad over my stomach and the tiny push as she leaped to the carpeted floor. Through half-closed eyelids, I saw her fox form shimmer with kitsune magic, and she morphed into her almost human shape.
She caught me looking at her and, pretending not to notice my attention, bent over to touch her toes. This pose presented her loveliest assets to my attention: a firm butt enhanced by the presence of her furry tail. She turned around and stretched her arms high, bending backward in a catlike stretch. Then she leaned forward, arms pressed together to emphasize her breasts and said, “Good morning. What would you like for breakfast?”
What a loaded question. Thoughts of canceling the spell that prevented her from joining me in bed danced through my head. Then reality raised its ugly head. I was old, wrinkled, toothless, and unable to perform. I had a lot of recovering to do before taking her up on her offer. So I just responded with, “Good morning, Kitty-Sue. I really like the omelets you make. How about that and bacon?”
She wrinkled her nose at my rejection but smiled and nodded. As she turned around to head towards the kitchen, her pheromone-laden furry tail “accidentally” tickled my nose.
That woke me up completely. Better than a cold shower. I rolled out of bed and made my way to the toilet. It wasn’t until after I had cleaned up and was heading to the kitchen that I realized that my rising from the bed had engendered no arthritic back pain. The improvements were slow, but they were coming along.
Stepping into the kitchen, I was once again greeted by the sight of the industrious Kitty-Sue in her short yukata.
The scent of frying bacon, fresh coffee, and the cooking tamagoyaki omelet filled the air. Kitty-Sue hummed as she moved between the coffee maker, stove, and table. She used the extra-long bamboo chopsticks for cooking the egg layers for the omelet in a tamagoyaki pan. It was like watching an artist work as she deftly rolled up the omelet using only chopsticks. Looking down at my still arthritic knuckles, I knew it would be several more days before I could manage chopsticks for eating. Oh well, I grew up with a knife and fork, I could keep on using them a little longer.
While she prepared breakfast, I went online and selected some up-tempo music to accompany our meal. As the beat of Rhianna’s “This is What You Came For” started, Kitty-Sue danced along with the music, never missing a beat as she completed cooking and placing the plates on the table. She left a place for Akiko at the table.
I raised an eyebrow as Kitty-Sue set a mundane cup of coffee at Akiko’s spot. Usually, I used magic to duplicate my coffee to Akiko’s ghostly plane.
“What?” asked Kitty-Sue as she set the cup down. “Akiko-san likes her coffee with more cream and sugar than you. A girl deserves to have it the way she likes it.”
Before I could respond, Kitty-Sue turned her pointed nose towards the empty spot at the table as Akiko phased into visibility. “Ohayo, Akiko-san,” said Kitty-Sue. “Please join us for breakfast. I made your coffee the way you like it.”
“Ohayo, Scott-Sensei. Ohayo, Kitty-Sue,” responded Akiko. “Thank you for the coffee.” Akiko deftly performed the spell that duplicated the coffee to her ghostly plane. As we all sat, Akiko picked up her cup and inhaled deeply. Kitty-Sue watched closely as Akiko took her first sip.
I took a suspicious sniff of my coffee. Kitty-Sue’s mischievous nature might lead her to put salt or laxatives in the coffee as a joke. The coffee smelled perfect; I detected the scent of roasted coffee beans, the sweetness of precisely one-half teaspoon of sugar, and the mellow overtones of fresh cream. No tricks here. I took a large swallow of the great coffee.
And apparently, no tricks for Akiko’s coffee, either. Akiko thoroughly enjoyed her first sip of coffee, smiling as the ghost of the caffeine hit her system.
I exhaled in relief. They must have come to some kind of peace. Kitsune love practical jokes, but the payback from a magician of Akiko’s caliber could be extreme. I had seen her working on a Gordian knot spell earlier—a spell which coincidently could be applied to the tail of a bothersome kitsune. When I remarked that the Möbius element would make the knot impossible to unravel, either through magic or mundane means, Akiko just smiled and said, “Scott-Sensei, the knot can still be cut. Cut knot also cut line.”
It took me a couple of seconds to puzzle out. Kitsune are graded by the number of tails they have, the highest grade being the nine-tailed version. This spell would require the subject to either walk around with a knotted tail, with much loss of honor, or to cut the knot and the tail off, resulting in a loss of grade.
Who says pacifists can’t strike back?
However, the apparent peace now held, and it looked like the Gordian knot spell would not be needed.
We proceeded to enjoy breakfast, the girls using chopsticks and me sticking with knife and fork. After a few minutes, Kitty-Sue asked me a question. “Scott-san, why are you chewing funny?”
Damn, she was observant. “I removed the last of my teeth last night. I plan on installing my new dentures today.”
“Can’t you grow real teeth?” she asked.
“Yeah,” I said, reaching f
or another portion of omelet. “But that would take either a long time or a lot of magic. I need to be able to chew real food.”
“You fix your teeth,” she said, reaching across the table to stroke my beard, “and I’ll shave that white beard.”
“Deal,” I said. “I’ll even get a haircut.” I had left the beard to hide my sunken cheeks. The observant Kitty-Sue knew that was why I had delayed shaving. The straggly white hair that covered my head was just because I had been spending all my time on recovery and building new magical items.
“In fact,” I said, “we should celebrate. Would you ladies like to go out to the Outback Steakhouse? You know, the one in Roppongi? I miss steak, and this would be a chance to celebrate.”
Akiko brightened up and nodded immediately. She had been working nonstop on her studies, and today could be dedicated to fun. Kitty-Sue noted Akiko’s enthusiasm and nodded. “OK,” she said. “I’ll make reservations for tonight.”
“Great,” I said, finishing the coffee and standing. “We’re going to have a great time.”
Excusing myself, I went to my workroom, anxious to complete the new teeth. I was soon followed by Akiko. Taking on my lecturer mode, I showed her my teeth, the implants that needed to be inserted in my jaws, and the screws that would be used to hold them in place. No denture cream for me.
Examining them closely, Akiko said, “No metal, no gold, no magic. Carbon crystal? Why you not use magic to hold them in place?”
“Well,” I said, holding up my dentures, “using metals, even gold, could warp the flows of energy through my body. These will be completely non-magnetic. No magic to hold them in place because I don’t want to have to worry about losing my teeth if I pass through a spot with no magical energy.”
“What places no have magical energy?” asked Akiko.
“Churches, prisons, madhouses,” I replied, “Any place where minimally talented people pray for a positive outcome. Magic calls to magic; any spot where the magic is immediately consumed becomes a low magic area. The magic flows then start to warp around the area, leading to even less magic.”
“Look very sharp,” said Akiko.
“Not really,” I said, popping them into my mouth for a test fitting. I ran my tongue across the incisors, tasted blood, and removed the teeth. “Well, maybe a bit too sharp.”
I added a layer of crystal to the teeth to make them blunter. The razor-sharp edge would not come out unless I bit down hard, chipping away the covering. Who needs razor-sharp teeth? Who needs an extra, hidden weapon? A magician who has a lot of enemies, that’s who. Better to have them and not need them, than to need them and not have them.
I fixed the teeth, set them in place, and turned to Akiko to get her impression.
Akiko floated closer, much closer, and examined my new teeth with interest. Her ghostly hands stroked my cheeks and then reached through my flesh to probe inside my mouth. The tingle of her touch was quite pleasant, and I resisted the urge to reach out to her. Her examination concluded, she floated back a few inches and said, “Breathe out.” Scents carry over between our planes, a mystery I’ve never been able to clear up.
Unable to resist, I quoted Dr. Who before breathing out. “‘I give you...air from my lungs.’”
She inhaled deeply and frowned in thought. “Smells good, no sign of infection.” Then she surprised me by responding to my quote. “‘How...intimate.’” Obviously, my Netflix subscription was being put to good use.
We smiled at each other for a few seconds. I almost reached for her, as a spell to make her temporarily solid flashed through my mind, but stopped with my hands half raised. She was my student and bound by a geas. I refused to take that step as long as her will wasn’t her own. I smiled and shook my head. “Thank you for your help, Akiko-san.”
The moment passed, and we continued with her lessons.
“I like your new teeth,” said Kitty-Sue as she lathered up my face and took the first stroke with the razor-sharp blade she had produced from somewhere. “But don’t you think it would have been better to regrow your real teeth?”
We were in the shower room again, getting ready for our night out. I was sitting on the low stool with Kitty-Sue at my back. My body was returning to normal. The potbelly was gone, muscles were filling out, and my skin had become taut again. Watching Kitty-Sue work at cleaning my hair had brought on a semi-erection, and I entertained erotic thoughts.
I tilted my head back against her warm breasts to expose my neck as she continued shaving me. “I’m not a shifter, it would take a lot of magical energy. If you want me to take back the collar and use that--” I stopped speaking as I felt a wave of coldness from Kitty-Sue. I was acutely aware of the press of her razor-sharp blade against my throat and the feel of claws on my shoulder. I didn’t even know that she could make claws.
In the mirror, I saw the glow of kitsune magic and feral anger in her eyes. “Let’s never talk about taking back my collar,” she whispered in a voice that sent shivers down my spine. Bye-bye erection.
“Don’t worry, Kitty-Sue,” I said in the voice one would use to calm a rabid dog, “I would never take back a gift. You can wear the collar as long as we are together.”
Her face, which had calmed somewhat at my soft words, hardened again when I said “as long as we are together.”
“What’s that mean?” she asked abruptly, eyes glowing again. The knife had not moved one iota. I felt the pulse of my jugular vein against the razor’s edge.
“If I die,” I continued in my calmest voice, “the djinn that gave me the collar will come to reclaim it. That was the Deal I made.” No sense in telling her of the other bargains I had made.
“I can fight a girl in haram pants,” hissed Kitty-Sue.
“You would never even see her,” I said. “The collar would just disappear.”
She frowned in deep thought, then smiled. “So, it’s mine until you die?”
“Yes.” Or until you die, I silently added.
“‘Til death do us part,’” she quoted. “I like that.” The glow left her eyes, the claws retracted, the chill of her anger turned to warmth, and she snuggled up closer to me. She proceeded to finish my shave, and then scrubbed every inch of my body. Normally, the sight of a naked female on her knees before me would have caused an instant erection. Now, with the thought of her throat slashing attempt, I couldn’t work up the courage. Why was I always thrown together with dangerous women?
Freshly shaved, showered, and dried, I took a look in the mirror. The new teeth filled out my once-sunken jaws, and the rejuvenation had smoothed out my skin. I now looked like a thirty-five- to forty-year-old.
Except for the hair. The hair was still a mess, long and unkempt, reaching my shoulder on the right side, but barely covering my ear on the left side. The hair on the left had been burned off by the electrical burst I had used to fight off Jorōgumo. The newly grown roots were dark brown, while the ends were the white of old age, a sure sign of rejuvenation.
“Kitty-Sue,” I said as she exited the shower room with a towel wrapped around herself, “I think I need to go to QB and get a haircut. Do we have enough time?”
“No problem,” said Kitty-Sue. “I will take you and make sure you get a good haircut.”
QB is a chain of haircut outlets in many locations in Japan. It is an assembly line for haircuts. You go in, put 1080 yen in a ticket machine, get the ticket, then wait in line for the next available barber. It usually takes no more than ten minutes for a haircut.
“You know you can’t wait for me inside,” I said. “It’s customers only.”
She gave me a look that said she knew more about her culture than I did, so I shut up and finished dressing.
On the way out, I grabbed Princess Blade, who was in the form of a cane. She hummed at my touch, and the handle warmed in my grip. She had been neglected lately and deserved an outing.
“You don’t need a cane,” said Kitty-Sue. “You look young and healthy.”
Princess B
lade morphed into the shape of an umbrella, negating Kitty-Sue’s complaint. Kitty-Sue always stayed on the side opposite to where I carried Princess.
Exiting the building, I realized that this was the first time I had gone outside in over a month. It was a fine spring day, and the cherry blossoms would soon be blooming.
A few short blocks and we came to the QB salon.
“Irasshaimase,” the employees greeted us in unison.
There were four barbers, two with empty chairs, and no one else in line. As I pumped money into the ticket machine, Kitty-Sue spoke with the barbers in rapid-fire Japanese, detailing how my hair was to be cut. Usually, I pointed to my ears and sideburns and put my fingers an inch apart to indicate how much to cut.
Knowing Kitty-Sue’s mischievous nature, I could end up with a reverse Mohawk. But if the haircut didn’t turn out right, I had a set of clippers in the apartment that could make me smooth-headed.
I handed my ticket to the chosen barber, a woman with exceptionally long hair, put Princess in the tiny closet used to hold customer’s belongings, and took my seat.
The barber scanned the ticket, which started a timer, and put a paper collar around my neck, followed by an apron. Using scissors, she clipped away at both sides, making them even. I was expecting a very short cut to eliminate the white sections of hair, but she kept it long enough to touch my ears. In the end, I looked like I had frosted my hair. At first glance, not my favorite look, but it grew on me.
Within the promised ten minutes, I had finished my haircut, been brushed off, picked up my magic sword, and then headed out the door. I waited outside for a few minutes, pretending to study my iPhone until I saw the barber sweep all my clippings into a vacuum powered collector on the floor. Mixed with many other people’s hairs, it would be impossible for a witch to extract enough for a spell. I’m not paranoid, just careful.
