Reaping Wind

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  I saw the runes on Peaches’ flanks turn golden as he gave off a low growl.

 

 

 

 

 

 

  The runes on his sides pulsed gold for a few more seconds, then faded back to normal.

  “We were not the ones responsible for the destruction in New York City,” Monty said. “You have been misinformed.”

  “We were informed that you had gone dark,” Fumiko answered. “There is evidence to suggest you’ve used blood magic and allied yourselves with Hades, as well as Cerberus, his hellhound”—she glanced at Peaches—“another monster.”

  “What evidence?” Monty asked in a clipped voice. I could tell he was getting upset. “I don’t recall seeing you there.”

  “Hades entrusted his weapon, a bident, to you. Why would he do that?”

  “To stop Tartarboy,” I snapped. “Who, by the way, was going to destroy everything. Are you not listening?”

  “And you felt the best way to prevent this was to obliterate lower Manhattan?”

  “What did you do to Peaches?” I asked, suddenly angry that she wasn’t even making an attempt to understand our explanation. “You did something to him.”

  “I took precautions,” Fumiko answered.“I’m not going to let you or your monster destroy my city, like you did yours.”

  “That was the DCE,” I said, letting my senses expand. “We were trying to prevent Tartarsauce from destroying everything.”

  “And in the process, nearly started a war?” Fumiko asked. “You have an interesting way of saving your city.”

  “You had to be there,” I said, realizing Monty was gathering energy. “If we hadn’t stopped Tartarsauce—”

  “By using the Dark Council as your personal army.”

  “The city would be dust right now,” I finished. “Then they try and blame the damage on us?”

  “I see,” Fumiko said with a nod. “And I’m certain the Penumbra Consortium was mistaken when they detailed the amount of damage your visit incurred on the city of London?”

  “There were…extenuating circumstances,” I said, glancing at Monty. “If the Consortium—”

  “Starting with the destruction of the TATE Modern, which I am informed was caused by that creature?” Fumiko interrupted. “It appears that everywhere you go, chaos and destruction follow you.”

  “Seems like the Dark Council informed everyone,” I said. “Did they explain the circumstances?”

  “Every global branch of the Dark Council has been informed of the Trio of Terror,” Fumiko answered. “Your reputation precedes you.”

  “Trio of Terror?” I looked at Monty. “Maybe we should go on tour?”

  Monty gave me a ‘don’t antagonize the angry lady’ look, and shook his head slightly.

  “You have been misinformed,” Monty said. “There are factions within the Council that would benefit from our removal.”

  “Are you saying the reports of your destruction are false?”

  “No,” Monty answered. “But the context of the destruction has been manipulated. The context is decisive.”

  “Just to be clear,” I said, “the TATE deserved and needed remodeling. Have you seen that building? Hideous doesn’t begin to describe it.”

  Monty was spooling energy into his body, which meant things were going to get mage conversational in the next few moments. I made sure my mala bead was clear of my sleeve.

  “Is that your justification?” Fumiko asked, uncrossing her arms. “The building was ugly?”

  “Well, that, and the Consortium started their conversation pretty much the same way you did…only with less manners and more blasting.”

  I sensed the energy around her increase. Shit, things were slowly spiraling out of control.

  “It could be that you and your creature threatened their lives, and they felt they needed to take action,” Fumiko answered. “Demons are not pets.”

  “So much for diplomacy,” I muttered under my breath. “You’re not really listening.”

  “You three are a threat to my country, region, and person. If you will not surrender, we are authorized to apprehend you by force. I will ask you one last time. Will you surrender?”

  “How about we discuss this over a spot of tea?” I asked. “Isn’t that one of the accepted ways to iron out differences here in the land of the rising sun?”

  Both Monty and Fumiko turned to stare at me.

  The look of utter surprise on his face was priceless. Fumiko, on the other hand, probably felt I was being ‘cheeky,’ to quote Monty. If she knew how I felt about tea, she would know I was pushing my diplomacy skills to their limit.

  Fumiko narrowed her eyes at us, said something in rapid Japanese, bowed, and stepped back.

  “Discuss this over a spot of tea?” Monty said, backing up. “She threatens to apprehend us and you suggest tea?”

  “You said let’s try diplomacy. What did she say?”

  “I said diplomacy, not insanity. What makes you think she would sit down for ‘a spot of tea’?”

  “Just trying to be the adult in the park here,” I said. “I didn’t call her a creature or insult her. Trust me, the opportunities were there. I showed an enormous amount of restraint.”

  “Trio of Terror was a bit much,” Monty said. “It’s not like we deliberately go around destroying property. The damage is taken completely out of context.”

  I stared at him for a second.

  “So, that last part…What did she say?”

  “She regrets that she will have to eliminate us…or something like that,” Monty answered, keeping his eyes on the group in front of us. “Some of it doesn’t translate directly, but that is the general gist.”

  “What are they waiting for?” I asked when I saw Fumiko return to the semicircle of swords. “Are we supposed to attack first? Is that the polite thing to do?”

  “Are you suffering effects from the circle?” Monty asked, and started gesturing. “If a battle mage, an allegedly immortal being, and his hellhound appear in your region…what would you do?”

  “You mean besides run in the other direction?”

  “Pretend that’s not an option, and you’re part of an organization that is currently in pursuit of said ‘Trio of Terror.’ What would be your next move?”

  “The smart play would call for backup,” I said. “Keep them busy until an overwhelming force of help arrived, and then…Shit.”

  “Yes,” Monty said with a nod. “Say one thing, but make sure it has layers of meaning. That is the usual Japanese conversational style.”

  “She’s been stalling this whole time?”

  “Three faces—remember the culture.”

  “One you show everyone, one you show those closest to you, and one you keep hidden,” I answered. “Everything is layered here. I forgot how much I enjoyed talking in circles.”

  “Assessing and determining our level of strength. Her statements were designed to determine our weak points, if any.”

  “She stepped back because she realized taking us on with her group would be a loss.”

  “Or at least more of a loss than she was prepared to suffer.”

  “Are we going to politely allow ourselves to get blasted then?” I asked, as the sun crept over the horizon and illuminated the park fully. “What are we waiting for?”

  “I was waiting for that,” Monty said, as the sun blazed down upon us. “I needed more light for this.”

  Monty gestured and clapped his hands together. A white burst of energy shot out from his palms, momentarily blinding me.

  “What the hell was that?” I asked, rubbing my eyes. “You’re taking magical selfies now?”

  “We need to go,” Monty said. “Get ready.”


  “What about—” I started, and stopped when my vision cleared. “What are those?”

  All around us, versions of Monty, Peaches and me were moving or entering attack stances. In some of them, Monty was casting runes into the air. In others, Peaches was stalking forward slowly, crawling on his belly in ‘predatory pounce’ mode. The images were spaced out pretty far from one another.

  Fumiko and her group had closed ranks and were keeping their distance.

  “Those are simulacra,” Monty explained. “They are caused by manipulating light from the visible spectrum into images.”

  “Can they actually do anything besides freak out Fumiko and her crew?”

  “No, it’s a distraction to facilitate our exit,” Monty answered as he gestured again. A green circle appeared beneath us. Half a second later, green circles appeared beneath all of our copies. “Hard light simulacra take more time and energy. We need to make haste before reinforcements arrive.”

  “You’re stronger than her, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, but she’s no pushover. Her disruption wave targeted your creature,” Monty said, glancing at my hellhound. “I just don’t know how.”

  “We could just ask her nicely,” I said, glaring at Fumiko. “Maybe use a few orbs of percussive persuasion?”

  “Attacking and taking down a regional director of the Dark Council won’t make us any friends, here or back home,” Monty replied. “Let’s subdue the enemy without fighting. I know someone who can look at him and hopefully tell us what she cast.”

  “The greatest victory is that which requires no battle,” I answered with an appraising nod. “Fine. Let’s go. Looks like the Dark Council is still upset with you.”

  “With me?” Monty said. “She did say Trio of Terror.”

  “It should be Duo of Devastation,” I said, glancing at Peaches. “Can you find us somewhere safe?”

  “Relatively, yes,” Monty answered. “But it will have to be a short stay.”

  “Is this going to hurt?”

  “Not much, I think.”

  I prepared for the agony, and gave him a nod.

  Monty knelt and touched the teleportation circle. I felt my stomach seize as the park vanished.

  NINE

  When I could see clearly again, we were standing in the open courtyard of a large home. A gentle breeze caressed my face as I stood still, awaiting the inevitable agony. An almost palpable silence embraced the property, creating a sense of serenity.

  It was interrupted every few seconds by the sound of running water and the methodic clunk of a shishi-odoshi, a pivoting bamboo tube that filled with water and struck a stone in a steady rhythm. The water feature was situated off to one corner of the property.

  The courtyard was enclosed by high walls on all sides. In the corners, I saw several sakura—cherry trees in full bloom. In the center of the courtyard was a small pond, to the rear of the pond, off to the side, I saw a zen garden. Most of the courtyard was hidden from view beyond the walls by large black pine trees along the perimeter.

  The house itself resembled a smaller version of Osaka castle. Whoever lived here valued their privacy. Along the walls of the courtyard, I could sense the runes; they were a subtle deterrent to approaching the property. On each door, I noticed the large golden circles embedded into the wood. Each door thrummed with a strong energy signature.

  “The runes in these walls,” I said. “Is it like a polite ‘keep out or you get fried’ sort of thing?”

  “You can sense the runes?” Monty asked, looking at me. “Fascinating.”

  “Don’t go Vulcan on me. What do they mean?”

  “You shouldn’t be able to sense these runes. They are ancient and embedded into the stone. They are designed to be undetectable.”

  “Someone did a poor job of hiding them,” I said, suddenly grabbing my stomach with a sharp intake of breath. It felt like someone had shoved a hot sword through my midsection and had started dragging it across my abdomen. “How severe is this one going to be?”

  Monty looked at me and shook his head as he gestured. Golden runes floated over to where I swayed in pain, landing on me.

  “It will be slightly uncomfortable for a short duration.”

  I took a step and immediately felt my intestines tighten. My knees buckled, and I leaned against one of the cool walls as I slid to the ground. At this point, I half expected some creature to burst out of my body and run skittering away. It was clear Monty and I had differing opinions on what defined discomfort. I looked up and saw Peaches and Monty observing me. Peaches stepped close, his drooling tongue in assault mode. I held out a hand to keep him back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  “Why…does this always happen…to me?” I asked with a groan. “And yet, you two seem fine?”

  Monty glanced at Peaches, rubbed his chin, and then looked at me.

  “Your creature has a singularity of purpose,” Monty said. “He is your bondmate, and your protection is his priority…that, and devouring enormous amounts of meat, it seems. He is in complete harmony. Purpose and expression are one.”

  “And you?” I managed through the blinding pain. “Why…why are you unaffected?”

  “I’m a mage. We don’t do internal conflicts without dire consequences. As odd as it may seem, my purpose, like your creature’s, is singular and clear.”

  “Are you saying my purpose is unclear?”

  “My best theory is that this pain you are suffering is a result of being out of sync with your abilities, which is a direct expression of your purpose.”

  “What abilities? I’m not a mage and I don’t do…I don’t do magic.”

  “You can fire a magic missile, anemic as it is.” He glanced down at Ebonsoul. “You choose to wear your weapon in a sheath when you can transport it internally.”

  “Because it feels wrong,” I snapped back. “I’m not going to carry some odd magical weapon inside of me.”

  “Which you are bonded to.”

  “Doesn’t matter. It stays in the sheath.”

  “Your lack of acceptance of this new reality is causing chaos within you. Being stubborn doesn’t change the facts.”

  “Facts?” I asked. “Like the fact I’m thousands of miles from home chasing a vampire that probably wants me dead? For what?”

  Monty shook his head.

  “You are the Chosen of Kali, my shield-bearer—bonded to Ebonsoul, your creature, and, it would seem—your vampire. You are clearly suffering from a lack of harmony.”

  “What I’m suffering from is a lack of coffee,” I said, reaching for my flask. “A sip of javambrosia will reset all of my harmonic interference.”

  “No, it won’t,” Monty said, squinting in the morning sun and looking around. “But, if it makes you feel better, by all means, imbibe.”

  “Imbibe, I will,” I said, getting unsteadily to my feet and pulling out my small, silver flask. The grinning skulls on the surface gave off blue energy as I took a short pull of coffee godliness and felt it give me a warm hug…from the inside. “That—is divine java.”

  “Literally,” Monty answered. “Hel never told you what was in that flask?”

  Valhalla Java, aside from being the best coffee I’ve ever tasted on this planet, enhanced my reflexes, strength, and vitality for a short time. It was NOS for my brain, though I hadn’t yet had a chance to test all of its properties.

  It was a gift from Hel, the Norse goddess of the underworld. I was certain there were some nasty side effects to drinking too much of it—like degenerative zombification, or sprouting an extra pair of ar
ms.

  “Only that I shouldn’t drink too much of it all at once.”

  Actually, the exact words were: don’t drink more than a spoonful at once. Since I wasn’t clear on which type of spoon was being referenced, I was using soup ladles as my guide. Between my curse and the Valhalla Java, my body recovered rapidly from the teleportation’s mangling of my insides. I was feeling better by the second.

  “Are you trying to determine how much is too much?” Monty asked, heading to a large door on the other side of the courtyard. “Or is this a ‘wait and see’ situation? For all you know, you could be drinking some ungodly poison. You do realize it’s not coffee, yes?”

  “That is a valid point,” I said, turning over the flask a few times while examining it.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You know how in those commercials they always say something like, side effects may include: nausea, intestinal discomfort, headaches, spontaneous disintegration, and fatal brain implosions? Maybe there’s some fine print I missed?”

  “On the flask itself? Really?”

  “Hel—actually Cathain Grobjorn, the brewer of Odinforce, was a little vague with the instructions,” I answered, still examining the flask. “Even he wasn’t certain what would happen to me over time because of my unique condition.”

  “You didn’t think to ask Hel?”

  “Have you met Hel? I don’t think she’s known for her warm conversations. At the time, I think she was in a Ragnarok planning session with Ezra.”

  “And you think the side-effect warnings are going to be imprinted on the flask somewhere?”

  “That’s why it’s called ‘fine print.’ Maybe too much Valhalla Java can cause permanent superhuman strength, lightning-quick reflexes, godlike wisdom and other awesomeness?”

  “If it does,” Monty said, raising an eyebrow, “when do these symptoms begin to take effect?”

  “Was that humor?”

  “Simply an observation that there has been no demonstrable change in your strength, reflexes, or wisdom. Could be it increases migraines?”

  “I don’t suffer from migraines or any type of headaches.”

  “Not you—for those in proximity to you.”