by Eden Crowne
“Daddy, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. For everything that's happened.”
And everything that is going to happen I added silently to myself.
“I know sweetheart, I know. It's my fault. I started shutting you out sometime around that posting in Bangkok and never let you back in.”
“Why can't we be like before? Why can't everything be like it was?” The anguish in those words surprised even me.
He hugged me tighter; “Things can't be the same. They can get better, Lexie. We can make them better.”
Not trusting my voice, I just nodded, feeling deep within that everything was only going to get worse.
We stood like that for a while, his chin resting on the top of my head. Finally he pulled away.
“I've got something for you. A surprise. I was going to give it to you for your birthday. That day was, well, you know what that day was like. Give me a second.”
Picking up his briefcase and setting it on the counter, he took out a sheet of paper in a clear plastic folder. My dad loves clear plastic folders. Every paper ends up in one.
“Here, read it.”
The logo alone told me what I needed to know. Air France. “A ticket,” the words caught in my throat so that I could barely speak, “to...Paris.”
“Lexie, I'm beginning to understand how much your friends there mean to you. Brittany and, um, what's her name?”
“Brianna, not Brittany. And Isobel.” He never tried to remember my friends' names. Not that there had been that many since we left Santa Monica.
“Right. Isobel and Brittany.”
“Brianna.”
“Whoever.” He waved a hand in the air and laughed. “You can go as soon as school's out. I'll give you some money, of course. You can stay with them, right?”
Nodding, not trusting my voice, I held the e-ticket printout tightly in front of me with both hands while he talked about financial arrangements or something. I really wasn't listening. A chance to see Brianna and Isobel. It was what I wanted more than anything. Before all this. I had a terrible feeling a carefree Parisian summer of fun was not going to happen. Not for soul-lost Lexie Carpenter. Things had changed in a big way. Silver-haired sorcerer and demon-in-my-room sort of change. Trying to cover the doubt and confusion that must be all over my face, I set the ticket aside and reached out, hugging him tightly to me again. It was good of him to do this. No matter the outcome.
We stayed like that for some time until I felt him shift. “What the hell is all over the glass?”
It was some time before I could safely escape back to my room. The symbols on the windows explained away as a photography project for art, which I dutifully then took pictures of. A pretty good excuse on such short notice. My poor little camera had been very neglected lately. Luckily there was just enough of a charge left. Dad ate the dinner Tina made and I pushed the food around on my plate. It was all I could do to keep from jumping up and running around in circles screaming, the rising sense of panic threatening to overwhelm me. After promising to wash the symbols off the windows tomorrow, I said I had studying to do and escaped back to my room at last. Switching on the closet light from the outside, I cautiously opened the door.
The creature was still tied up on the floor with the addition of something white stuck in its mouth. One of my socks hopefully, not my underwear. Just because the sorcerer had already seen me in my bra and panties didn't mean I wanted him pawing through my lingerie! Julian sat, apparently at ease, his back against the far wall and the knife ready in his hand. There didn't seem to be any blood and I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Can we proceed now, Alexandra, if you are quite ready?” He didn't bother to hide the sarcasm in his voice.
Eyeing the knife warily, I whispered, “Proceed with what exactly?”
Julian tugged the white whatever out of its mouth. “Alright Fetch, the name of your master. Tell me.”
It said nothing.
“I can destroy you.”
The creature's face twisted into a crooked grin. “Then you will never know.”
Rising to a standing position, Julian looked down at the thing. It was a few moments before, with a quick glance at me that I could not read, he spoke again. “Do you love your master?”
“What?” The topaz eyes opened wider.
“Do you love him? Do you serve him willingly?”
There was no mistaking the expression that spread across the creature's features. Pretty much the opposite of love, if I interpreted it correctly.
“As I thought.” Julian squatted down, leaning close to the Fetch and almost sighing the next words, “I can free you.”
Recoiling, it hissed, “You cannot. Liar, liar!”
I shushed them, whispering, “Quiet!”
It glanced at me, then back at Julian. “He has bound me. Bound me much more tightly than this ragged braid of skin. My master is a lord of darkness.” He said the last words almost proudly.
Standing, Julian slowly and deliberately spread his arms wide. “As am I, Fetch. As am I.”
There was a whisper of sound that sped around the confined space of the closet, faster and faster.
“Behold.”
Julian started to glow. Light beams emanating from him in an arc of gold, bathing his body and the confines of the closet in sparkling luminescence.
“Fear me, demon,” Julian said in a voice like none I had ever heard before, so deep, it resonated in my bones. “Fear me.”
My heart skipped a beat; it was hard to breathe. I don't know what the Fetch was feeling; I was certainly afraid. Throwing his head back, Julian chanted strange words that snapped and crackled in the air, sending electrical sparks, much stronger than those from the demon cord, crackling up and down my arms. Without warning, a beacon of light burst from him in shafts so sharp, I thought they would pierce me. He burned, glowing from the inside out, like a Renaissance religious painting, the spectral flames engulfing him.
Instinctively, I recoiled. It was a few heartbeats before I realized they were not hot, only bright, and then, even brighter.
The golden glow became ringed with red and orange. Even shielding my eyes, Julian's image seared itself into my brain. There was a great rattling roar and everything started to tremble and shake. I rocked on my heels trying to keep my balance. Was the closet shaking? With the light so intense, I dared not open my eyes. No, not the closet, the whole building. Everything began to sway.
“Earthquake!” I heard Dad yell.
Feeling my way to the closet door, I kept my eyes closed until I made it through. The afterimage of Julian still shining on my retinas. I stumbled out of the bedroom to keep Dad from coming in. Behind me, a shaft of the magnificent light chased after. I closed the bedroom door just before it could escape into the hallway and beyond.
Maneuvering us both towards the guest bathroom on the other side of the apartment, I said, “We should be near the front door, just in case.”
After less than a minute, the swaying finally subsided. I felt like the world was still rocking. “I need Dramamine.”
He smiled and kissed me on the forehead. “Our first Tokyo earthquake.” He grabbed his phone from his pocket and held it up. “Earthquake selfie! Smile.” He snapped a photo as I tried not to look half-crazed with shock.
Looking at the shot, he frowned. “What's wrong with your face?”
“Dad!”
He laughed again. “Kidding.”
In the living room, we switched on the TV searching the channels. There was no news of a quake scrolling across. Dad shrugged, I shivered, and we said our goodnights again. Entering the bedroom and edging into the closet – very carefully – I saw that Julian was once more himself.
“Did you do that?” I asked.
He didn't answer or even look in my direction.
Their positions had changed, his and the thing's. No longer bound, it knelt before Julian, forehead touching the carpet, obviously abasing itself, the scaly body shaking. “My Lord, forgive me,”
it hissed again and again. “Forgive, forgive. I am a worm, a worm to serve the Soul Eaters.”
Julian had some kind of demon bowing down to him.
In my closet.
Could this scene get any weirder?
I felt a sudden, wild urge to laugh.
“Not a worm, Fetch, not unless you choose to be. Tell me the name of your master and I will free you.”
The creature's body tensed, muscles knotting. It flexed its wings rapidly, tail lashing reflexively back and forth. Breathlessly, it whispered, “You cannot, no one has that power.” Its voice seemed to hold equal parts hope and fear.
Julian reached into a small leather pouch to carefully pull out a tiny, shining object. A blue crystal, maybe? Looking closer, I could see it was made up of miniature interlocking rings, incredibly delicate.
“I have the word. Take it and you will be free.”
The thing's enormous eyes stretched even wider. Quite suddenly it began to cry in great, heartrending sobs.
“Shhh,” I shushed.
Covering its mouth with both hands, the thing cried even harder.
After a time, Julian held out the little blue object. “Say it and swallow.”
The Fetch gave a sharp intake of breath and looked up, the topaz eyes burning into Julian's emeralds.
“Say it.” The timbre of Julian's voice softened until it became almost gentle. “Say it.”
The creature reached out, though his taloned fingers shook so hard Julian finally had to place the delicate thing within. It spoke, saying a word in a strange tongue. I had the sensation of being able to see the symbol, word, whatever it was, appear in the air. The creature placed the crystal on its tongue and swallowed. The air shimmered, like a mirage in the heat. Everything became momentarily indistinct, blurred somehow. The closet filled up with an indefinable spicy scent, like toasted cloves and cardamom. As if on cue, the dark, rough scales fell from the demon en masse. A pink-skinned thing crouched there now, different in every way from the snarling, clawed beast Julian had wrestled across the living room floor. As I watched, the wings began to develop bands of color. It was like seeing a caterpillar transform into a butterfly. A really scary butterfly with claws.
Julian gathered up the Fudo cord, tying it back around his waist.
“I am clean,” the Fetch said, looking down at itself, touching the new skin tentatively. “Not a trick?”
Julian shook his head. “You are clean. Your true self once more. Not Fetch; not slave. Now, in return, tell me what you know.”
The thing took Julian's hand, kissing it first on the palm, then laying it against its forehead. “In your debt, great Lord, forever in your debt, I and my family. My master is, was,” and he said that word with obvious satisfaction, “Savan, Savan of Firenze.”
A short time later, the two of us were alone. The creature, now covered in a fine downy fur, had spoken quietly and at length with Julian as I tried to digest the news Savan owned a pet demon. Or used to. Flapping off into the Tokyo night, wings flashing slightly in the electronic glow of the high rises, the creature left us.
I looked at the mess on my closet floor and thought of the caretaker and his lecture on separating garbage.
“Do you think demon scales are burnable or non-burnable?”
Chapter 21
Dust Devil
Ever since drinking Julian's concoction, the pain in my heart, at least the physical part, had lessened and it was easier to breathe. At his insistence, I went to school the next day.
“Keep to your routine for now,” he'd said as he snuck out the front door. “We don't want them to suspect anything has changed.”
Them, being the Club. Routine or not, going to school was a pointless exercise in time wasting. I slept all the way there on the bus and couldn't concentrate during classes. Amber Lynne approached me after third period; who knows why? I gave her such a look, she froze in her tracks. Finally, there was no point in even pretending I was paying attention; I cut my last class.
Walking slowly to the train station beneath the buzz of the electric wires from the giant towers lining the route, my body felt untethered, floating like after a fever. Every touch seemed too intense. Even the wind on my face, soft as it was and fragrant with spring, stung like nettles. The train ride was interminable, station after station, through neighborhoods equal parts residential, commercial and even industrial, which seemed how they rolled in this country.
Zoning? We don't need no stupid zoning!
Emerging from the station near my home, I saw the dogwood blossoms lining our street were opening, wide white-and-pink petals unfolding here and there on trees covered with tight buds. A sudden sharp pain in my chest under the mark that wouldn't come off took me by surprise. I gasped, clutching my heart.
Julian appeared out of nowhere at my side. He looked pale. Paler? He was so fair it was difficult to tell.
“What the hell! You scared me to death. How did you even know I was here?”
He didn't answer. Pulling a small flask from his coat pocket, he was wearing the same knee length brown coat as yesterday, he said only, “Drink this.”
Unscrewing the top, I sniffed at the contents: the same mysterious smell as last night. I did as he said, the taste of summer flowing over my tongue, pushing the pain far away. I gave a deep sigh of relief. “You should market that recipe Julian, it would make you millions.”
“My family already has millions.” He cleared his throat, looking down at the ground, then back at me. I got the impression he was a little uneasy. “I, we, are going to see someone. I was not going to put you through this, but you need to know. You still don't believe, not really.” He paused again to stare down at his boots.
They were made of soft brown leather, I saw. The heels low. Probably good for running.
“I am asking you to place your life in my hands. That takes a great deal of trust. You must understand, Alexandra, no one else can find the three pieces of your soul. Will you come with me?”
Feeling a little uneasy myself, I nodded. What else could I do? There was a mystery here, and it didn't take Sherlock Holmes to show me I was deeply involved in some dangerous paranormal game. We descended into the subway and rode in silence for several stations.
Walking from the depths of the subway into the sunlight, the world seemed so very ordinary at that moment: traffic in the street, motorcycles roaring by. Drab apartments and office buildings jostling for space with convenience stores and drugstores, their goods crowding the already narrow sidewalk. A few trees lined the street, gasping for life in the car exhaust. Young mother's pushed baby carriages and noisy school children in navy blue uniforms and starched white shirts or blouses ran between everyone as though it were an obstacle course. Japanese businessmen and women in somber suits smoked and talked on cell phones, doing the usual everyday things business people do.
Nothing strange in any of that. Except for me. I was walking along the street beside a beautiful, silver-haired boy with eyes like emeralds who had tamed a demon last night in my walk-in closet. The self-same boy who insisted I lost my soul to demon craft and was doomed as a result. 'Surreal' hardly described my state of mind.
After a time, we stopped outside a gray building all glass and concrete with a wide driveway and a cheerful scattering of bright, flowering planters leading to a set of sliding glass doors. The red cross on the roof marked it unmistakably as a hospital.
Breaking the silence, Julian pointed towards the hospital entrance. “I followed a Kiros here. A kind of death spirit,” he answered before I could ask. “Attracted by certain, enchantment-enhanced deaths. I would say I found it by chance, yet so many things happen by design. Destiny chases us on silent feet, Alexandra. It pays to look over your shoulder.”
He gave me a significant sort of look and I nodded as though I knew what he meant. Julian, I was learning, said a lot of weird things.
“The creature hopes to catch the flicker of energy as the mortality falls from her corporeal bo
dy, pitiful as what remains.”
“What body? Where?” I felt thoroughly confused. Oh, wait, no news there!
“The Club has been hunting in Tokyo for some time. There have been and will be others like you. The Kiros spirit led me to one, a girl. Though, of course, it didn't know I followed.” He gestured towards the hospital. “She is in there.”
We walked, not to the large automatic glass doors, but around the side. The building was an older hospital, made of scored stone blocks.
“Hold on to me.”
“What?”
“Put your arms around my neck and just relax your body.”
Doing as he said, I nearly let go when he jumped, springing like a cricket, high onto the side of the building. Fitting hands and feet in the shallow grooves of the blocks he clambered, one, two, three stories above the ground. We must have been thirty feet up before my mind truly had a chance to comprehend what was happening. He slid open a window and shifting me around with a strength I could only barely comprehend, pushed me up to the ledge.
“In, climb in.”
I did as he said, trying very hard not to look down. It was a narrow fit. With his help, I squeezed through, falling very ungracefully to the floor with a loud thump. Julian followed effortlessly and soundlessly.
Picking myself up I saw we were in one of the hospital rooms, a private one. A bed of white and steel took up one corner. It was framed by a twisted confusion of tubes, wires, oxygen cylinders, and pumps. All of the hardware was attached to a terribly thin young woman barely making a lump beneath the white sheet, her face hidden under an oxygen mask, dark hair spread out on the pillow. A small, fluffy brown bear and a stuffed Hello Kitty in a pink tutu lay next to her on the bed. The room was silent except for an oxygen pump and heart meter providing a jumpy electronic beat I found unnerving. Julian pulled me forward when I would have hung back.
