by Eden Crowne
He looked down his nose at me and I snorted again just for good measure.
Angelo actually did not live very far from my own neighborhood it turned out. Just a couple of subway stops away, Julian said. The station by his bunker was a busy one so there were dozens of stores and fast food places circling it. My stomach growled painfully, maybe I was just hungry.
“I want a hamburger.”
“You want a what?”
“I want a hamburger and fries and a cola. If we are going to do battle, I want comfort food from my childhood.”
Reaching into my hoodie pocket he pulled out one hand, and grasping it, we walked across a busy intersection. I was surprised by this action. He did not often touch me.
“You're still a child,” he said firmly.
“Am not, and you're only a little older.”
“I was speaking of mental age.”
I punched him with my other hand and he laughed. Not his scary, secret, inward laugh, just good humor. A rare sound from Julian Lake.
“Buy me a hamburger, Lord 'I've got millions' Lake. I can see the Golden Arches shining nearby like a beacon of hope in the night for soul-lost and hungry American girls who are tired of drinking magic potions.”
“That's a somewhat limited clientele to base a fast-food business model on,” he pointed out.
“Feed me!” I whined.
In short order we were slouched in a slippery plastic booth with trays of food in front of us. “So now we owe the demon a favor,” I said around a fistful of fries. Everything tasted so salty and good. In fact, I was ready to swear McDonald's in Japan tasted better than McDonald's in America.
Julian nodded, his mouth being too full of hamburger to speak temporarily.
“Japanese kami and oni don't like demons, right? Western ones, I mean,” asked.
He swallowed. “Correct. Albert gave me Angelo's name. I didn't ask any details. Though the demon clans of Japan are very different from those of the West, they do have business dealings with one another from time-to-time. Albert's family has experience in that. I have no idea what Angelo is doing here. Given the extensive warding and bunker-like quality of his house, it can't be good.” He shrugged, “Politics of some sort. Asia is new territory for me.”
“Do all demons, Western ones I mean, look like Angelo? He seemed pretty textbook with the wings and tail and all.”
Hamburger halfway to his mouth, Julian paused, adopting what I was starting to think of as his “strokey-beard pose.” Like a professor lecturing. “'Demon' is more of a designation than an ethnicity. It encompasses a wide range of body types and personalities.”
“Multiple arms and legs?”
“No, those are Fell Beasts, some of whom can be disconcertingly sentient. Like Blaze. Modern lore makes little distinction between beasts, demons, Daemons, or even angelic beings. Not all of them are bad and not all of them are good. Honestly though, it's all part of nature's architecture in one world or the other. Look around, there is such amazing variation in form and function.”
“Then how come they aren't part of our history? Or civilization? Or running for political office on the Demon Party ticket?”
“Oh, but they are! Kingdoms and dynasties throughout history have risen and crumbled and risen again from spillover in otherworld politics. Look, I don't know everything, I'm picking this up as I go along!”
“You have to know, Julian, you have to!” I insisted with mock sincerity.
“No, I don't.”
“Yes, you do. You're my walking, talking, magical encyclopedia. Like Hermione to Harry Potter only angrier and with really cool hair.”
He stared at me and I tried to keep a straight face.
“You're teasing me,” he said at last.
I gave an exaggerated shake of my head. “Me? No, how could you suggest such a thing? I am always serious with you.”
“And who is Harry Potter?”
I took a deep breath, planning to explain when he cut me off,.“Is it fiction?”
I nodded.
“Don't care. Don't read fiction.”
Julian sipped at his cola. I was surprised when he joined me in my McMeal. In fact, I realized, this was the first time I'd seen him actually eat anything. I stared.
He sighed in exasperation. “Why are you staring at me, Alexandra?”
“You're eating.”
“And?”
“I wasn't sure if you ate, you know, regular food.”
Rolling his eyes, he gave me one of his 'what are you talking about?' looks. “Of course I do, what do you think I sup on? Magic spells and the blood of the innocent lapped from sacrificial altars?”
I nodded enthusiastically. “Yep, pretty much.”
“I have to eat just like anybody else for calories. Speaking of which, are you going to finish those fries?”
Grabbing the box, I did my own version of the Julian growl, “My fries, mine!”
Easing himself out of the booth, he stepped over to the counter and picked up another large order. “I'm going to need a lot of energy for the ceremony tonight.”
Chapter 34
Winging It
The bed in Julian's apartment was tipped on its side, making more space in the small room. A complex symbol of interlocking triangles, circles, and squares painted on the faded linoleum took up most of the floor space. Julian edged around the art work, careful not to step on any of it and, following his lead, I did the same. The preparations were for a ceremony to summon a magical word into physical being. The one Hiro gave him at Meiji Shrine. I wasn't quite sure why he wanted me there.
There was a small measure of open space in the kitchen. I set my backpack on the tiny strip of countertop. A wide suitcase with snap locks and a shoulder strap sat next to the kitchen cabinets. Or not exactly sat, the bag seemed to be sort of vibrating and there was a low-voiced growling coming from inside.
I gave Julian a meaningful stare.
“Insurance, for our meeting tomorrow.”
“What's inside?”
“More of a 'who' actually. Sort of....Um.” He seemed momentarily at a loss for words. “I want you to carry it during our meeting with Chen. If you get in a tight spot, spring the locks and stand back, understand?”
I nodded.
He drew the curtains and lit candles, placing them carefully on specific points of the crossed triangles. All other light extinguished; they were the only illumination. Scooting my backpack into the sink, he lifted me to sit on the counter. His eyes met mine briefly before flicking away. Neither of us had mentioned Savan's accusations. Not once since that night. Not knowing – at least on my part – how to introduce a conversation killer like, “Tell me Julian, are you planning to murder me to bring your dead girlfriend back to life?” So I'd said nothing, waiting for him to explain.
I was still waiting.
“Hiro gave me the word I asked for, now I must make it manifest.”
Words held a lot of power in Julian's world. That was a lesson once learned, I would never forget.
“Each of the Club members is empowered with certain skills when they become converts. You have seen some of my, um, talents. This power, to transform words into weapons is one that was given to me at my induction into the Club. My own personal alchemy.”
“And I'm here because?”
He looked into my eyes. His were very dark tonight, deep forest instead of emerald. “I had a premonition. A dream.” He rubbed his hand briefly over his eyes. “I feel it is important. You have to remain silent, however.”
I nodded.
“No screaming.”
I nodded again thinking wildly, 'screaming?'
He stepped to the other side of the room. My stomach twisting with tension, I watched him strip down to his jeans, leaving his chest bare. Even in the flickering light, I could clearly see the long thin scars down his right arm and the jagged tears of healed flesh criss-crossing his back through the narrow line of tattoos. Those scars were less of a mystery to me
now than when I woke up nearly naked and terrified in this room a few weeks ago. Yet the nature of Julian Lake, Soul Eater and sorcerer, was just as hidden in many ways. I wanted to trust him, but I didn't know him. I didn't know him at all.
There were four bags made of some dark material on the floor in a line at the part of the diagram nearest the door, each a different size. From the first, he took a footed silver bowl. It was smooth and polished and the candles glinted off its sides in little arcs of yellow light. Chanting a mantra that within seconds had the hair standing up on my arms, he set it carefully within the circle at the top of the diagram. From the second bag came a silver decanter, narrow at the top, wide in the middle. Fancy, with what looked like a vine of ivy – also silver – climbing up its sides. Closed at the top with a jeweled stopper. He placed the decanter in the circle between the two points of the triangle that intersected nearest to me. Out of the third bag came a goblet, not silver this time, gold. It was marvelously shaped with the base in the form of a bull's head, long horns curved back and up. With great reverence, he put the goblet in the circle of the point furthest from me.
Energy began building in the center of the room, I could feel the vibrations getting stronger and more focused. A ripple of magic swept up and out into the air, the metallic taste of it on my tongue unmistakable to me now. I didn't even think it strange when Julian took off his jeans and stood naked at the bottom of the diagram. His beautiful body, lean and muscular, illuminated in the flickering light.
Finally, reaching for the last bag, he removed a small dagger that gleamed in the candlelight. Chanting continuously and with great deliberation, he cut first one palm and then, shifting the knife, the other. I held my breath. Changing the dagger's position, his palms dripping blood, he slowly brought the sharp point under his left breast and drew it without hesitation in a line across his chest. I stuffed my fist in my mouth to keep from crying out as the crimson line began to bleed down his belly, dripping onto the floor.
His eyes shifted abruptly from green to black, just like the Club members did when they manifested. A cold shiver of fear slithered down my spine. What if he wanted me as more than just an observer? I didn't think I had anything left the Soul Eaters could want, but what did I know about their twisted games? I looked toward the door. It was only a few steps away. There was nothing to stop me from walking out. Glancing at Julian, I saw him set the dagger aside. He stopped chanting.
I decided to stay.
For now.
Though Julian was quiet, the room was not. An odd, throbbing noise I hadn't noticed before began to echo from the floor, then the walls and finally the ceiling, until it was pulsing everywhere at once. The rhythm throbbed like a giant heart beat: thump, thump, thumping in my head.
Julian kneeled in the center square and let the blood from his hands drip into the silver bowl. Picking up the decanter, he removed the jewelled top and poured a clear liquid into the bowl. Once again he took up the chant as the liquid filled the bowl. The same one or different. I sure couldn't tell. Quietly at first then speaking faster, the mantra rising in volume and intensity. The chant droned on and on and I began to feel drowsy. Eyelids heavy, so heavy. Maybe if I closed my eyes, just for a moment...
I was falling. Reaching out blindly I grabbed onto the edge of the sink. Must have dosed off, I thought groggily. The past few days had been pretty busy. I rubbed my eyes and looked around. Then I rubbed them again. Harder.
The borders of the room looked blurred and indistinct. As I stared, they seemed to pull back, receding into the distance and disappearing altogether. We were no longer in a shabby little apartment. This was a vast flat plain. The air hot and fresh. Wind rushed at my face, bringing with it the scent of earth and dried grass. I looked up and saw stars in the sky where only a ceiling should have been. The contours of the counter felt indistinct, the outlines rough and sharp, as though the molecules had morphed from metal and cheap pressed wood to stone. If this were an illusion, it was a damn good one.
The only thing that hadn't changed were the intricate triangle symbols and the shining objects of Julian's ceremony. Those and Julian who seemed not to have sensed the metamorphosis of the room at all. His focus was completely on the ceremony. Taking the smooth silver bowl, he poured its contents into the bull-headed goblet. Setting the bowl back in place and still kneeling, he reached for the goblet with one hand, running the fingertips of the other through the blood on his chest. With the blood, he drew several twisted symbols along the rim. Raising the goblet to his lips, he spoke a single, hushed word into it once. I couldn't hear the word, only see his lips move. He then carefully emptied the liquid back into the silver bowl.
Light from within the diagram seared into brightness and I threw both hands in front of my face instinctively shielding my eyes.
Reality rippled.
That was the best way to describe it. Like a seismic wave,.
Everything buckled and churned, forcing me to grab onto the counter or whatever it had become, trying to keep my balance. When I was able to look at Julian again, I saw his glowing body positioned face down on the diagram, feet towards where the door would have been if we hadn't fallen into another dimension or whatever. The blood from his palms dripped into the squares within the circle.
Reality heaved and churned again and I thought I would be sick. The throbbing pulse roared louder and louder. It sounded like a kettle drum, beat, beat, beating, faster and faster. I put my hands over my ears to drown out the sound.
Suddenly it was silent. The pounding stopped. The only sound a whisper of wind across the hot, grassy plain.
A shape appeared in the air, hovering high over the center of the diagram. Wispy and translucent. I stared, trying to make out the form. Two arms, two legs, a head, and something more. Something I couldn't quite identify. The temperature dropped like someone opened a giant freezer door. Wrapping my arms around myself, I shivered from more than the cold. The apparition raised its arms high, and I realized the shapes I hadn't been able to make out were wings! Huge wings that stretched out almost brushing my face. There was no way this massive being could have fit inside Julian's cramped little apartment. Had we really transcended time and space?
The wings moved slowly back and forth, keeping it aloft. I wasn't afraid, not exactly. I didn't think it was going to hurt or maybe even see insignificant little me. Not with Julian shining like a beacon in the dark.
The winged figure, male or female, I couldn't tell, hovered over Julian's prone body for some time, its hands flowing in graceful gestures above the liquid in the silver bowl. The awesome power of this apparition was unmistakable. I'm not sure how long it hovered there – time seemed very fast and very slow all at once – until reaching down, it appeared to caress Julian's head, the spectral fingers rippling through his silver hair before moving to trace the tattoo snaking down his spine. At its touch, all the muscles in Julian's body went taut. I could see the tendons in his arms, legs, and back become unbearably rigid. The temperature dropped even further. My breath came out in cold clouds of vapor.
The ephemeral figure moved its phantom hands away from Julian to cup the silver bowl. With the barest sigh, it breathed out a small, pulsing orange light that drifted slowly down into bowl.
Reality shifted and the room began to come back into focus, the starry sky morphing once again into sad, tired ceiling tiles. The winged figure gradually became thinner and wispier, until, at last, it disappeared completely, too.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a brief movement. One small, white feather drifted lazily down directly in front of me. Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed it. As soon as I touched it, a sensation shook my whole body, as though I had somehow fallen into the otherwhere again. There was a brief burst of light and a burning sensation in my hand. The feather was still there, and next to it lay a small silver medallion in the shape of a full moon. I didn't know why I knew it was the moon and not some random shape. I just did. Light beams radiated from the lit
tle silver circle, anchoring it to another circle. There was no chain. Not knowing what else to do, I slipped the disk into the pocket of my jeans, then tucked the feather inside my shirt, under my bra. My whole body went tingly. Kind of bubbly inside like when the kami Hiro held my hand on top of Meiji Shrine and laughed.
Hugging my knees, I waited for, what? I didn't know. All residue of the mysterious energy seeped out of the room along with the apparition. No more throbbing beat. The temperature gradually returned to normal. Julian was way too still. Easing myself off the counter, I kneeled and reached for his shoulder, hoping to turn him onto his back. Make him more comfortable.
“Don't touch the bowl,” he gasped and I started in surprise.
Thinking, 'I wouldn't touch it if you paid me', I kept my distance as well as I could given the cramped quarters. Julian started shaking uncontrollably, teeth chattering. At least his eyes were back to normal. Well, as normal as his jewel-like pupils got. He drew himself slowly and painfully to his knees. Since he didn't seem capable of standing, I helped him crawl out of the diagram. Pulling out a couple of blankets stuffed on the other side of the upturned bed, I wrapped him up as warmly as I could. He scooted over to lean back against the mattress frame with an exhausted sigh.
“God, I could use a bottle of aspirin.”
“Have you got any?”
He shook his head. “Bit behind in the shopping. Have tea, though.”
“I'll make some.”
In a few minutes, he was blowing on a hot mug of English tea as I looked on.
I asked the question uppermost in my mind. “Why the blood?”
“Spells,” he gave an exhausted sigh. “Spells demand sacrifice. Often blood.”
“Always yours?”
He gave me a sharp look. “No, not always mine. However, the stronger the spell, the greater the personal sacrifice the sorcerer must make.”
“So are you going to tell me what this ceremony was about?”
“Do you remember the word I gave to the Fetch?”
How could I forget the Fetch? “The little blue crystal thing you made it eat? Was that a word sort of word?”
