by Z. V. Hunter
"It's been a while," I muttered and held out my hand. "The Vessel, please."
My mother always taught me to revert to politeness if I couldn't think of anything nice to say. It served me well when I managed to do it.
Kuro smiled, his teeth so white they probably glowed in the dark. "Akatsuki said you needed help. I assumed it was for more than a Spirit Vessel."
"It wasn't."
At least he didn't call her Aki. That would've been too much.
"Or you could slit his throat yourself. You have that knife, but you didn't bring a new sword. I'm sure the iron shuriken will work too."
I didn't bring a sword because I wasn't expecting to be gone this long. Plus, after the last one broke, I was out. They aren't really something you can pick up at a corner store.
The presence in the house swelled around me. The power that fueled it tingled on the tips of my fingers, and I wasn't even trying to draw it out. I didn't want to draw it out. I wanted to seal it and get the hell away from him.
What was Aki thinking?
She was probably snickering back at her Shrine, pleased with herself like this was the best idea in the world.
It wasn't.
Unless she was trying to get Kuro killed, but I doubted that.
Even worse, I bet she thought she had my best interest in mind.
That I needed help.
That I wanted help.
Of all people, she should know it's not safe when I'm around a Calamity this powerful.
It's not like she forgot.
I sure as hell couldn't.
"I didn't come all this way to be an errand boy," Kuro said, and I noticed the bulge in his jacket pocket. No doubt it was a Spirit Vessel.
I rolled my eyes. "Since when did you become an Exorcist? I thought your kind had a higher calling. Doctors and lawyers and those businesses your family runs. Or do you just stick to modeling now, Softbank boy?" I refrained from mentioning his magic, as if that would keep him from bringing up mine.
Kuro smiled the same stupid smile he did in the cell phone ads on the train. I really should've drawn some mustaches on them when I had the chance. "My brothers have all of that handled, so I decided to take a different direction. I thought you of all people could respect that."
"I'm pretty sure there's enough power in this place for you to disembowel him with your mind."
The last thing I needed was Lux feeding me thoughts like that. Especially when a memory pricked at the corner of my brain. My brows furrowed into a scowl.
"So, where's your little Shade? The one you have trailing me the other night? Huh?"
Kuro was far from the only Conjuror in Neo-Tokyo, but he was the only one I knew personally. The only one who could've found out about my Spirit Stone.
"What Shade? I don't have one at the moment. They take too much power to summon and maintain. You know that. Or I figured you would considering who trained you," Kuro said, and he sounded more awed and taken aback than arrogant. For once.
Unless he was lying. Which, yeah, that wasn't just a Conjuror thing. It was a human thing.
"Never mind." I shrugged. Turned my back on him and pointed inside the house. "If you think you can handle it, the Calamity is in the attic. Oh, and there are three fresh bodies in one of the bedrooms upstairs. Their ghosts may show up tonight too. You still sure you want to stick around?"
He didn't pale at that revelation as much as I expected. "Bodies? You didn't—"
"No! The Calamity did it, not me. But I don't blame you if you want to leave. If it's not pure enough magic for you."
He stepped over the threshold and squared his shoulders. He had more guts than he did when he was younger, I'd give him that. But no more. "What do you think it is?"
"Not sure yet. But this whole place feels like misery personified, and it's old. Maybe as old as the house. Do you have a weapon?"
"Take his weapon and throw him in the attic. Great idea."
Kuro opened his coat and showed me a circular blade with two distinct hand holds clipped to a holster on his belt. The blade was smoother and sharper than any of my swords had been, and it pulsed with an energy I hadn't noticed. The monster in the house had been blocking it.
Lux whistled. "Looks like he mastered what you couldn't. That's a decent Calamity Weapon."
"Who did you trap to make that?" I asked, my throat dry.
Raspy.
The only way to make a weapon that doesn't rust in the presence of Makai and Yomi magic is to infuse a Calamity into that weapon. The Calamity's power strengthens the iron or silver and creates a blade that's pretty much unbreakable.
And Kuro had one. Not that I was jealous. No way in hell.
Not of him.
But I did hate him a little bit more.
I'd tried to seal a giant centipede Calamity into a sword once, but the ritual went south. The thought of doing that again chilled my bones.
Conjurors think they're above all other forms of magic, but they're only human. They aren't really any better than the rest of us. No matter how much power they amass, our graves are all the same in the end. We are all welcomed to Yomi-no-kuni, eventually. If we choose to enter is another matter entirely.
"You could create a better one if you used me," Lux said.
I didn't respond. Kuro didn't know about Lux, and I wanted to keep it that way. Conjurors had a habit of collecting powerful things for themselves, and I didn't trust the Abe family at all. Even if they couldn't hear him speak, I'd no doubt they'd want him for their sick showroom of sealed Calamities.
Shrines did it to keep dangerous Calamities from harming people. Conjurors did it as a status symbol.
Kuro looked at the weapon and ran his long fingers over the sheathed blade. "I didn't seal it myself, unfortunately. It was a graduation gift from my parents. I think it's a Tengu. I don't think they expected me to use it."
Tengu—those are Calamities that have the body of a man and the wings of a great bird. They wear odd masks with long curved noses and wide eyes. I've never seen the face beneath, and I'm not sure I'd want to. But they aren't usually harmful—more mischievous, like a Kitsune or a Tanuki. The Great Tengu protect the mountains and have been worshipped like gods in the past. To seal one inside a weapon. . .I tried not to shudder. I didn't like Calamities, but some didn't deserve that fate.
"You mean your brothers have ones too?" I said, and bit my tongue. I didn't mean to sound incredulous. Not around him.
Kuro threw me a grin he probably thought was charming. It wasn't. "They do. Where's yours? I heard you work in the private sector now. Honestly, I was surprised when the Priestess of Meiji said Yukine Murakami needed my help."
I couldn't tell if he was being condescending or grudgingly respectful. Knowing him, it was the former. But he didn't smirk, and he raised his brows as if vaguely curious.
"It's Nox now. I don't use Murakami anymore. And I didn't need your help; I needed a Spirit Vessel. My weapon is at home, and I wasn't expecting a Calamity. I'm on a different kind of case. A confidential one," I said and ignored Lux's snickering.
A thundering thud sounded upstairs, like a great weight fell from the ceiling and smacked the floor.
We both looked up.
In the gathering twilight, the house seemed to collapse in on itself. The windows hardly let in any light, and the presence grew. A preternatural chill settled over us.
"What kind of Calamity?" Kuro asked.
I headed toward the stairs. "Only one way to find out."
And, right then, I'd take that thing's company over his.
He might not be the same annoyingly pompous asshole he'd been ten years ago, but that didn't mean I had to like him. Or want to be around him. Or, and this was the kicker, work with him. But he trailed after me up the stairs all the same.
Unnatural fog curled around my ankles and hid my boots. He wouldn't be able to see it. Not even if he sealed that other Longneck Woman like Aki said.
"Fog on the stairs. No miasma yet
. Whatever is powering this place isn't a ghost. Not anymore."
That happens. Sometimes a ghost gets so old all the humanity is stripped away, and it becomes a Calamity. Nasty way to end up.
"So why are the bodies still upstairs?" he asked, his voice hushed. "Shouldn't the police have cleared them out?"
I bit my bottom lip. "The police haven't been here yet. I said I was on another investigation when I found them. Looks like a mass suicide brought on by this Calamity."
He made a sound in the back of his throat that could've been approval or not. I didn't care. "But you've called the police."
I reached the landing. Inky darkness clogged the hallway. While night fell outside, it shouldn't be that dark in here yet even with the doors on either side shut. Only, I'd left Miki's room open, hadn't I?
I shook my head.
A heaviness weighed on me. Instead of the spark of Makai on my fingers, it felt like it was draining out of me.
Shit.
That's the downside of my powers—the part I never learned to master. I can call on the power of Calamities, but that means they can yank at my magic too. It's a double-edged sword, and unless I stay vigilant all the time, I could get devoured.
I needed to seal this thing.
"So, you had me come to a crime scene that's not even part of a real case?" Kuro hissed. He sounded far away, but when I glanced behind me, he stood close enough to touch.
"No, Aki invited you. I just wanted the Vessel. You can leave if you want."
"Not a good idea. Without him here to distract it, you might get eaten. Which would result in me getting eaten, and I don't like the sound of that."
No matter how much I hated Kuro Abe, I wouldn't let a Calamity eat him. If I could help it.
Probably.
My pesky morals prevented me.
Also, Aki would kill me.
So, I didn't shove him into the encroaching darkness and dart out of the house.
Or trip him up the stairs, snag his Calamity blade and slice him with it as an offering to the thing in the attic, no matter how many times Lux said I should.
I didn't have to.
Because one moment, the house pulsed around us. I heard Kuro's shallow breaths in my ear as we crept toward Miki's room. He hadn't asked why I chose it, and I didn't bother explaining.
My fingers slipped over the edge and pushed. It slid open easily, and the room was much as I'd left it.
Bed rumpled.
Papers on the desk.
The closet door gaped.
Wait.
I knew I'd closed that door.
"Uh-oh."
The next moment, everything slipped sideways.
The house reverted. The room around me changed. Wooden boxes sat piled in the corner along with a slender chest of drawers, the kind apothecaries use. A few spare kimonos hung next to it, their pale white forms wispy in the thick fog.
It was the same room, but it hadn't looked like this in a long time. Not since the Calamity first arrived here.
"Fuck!"
"You can say that again. It's strong enough to create its own doorway, and it yanked you inside."
"I noticed," I grumbled.
Bit my lip.
I didn't want to talk to myself around Kuro, but he didn't say anything.
In fact, I didn't hear him anymore.
Slowly, I turned.
My heart sank.
Kuro had vanished.
11
IT WASN'T THE first time I'd been tugged unwillingly into the Spirit World, but it takes many different forms. This house was one. That tangled mossy forest was another.
The other worlds are parallel to the human one, much like pieces of tissue paper that have been set on top of each other, but they don't just overlay each other. It's more like they've been twisted together so tightly they've created something new.
That's how my mother described it to me when I was small. The human world was green and lovely and the Spirit World a dark purple, like my eyes. Takama-ga-hara was gold and white, while Yomi-no-kuni was a black thread that ran between them all.
Death connected everything.
Profound, right?
Some Calamities pass between them with ease while others live solely on the human side or the Spirit World. It's part of their power. And some, like this one, forced unsuspecting people over the barrier.
Like me.
I'd have kicked myself if I didn't stand stock-still in that old storeroom, listening for the scraping I'd heard earlier.
The house creaked.
Outside, the wind howled and something crashed repeatedly, like a loose shutter hitting the house.
The closet was closed this time, and the faint glow of pale light came from the window.
I stepped toward it.
"Are you sure you want to look?"
"Maybe I want to pop up the street and find that cherry tree Calamity you found so interesting," I said.
"That's not how it works here."
He was right.
You can't enter the Spirit World at Point A and find Point B in the same place you could in the human world. Things are distorted here. When it's a piece of the past, like this, it usually sits on its own island, powered by the Calamity who resides here. Without that, the thread connecting it to our side would break. I can't say that'd be a bad thing in this case.
I scowled and glanced outside.
A sign hung at an angle and crashed into the pole that held it. The dark puddle of blood next to it caught my eye. The ever-present moonlight sparkled on the surface. It trailed up the walk toward the house and disappeared inside.
Where I was.
"It's not close to human anymore. Not even a vengeful ghost. It just wants to feed, and it's not alone. Neither are you."
"I got that."
"Did you?" Lux said, and sounded more cheerful than anyone had the right to be in a place like this.
It'd been stupid to think I could take on this thing without a sword, but here I was. I yanked out the shuriken. Five total. I'd have to make them count. Not leave any behind. But the edges already flaked red. Rust. That hadn't been there this morning.
"That's why you should use me."
"Are you some kind of masochist wanting to get bound to iron?" I hissed and stepped toward the closet. I'd have to check there first.
"Who said anything about iron?"
"Or silver or steel. That's how a Calamity Weapon is made. Usually."
"So, do it the unusual way. You normally do."
I didn't have time to engage in cryptic talk with him.
My fingers curled around the edge of the closet, and I sucked in a breath. The air was heavy and stale. It smelled of copper and dirt and the foul things that crawled inside it.
I tugged.
The door slid roughly and caught.
I pulled harder. Ignored the pounding of my heart. And the sensation that something stood right behind me and would snatch me in a moment.
The door slid and caught again.
I growled and looked down.
A few centipedes as long as my forearm, crawled out, swarmed over my boots, and tried to hurry up my leg. I bit back a scream and kicked them off. The bottom of my boots cracked against them, and they sizzled and oozed. My heart leapt into my throat. It'd been a long time since I had to deal with centipedes that big. At least they weren't full-sized Mukade.
"That brings back memories. Good times! But your iron soles are wearing thin."
Now that I could see inside, the closet was full of spare futons and a few blankets, fuller than Miki's had been. The door to the attic was shut.
A distinct thud sounded somewhere on the stairs. The same sound we heard in the other version of the house.
"It's playing with you."
I pinched my mouth shut. Talking would alert it, and I didn't want that.
Okay. What did I have to defend myself with? Five rusting shuriken and my nearly worn through iron soled boots.
Great.
Pulling on the power of that place wouldn't work. I couldn't use Makai against another Calamity since it's the same type of power they use. Sure, it might force the creature back for a few minutes, but at what cost to me?
That power would taint me again. I’d get a new mark on my skin. Take another step closer to twisting into one of them. That's another reason I couldn't take over the Shrine. I'd taint it too. No matter what my mother said back then, I knew the truth. The power I drew from was a blight to myself and others.
Scrape.
Scrape.
Scrape.
The thing stopped outside the room I was in, and there was no way out. Jumping from the window wasn't an option. If I got stuck in the Spirit World again, there's no saying when I'd get back to Neo-Tokyo. Could be a minute later. Or ten years. Or a hundred. Time didn't flow normally here.
The only way to go was up.
Did I mention I hate attics?
Slowly, the door pressed open, and I vaulted up. Sprang through the attic door like a rabbit leaping over a fence and scurried inside. As I pulled my toes in, a bright flash of pain slashed my thigh—a nail stuck out of the wood and slashed through my leggings to the flesh beneath.
Below, the door to the room opened. I bit the inside of my cheek to muffle my cry. A shadow slipped into the room—a bloody trail dragged behind it.
The thing looked like a giant bloody slug with a pair of tiny deformed arms that hung limp at the bulging chest. A mass of shadow hid most of the face, but the teeth, ragged sharp points that looked like yellowed ice picks, protruded from a mouth that was much too large.
Damn.
I wasn't keen on seeing that.
Silently, I slipped the cover over the hole and moved back. The oversized beams were rough under my bare palms. I'd left my gloves at home like a moron. I needed to think before I ran off on an investigation again. Never leave home without my equipment. I knew that, and yet. . .
"Yuki!"
The voice came from far away—faint and low—but I knew who it was.
Relief flooded my system. Getting Kuro killed wasn't really on my to-do list. For one, his family would probably find a way to throw me in jail, even if it wasn't my fault. Or use me in some weird ritual. I didn't put anything above Conjurors.
