Turning Pages

by Brhi Stokes

  “It’s fine. We... I’ll figure something out.”

  “I’m sure you will.” I nodded. “That was all the reason I came,” I added, rising to my feet. I was a little woozy from the strong drink. “I had better be going.”

  “Take care, Page,” Avilaigne told me, a surprising warmth in her voice as she waved in parting.

  Matthen, on the other hand, walked me to the door.

  “Are you sure you said no?” he asked as we stepped into the warm night air.

  “Quite.” I glanced at him and noticed that his eyes were searching my face for something. “What?”

  “Well, it seems to me like you’ve already been doing the job they offered you.” He shrugged. “I just think that it might’ve been less of a question of offering the job, and more of bestowing a title you already had.”

  “Please don’t say that,” I groaned. “If I have another uninvited guest end up at my flat, they’ll probably stay permanently.”

  “That an invitation?” He leaned in, mandibles widening with his smile.

  “You’re a menace,” I told him.

  He chuckled and stepped back out of my personal space. “All right, all right. Take it easy, Page. And if you ever need to unwind, you know where to find me.”

  I made sure he had retreated fully into the inn before I stretched out the wings on my back and hoped they worked the way I thought they did.

  A fluttering behind me indicated that they were half-decent to fly on, and I left the ground, arcing myself towards the train tracks and hoping I was far enough from the last two times I had left Myrkdraw. I sat down on the rail so that no one could see me from the ground, and waited for the next train.

  

  “That was around a month ago,” I tell Connor as I wind up the story and sit back in my chair. We had migrated to the living room once my back had started complaining from hours of standing in the kitchen.

  “And?” he asks, his eyes wide with excitement as he stares at me from the settee.

  “And what? That’s it.”

  “What do you mean ‘that’s it’! What about being an arbiter? And what about Matthen?”

  “This isn’t some tv series where I save the day every episode and fall for a dashing, swarthy bug-man. Honestly, I would have preferred his attention be elsewhere.”

  Connor pouts. “What? Would have preferred a bug lady?”

  “Usually,” I say dismissively. “As for being an arbiter, I don’t really need that kind of responsibility, now do I? I have enough of a hard time with uninvited guests as it is. Something which obviously hasn’t stopped since I put that bloody amulet back.”

  “Uninvited? You literally left a tape telling me where you lived, Page. You said ‘stop by my office’ on the stupid thing! You invited me here.” His voice raises a little higher than he means it to, and a flush forms across his pale cheeks.

  He is right, but ‘stop by my office’ had not meant, ‘sleep in my spare bedroom for three days’. I refrain from hassling him about it; I can see from his averted gaze and his blush that he is at least a little ashamed about having to sleep in a stranger’s home. Idly, I wonder whether helping him patch things up with his parents will get him out of my hair (and, ideally, my life).

  As if reading my mind, Connor mutters, “I guess I should go home now that you’re done. Or try to, anyway.”

  “You can stay as long as you need.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them and Connor’s eyes light up immediately. “But we’ll have to get some proper groceries, and you’ll need to figure out what you’re doing with your life. I’m not taking on a freeloader. And you will have to talk to your family, eventually.”

  “That’s fine,” he says with a grin. “I can look after the flat while you’re away, or direct Daniel to where you off yourself or-”

  “Easy there, bucko.” I hold up a hand to try and stop his spiel. “This is temporary. I don’t know if you really got it from the story, but I don’t particularly like-”

  “Unwanted guests?” he finishes.

  “Something like that.” We fall into an easy quiet while Connor stares out the living room window.

  When he looks back to me, he is frowning. “So you really said ‘no’ to them?”

  “Of course I did.”

  At first, I think I imagine the sound but the footsteps on the stairs have us both turning. I frown; I could have sworn I had locked the door. The woman that emerges is a young Japanese girl, who remains silent as she crests the top of the stairs.

  “Natsuko?” I whisper, frowning.

  “Natsuko!” Connor stares excitedly between myself and the girl, mouth hanging open in delight.

  “I wanted to talk,” she says hesitantly before approaching to take a seat on the settee with Connor. For his part, the young man just stares at her in astonishment. Natsuko eyes him warily, before glancing at me.

  “Connor’s fine,” I say. “He knows. You can talk in front of him.”

  “No one has talked to me since you came to Japan,” she tells me as if choosing her words carefully.

  “If you mean you haven’t received any jobs from messengers, that’s not really a problem, is it? I mean I haven’t either. Of course, that’s not particularly unusual for me.”

  “It let you go away with the item. The Masters might make you do things with Evisalon,” she tells me.

  “What?” I ask as Connor shifts his gaze from Natsuko to myself in turn. “You think they want to use me against the people of Evisalon?”

  “Not the people.”

  “The thing with the mask, have you… seen it before?” I ask abruptly.

  Natsuko shakes her head, but she refuses to meet my eyes despite my attempts to hold her gaze.

  “Is that all you came here for? To warn me?”

  There is a long silence as Natsuko stares over my shoulder. I can see Connor hanging off of every word exchanged between us. Finally, the girl shakes her head.

  “I need your help.”

  I groan softly to myself, hoping the sound is not too loud as Connor fixes me with an ‘I-told-you-so’ look. I can only hope that word does not spread any further than this. I frown as Natsuko stands abruptly and nods towards the stairs.

  “Come with me, please,” she says as she begins to head towards them.

  “Where are we going?” I have to wave a hand at Connor to stop him from accompanying us as I join Natsuko on the stairs. “Stay here,” I call back to him. Even from the first floor, I can hear his grumbling.

  Natsuko is silent as she leads me out into the last of the evening’s pale light. It is snowing, and the grey from the cloud cover washes everything in its miserable pallor.

  “Natsuko,” I begin, “I understand that you might need some help, but I quite literally just turned down an offer to do this sort of thing. I’m not going to be some inter-planar intermediary just because a masked creature thinks I have a knack for it.”

  Surprise crosses her face. “You spoke to-”

  “No, not that one. A... different masked creature. I’m sorry to tell you I’ve seen more than one.”

  She glances over her shoulder at me as we reach the stairwell, her expression dour. “If you will not help then why did you try to help me before? Did you just want the item?”

  “What? No. I-” I pause, unable to answer her question in any meaningful way. Unable to truly explain it to myself.

  “You said if I need to talk that I could come and see you,” she says, frowning at me. Then, she turns on her heel and starts to head up the stairs.

  “You can’t get through that way,” I say, “it’s mostly just maintenance access for the roofs.”

  She is intent on ignoring me, however, as she climbs the small stairwell and reaches the metal door that blocks further passage. I cock my head as it opens before her. I could have sworn they always kept that thing locked up tight so no one could access the private balconies of the flats.

  Natsuko steps onto the nearest sl
oping roof and I am suddenly concerned that one or both of us will slip on the snow and go tumbling down into the courtyard below. Not a final death, but a definite inconvenience for sure.

  I follow, regardless, my feet slipping on icy pieces of tile as we head back towards my flat, passing over my roof. She stops only at the bottom curve of the U-shaped complex. Here, across a small street is a view of the park that my own home lacks. Truth be told, I had wanted one of the two here, but neither had been on sale when I had come looking. Eight years on and I still regret it.

  We stand side by side, staring out at the park. A few metres below us are the small rooftop balconies that no one besides myself ever uses. Even then, I only came up there for a smoke when I could really not be bothered going for a walk in the cold. It is not too far to the ground below, and I get the feeling that falling would be extremely painful, but probably not deadly. Needless to say, I have become quite adept at judging the lethality of heights over the last eight months.

  “What are we doing on the roof, Natsuko?”

  She turns to glance at me and I can see something of an apology in her eyes as she hesitates. She turns fully so that we can stare at one another, but then her mouth opens wide - wider than I imagined it could have - and something dark and smoky begins to pour out. My eyes grow large and I reach out towards her but something holds me in place as inky smoke gushes from between her lips.

  I stare in horror and dark fascination as the gaseous fluid drops to the ground and commences coalescing. Minutes pass, hours perhaps, as I watch the slick mess pour from Natsuko’s mouth before congealing. It is only her coughing gasps that make me realise she has finally stopped, but I can barely see her behind the inky cloud that wavers in front. As it gathers, it slowly forms a humanoid shape. I can make out broad shoulders, and limbs that are too long to be based on any human I have ever seen. The figure is made entirely from a gaseous pitch that oozes into a hazy mess where its feet should be. It flicks a hand, shedding some of the liquid from its black fingertips.

  Partially translucent, I can only just see Natsuko’s form behind the thing, but she is a distant mirage through its incorporeal body. It is only as I raise my head to look at the thing’s face that I see the final adornment. A white mask in the shape of a fox head catches in the dim light of the street lamps below and it is all I can do not to stumble back away from the figure.

  “You…” I try, but the same terrible itching that I had felt in my throat when I had spoken to the Master in Evisalon returns, and I begin to cough and retch.

  .̡̳̞.̡͙̲.̳̦̯y̦̭͜o̞̪̗u̫͓͙ ̯̠̰r̻̤̫ȩ͎̣ṱ̡̺u̥̩̱r̥̼͚n̢̪͕e̤̙͚d͍͙͍ ̧̧̰t̮̩͜h̼̱̜e̱͚͜ ̻͕͎Ș̞͔ạ͚͈c̘̪̹r̰̬̥e̹͚̫d͉̭̻ ̩̗̥O̗͔͓ą̫͔t̬͈͜h͇̪̣ ̲̥̞t̨̥͖ǫ̤͓ ̞̪̬E̼͜ͅv̯̫̬ḭ̮͕s͖͇͖a̲̤̭l͎͓̗o̺̬̭n͙͍̫.̨̣̲.̧̣̘.̼͍͜

  The voice comes from Natsuko, behind the figure, but her voice is flanged and distorted. It is as if she is speaking from a great distance and between the shadows that surround us.

  I try to speak once more but I cannot remove the grating itch from my throat. Instead, I nod at the creature, hoping that my gestures are enough to communicate. More than the burning in my throat, it feels as though I am suffocating in the creature’s presence.

  At my answer, it stretches out a hand towards me. Black smoke rises from the liquid that still covers its fingers as it places a thumb against the side of my jaw and draws it downwards. There is a cold yet burning sensation on my face as the sticky mess smears across my skin. I try to cry out in pain but only end up coughing and gagging.

  .͖̤̱.̧̳̖.̩̝ͅw̜̤̟h̡̜̲y̡͎̗.͚̘͙.͎͙͔.̰̯̜

  The pressure on my throat is released and I sputter and gasp, drawing in a ragged breath before I can work up the will to respond. It is suddenly hard to remember why I did it, or what the creature is even speaking of. I close my eyes for a moment, blocking out the sight of the thing that has spewed from Natsuko’s throat. Slowly, my mind begins to grip reality a little better and I find my words.

  “They needed it back. Their plane was going to fall apart without it.”

  .̨̯͙.̡̟̠.̯͉̳y͇̱ͅȩ͚̠s̱̫ͅs̬̤̦s̢̰̮.̧̘̼.̭͕̜.͈̰̙

  It hisses the word through Natsuko’s voice, sending shudders down my spine.

  .̖̩̺.̜͍͔.͖͈̗ḽ̲̠e̺͉͖t̞̱̪ ͈̝̬i̢̼͓t͖̟̮ ͚͚̝c̩̲͔r̡̺̳u͇͍͜m͚̙̥b̢̟̖l̦̖͇e̥͔͔.̗̰̬.̳̞̖.͔̖̻ ̨̗̮l͚̖͚e̱̻̹ț̘̻ ̢̘̼t̨̢̤h̤̠̦e̳̲̪ ̺͖͈w͇̞̟o̭͎͖r̡͖͇l͇̘̭d̬̗͙ ̨͉̰o̜̪̪f͉̪̳ ̨̨̮m̼̮ͅy͍̳̖ ̦̩͚ṣ̫̗į͉̬s̻̹̟t̪͕̼e̲̣̞r͚̬̬ ͕̙̜b͓̬̫ȩ͕̣c̺̞̣o̭̳̳m͇͔͜ḙ͉̻ ̩̪̗f̳͚̱l̖͎ͅo͎͚̪o̜̣̗d̨͇̝e̢̳̰d̪͙̰ ̳̦̭a̧̼͜n͎̬̬d̦͈̙ ͎͚̲ŗ̱̬o̺͔͜t̻͎̦t͇̹͖e̡̧͚n̡͙͙.̢̭͇.̢̪̗.̨͖̖

  “Is that what you want? Just to watch Evisalon crumble? You let me return it. You left so that I could take it back to them. You wouldn’t have done that for no reason, you wouldn’t have done that if you truly wanted to see Evisalon fall in on itself.” I search its wispy form and mask for any sign of emotion but all I can see is emptiness. It does not answer, and I am not sure if it is even listening. While the masked face is pointed directly at me, I cannot be sure if it is looking at me, behind me, or simply through me with its dead black eye sockets.

  .̮̤̮.͙͇ͅ.̧̨̪t͖̯̱a̱͔ͅk͇̻̬e̙̜̣ ̨͍̠t̜̤͕ḩ̜̺e̡͙̯ ̨̻ͅo̳͕̮f͚̼̙f̩͈̪e̗͓̯r̢̲̻ ͙̫̫o̬͕͚f̜̹̯ ̮̝͜t̬͎̦h̬̠̮e̟̫̙ ͍̟̮s͉̰̲i̳͎̼b̢̪̙l̹̺͎i̦̼͇n̢̪͈g̳͙̳.̗͔͚.̣̖̼.̨̘̼

  Its voice is a whisper, Natsuko’s distorted words echoing in the shadows around me. I refuse to answer until it reaches out a hand towards my face again and I begin to stammer out words. The hand halts a few centimetres from my cheek.

  “The offer…? To become an arbiter, you mean? Why could you possibly want that?” I am trying to keep my voice from shaking, but my words sound weak and fearful to my ears.

  It does not respond, simply staring at me with the darkness behind the mask. The cold of its undulating body reaches me from where it stands, but I do not think I can work up the will to move away. Whatever its reason for wanting me to take up the position of arbiter, it is going to keep it to itself. I begin to wonder what choice I have in all this.

  “I don’t want to,” I begin, as the cold around me swells. “I have no interest in helping them. I’ll work for you, but I won’t be some go-to for every fixer who starts an argument in another plane.”

  Something hisses and wheezes in Natsuko’s voice and it takes me a second to realise that the horrid sound is laughter. The body of the creature in front of me shudders and I see several pieces of its shadowy mass split off from behind its lower back. They arc out and up, three on either side of it, before the two trios begin to split again and again and again. Numerous, endless wafting tendrils appear behind it. I am not sure what terrifies me more: the fact that they appear to hold a space impossible for them all to fit within, or the fact that they are strangely beautiful.

  The tendrils spread out like the fanning tail of a demented peacock, though the mask does not so much as budge. I can no longer see Natsuko behind the figure. I can no longer see anything but the innumerable tails of the creature and its glistening white mask.

  .̜̩͙.͍͙̱.͕͙̲t̟͈̮h̡̬͜e̹͖̰ ̨̠̝d͓͎͔e̢̯͕c̢̝̻i̟͈͍s͈͉͜i͓̤̞o̲͕̖n͖̠͜ ̢̖͉i̖̲ͅs̩̗̳ ͍͎͜n̰͍͓o̢̙̱t̩̬̹ ̳͚͖y͙͇̱o̬͍͈u̧͔͔r̝̳̹s͖͔̬ ͕͎̩t̞̮͚o̖̹̗ ̤̦̗m͔͈̰ḁ̘̟k̹͍͈ḙ̪̞.̧͓͎.̼͔͚.͓̭̱

  I can barely make out its words this time, as they drift away into the darkness around me. Slowly, I begin to lose myself in its inky depths, and the shadows of the world around me darken swiftly. I can hear now the whispers that emanate from within its shifting body.

  There is a sound that brings me back to myself, a cry of fright which snaps me back to my senses and the darkness around me fades abruptly. I am back on the roof, staring at the inky figure, its tendrils completely gone. />
  From somewhere nearby, there is a tumble and a thud and I barely have time to see a figure topple from the roof of the building and back towards my small balcony. The scene brings me out of my daze and I find myself moving past the creature and towards my flat without thinking.

  Something stops me. An icy grip on my throat that tries to lift me from the ground. I fall deathly still in its grasp, closing my eyes and trying to slow my racing heart.

  .̢̫͈.̰͜ͅ.̙̝͚d͕̗̪ǫ̣͙ ̟͖͈n͓͓̠o̧̻̼t̨̰̭ ̻̘̮f̢̳̹o̲̠̠r͈͍ͅģ͙̯e͔͕̹t̩̞͍.̲̖̬.͓͓̠.̡͉͚

  The words are a whisper as the grip releases and I stumble to my knees. Beside me, Natsuko’s body slumps to the ground, and I reach over to turn her face towards me. She is breathing, but her eyes are closed and she does not move.

  The creature is gone.

  “Connor?” I call back towards my flat.

  After a moment of tense silence, I hear his voice. “I’m okay…”

  I stagger to my feet, feeling as though my bones have iced over. Despite the cold night, the air seems warmer without the presence of the masked creature. It could not have been more different from the Master I had met in Evisalon.

  Gingerly, I pick up Natsuko’s limp form and step carefully across the sloping roofs, doing my best not to tread on any patches of ice that I can see shimmering beneath the light from the streets. When I make it back to my own roof, I can see down onto the tiny balcony. Connor is splayed out against the railing, his eyes huge as he stares up at me.

  “Is it gone?” he whispers, and my stomach drops. The look on Connor’s face is one of awe and terror, of not really believing the thing you have just seen because to believe it would be to give up on sleep for a very long time.

  “You came out to the roof?” I ask dry-mouthed, carefully sliding my way to the balcony with Natsuko in my arms.

  “I… I couldn’t see you from the windows so I thought I‘d come out here to see where you’d gone and I heard voices on the roof so I climbed up and-” he cuts his rambling short, scrubbing at his face with a hand. “All of this is real, isn’t it?”