Owl and the Electric Samurai

by Kristi Charish

  Rynn had remained silent while I’d discussed the details of the job—or complete lack thereof—with Lady Siyu, but even I could see he was seething now. “Owl is not working for the elves,” Rynn said. “It’s suicide.”

  “The decision is not yours to make,” Lady Siyu started, her eyes bleeding back to yellow.

  “It is in fact my decision to make, if you remember the terms of my contract.” One of the things Rynn had done before agreeing to work for Mr. Kurosawa was to have overview of all my jobs. “They’re dangerous,” he continued, raising his voice. “And not just because they can’t accurately count bodies on a field. Those bureaucrats have no inkling what an actual job of any kind entails beyond passing a description around each other’s desks adding protocols that make no sense to anyone with half a mind to self-preservation.”

  I don’t think I’d ever seen Rynn this worked up about anything, including my own screwups, which he’d been spectacularly pissed about on multiple occasions.

  “That is an exaggeration,” Lady Siyu tried, getting visibly flustered now.

  Rynn ignored Lady Siyu and turned to me. “Did I tell you that the last time I worked in the supernatural community as an enforcer some elf put in a clause that I had to ask the supernatural in question three times if they were sure they didn’t want to surrender?”

  “That is not an unreasonable request—” Lady Siyu started.

  Rynn turned on her. “While they were shooting at me?”

  Lady Siyu shifted uncomfortably under Rynn’s gaze. “Still,” she tried.

  “And eating a village of humans.” Rynn glanced at me. “It was a troll—certainly not innocent—who was boiling five-year-old children, who, we are positive, are innocent beyond killing a few bugs, snakes and frogs. Not my standards—theirs, the elves. Try explaining to the elves not shooting the troll immediately means the children get eaten alive. It breaks their inflated brains.”

  Rynn had worked for the elves? How the hell had that never come up in conversation?

  “The point is that if the elves told you whatever they want Alix to get is ‘routine,’ you can be certain it is anything but and should have charged substantially more.” His voice started to rise again. “Which you’d have known if you’d bothered to ask me, the only one here who has a modicum of experience dealing with the internal workings of elves!”

  Lady Siyu was looking less confident as the moments ticked on.

  “Did you even bother checking to see what they were asking for, or did you let the elven bureaucrats snow you over with platitudes like they do everyone else?”

  Okay, the roles here had changed in an uncomfortable way.

  I stopped Rynn before he could continue his round of verbal sparring with Lady Siyu, something that I was usually on the receiving end of. “Just what is it they want me to find, exactly? What does this suit of armor do? Where is it from? That sort of thing.” If I knew where to start looking for information, I’d have a better chance of finding it.

  “They . . . were not clear on all the details,” Lady Siyu said carefully.

  “Jesus, you didn’t bother to ask, did you?” I said. Rynn snorted beside me.

  “But they provided information about the armor, including a description of the location where it should be.”

  Okay, a location. That wasn’t sounding nearly as disastrous. “That’s not a horrible start.” A location I could work with. A location meant history, civilizations that had risen and fallen. “Where?”

  Lady Siyu stared at me, and I saw her white throat move as if she was swallowing. “Ah, not the location, but a description of the type of temple it should be buried in.”

  “A description?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

  “They assured me it is quite distinct. As you are the archaeologist—”

  I was starting to get the impression the elves had snowed everyone over. Carpe—for all his asshole-ness and hijacking antics—had at least known the exact site.

  “Where the hell is Mr. Kurosawa in all this?”

  “Indisposed,” Lady Siyu said, her tone indicating there was to be no more question.

  I opened the folder back up. A few hastily copied inscriptions, a handful of temple drawings I didn’t recognize. The descriptions of the armor collected in the pages came from Mongolia, Southeast Asia, the Middle East, and Japan. The exact details of the armor changed with each place, but the name . . . now, that was interesting. Everyone gave the suit a different name, but they all roughly translated to mean the same thing: ‘the Lightning Suit,’ or ‘Storm Armor.’

  The oldest and most detailed account was from ancient Japan . . . 150 AD, give or take, where the armor and resulting legends seemed to originate. A suit of magic armor imbued with lightning from the storms, given to a farmer by a river spirit to protect his peaceful farming village from a particularly violent and sadistic neighboring warlord. I skimmed the details, but from what I could gather, the farmer won but paid a hefty price—his life. It was a common enough thread among fables and stories: be careful what you wish for and such.

  But other than an old fable and a collection of pictures? No maps, no specific locations, not even a city name for me to start with. One detail caught my eye—a footnote near the end. The armor changed its appearance with each new wearer.

  Shit.

  I turned to Lady Siyu, who was pursing her red lacquered lips as she held up the printout of the fable. “Tell me, when you had your meeting with the elves, did you put on the fancy heels and a nice dress because you wanted them to fuck you?”

  Rynn covered his mouth—I think to hide a laugh—but I couldn’t be certain, since Lady Siyu lunged at me, hissing, with her fangs out, a glint of yellow venom on each tip. Rynn intervened and held her back.

  I wasn’t about to let up though. One would think that if you kept an archaeological treasure hunter on retainer you might maybe, just maybe, confer with her before arranging a job. “Like he said, the elves snowed you,” I told her as she fought against Rynn. “It changes appearance. I’d have no idea I was looking at it even if I was standing in front of it.”

  “Wait. A suit that changes with the wearer?” Rynn asked, his brow furrowed now, even as he did his best to restrain Lady Siyu. “Translates to ‘the lightening warrior’?”

  I nodded.

  Rynn didn’t look nearly as hopeful as I did about the fact that he recognized the reference. “And the elves want to retrieve it—are you certain?” he said, this time directed at Lady Siyu.

  “Yes,” she hissed. “They say they require it to complete our other negotiations.”

  I was pretty sure Rynn swore in supernatural; it sounded like a curse word, even if I didn’t recognize it.

  I looked between him and Lady Siyu. “What am I missing?”

  “This isn’t retrieval for profit like she’s tried to make it out to be. It’s politics, thinly veiled politics.” He turned again to Lady Siyu. “Did they give you a reason?” Rynn was barely keeping civil now as he bared his own human-looking teeth at her.

  Lady Siyu shot me a glance but for whatever reason decided it wouldn’t be worth her time to argue with Rynn. “They said that they are not comfortable with our odds of success if the suit is left out in the open and in play. They feel it is one of the artifacts that they will go after.”

  They. Oh shit. “This is part of your supernatural war, isn’t it?”

  Rynn inclined his head, but he kept his eyes on Lady Siyu. To her he said, “You swore you wouldn’t involve Alix in any political negotiations.”

  “Mr. Kurosawa agreed to try, and unfortunately we no longer have that luxury. In any case, the decision was taken out of our hands, as they specifically requested her.”

  All because of that damn spell book. Oh, Carpe was going to hear a hell of a lot about this, like why there hadn’t been any goddamned warning.r />
  Rynn took the folder from my hands and began perusing the contents. “They’ve cobbled these together from their archives,” he said after a cursory glance. “Where did they get the idea?” he asked Lady Siyu. “They weren’t looking for this ten years ago, even a hundred years ago.” Rynn turned his attention back to me. I couldn’t shake the feeling I was a ball in a tennis court. . . .

  “The elves don’t like weapons,” he said to me. “They chase spell books, documents, and artifacts so that they can rot in their archives, but rarely do they chase after weapons. They don’t like the message it sends to other supernaturals.”

  “So what? They leave all the dangerous stuff like the scroll and the City of the Dead for us humans to stumble across?”

  Rynn gave me a wry smile, but before he could add anything Lady Siyu snatched the folder back. “What the incubus forgets is that the elves are the only body of supernaturals capable, let alone interested, in enforcing our laws and keeping an archive. This is the simplest way to end the war and prevent a goblin or troll from ending up on the six o’clock news. Do you know the media storms I’ve already had to put out? Between her fiasco in New Delhi,” she said, pointing at me, “and the minor supernaturals, I’m running night and day trying to keep up with these infractions. Everywhere. Why, yesterday I just had to cover a goblin army raiding a supermarket in broad daylight! Do you have any idea how much manpower that costs? And those are only the opening volleys. This isn’t the Middle Ages where an incident can be contained and written out of history after all the humans are dead. It’s global, even with Mr. Kurosawa’s multimedia company. And now that the IAA has ceased to cooperate—”

  “Whoa, wait a minute. I thought the IAA was supposed to keep the supernatural under wraps?”

  She turned her smile back on me. It wasn’t nice. “I was wondering when your slow brain would finally stumble onto that question. They’ve gone silent in any negotiations we had and will continue to do so until you deliver the video gaming thieves.”

  Oh shit. That was why Lady Siyu didn’t give a shit that the IAA was stepping on Mr. Kurosawa’s toes; they had something she needed. “They’re designers, not thieves.”

  “They did not use that word.”

  I shook my head. “But they really weren’t thieves.”

  “It does not matter!” Lady Siyu screamed and stamped her foot. I backed up.

  “Look, if getting the IAA back in whatever negotiations you have is the problem, I’m close to finding them.” Hell would freeze over before I handed them over to the IAA, but that was another bridge to cross when I reached those deathly rapids.

  But Lady Siyu shook her head. “The elves are a higher priority. Mr. Kurosawa has deemed it so.”

  Yeah, and if the mercenaries found them while I was off chasing artifacts for the elves . . . Something occurred to me. “Wait, isn’t the other side, the supernaturals who want to come out of the closet, already breaking the rules?” They both turned to look at me. “If the elves are neutral and capable of enforcing laws, shouldn’t they be dealing with them?”

  “They like their neutrality more than their precious rules,” Rynn said. “All the elves do is make a declaration that they find something unappealing—empty threats. Unless, that is, you’re a low-powered supernatural and make a minor infraction. Then they throw the rulebook at you because it’s easy and makes them look like they’re doing something. Anything important or dangerous? That might actually piss someone off who might decide to eat a few elves.”

  My God, the more I learned about supernatural politics, the more they mirrored our international ones.

  “So they hand out parking tickets and leave all the real weapons and battles for everyone else to deal with?”

  “Now you see the problem with fucking elves,” he said, directing the last bit at Lady Siyu.

  Lady Siyu stamped her heel loud enough I was surprised it didn’t crack. “They’ve agreed to throw in the full support of all their governed people and political influence if we retrieve the suit for them,” Lady Siyu said, sounding more and more desperate.

  That made Rynn pause. A tense silence settled onto the casino floor.

  “What does that mean?” I said, acutely aware how loud my voice sounded.

  Rynn broke his stalemate with Lady Siyu. “It means they are bound to the gesture, the intention of the deal, not what’s on paper. The only other times elves have actually had to get their hands dirty and fight was under a similar accord, which I imagine Lady Siyu and Mr. Kurosawa know.”

  “Regardless of their neutrality, if the elves throw in their support,” Lady Siyu continued, “it will mean an end to the war. Immediately. No more fighting, no more disobedience.”

  But Rynn didn’t look convinced. “The elves specialize in circumventing their deals. They will promise you the world, provided they figure they can squirm their way out of getting their hands dirty later. Trust me. I know.”

  “But you are in agreement?” Lady Siyu said, letting enough hope into her voice that I knew she had to be under stress.

  Rynn inclined his head. “No, but I don’t see that we have much choice, since you’ve already signed the paperwork. But this?” he said, pointing to the folder holding the sparse information on the suit. “This just means they’re already hiding something. They have new information; they must have, to go after something dangerous like this.”

  Wait a minute. New information in the hands of the elves? Shit. “Could it have anything to do with the spell book?” Carpe had said it was a matter of life and death—he just hadn’t elaborated on whose. . . .

  Rynn hedged his answer. “It is a distinct possibility. It’s a spell book. Elves deal mostly with magic so them wanting it isn’t out of the ordinary, but there might be something inside that’s made the suit more ­appealing—like how to dismantle it so no one would bother trying to take it, or something that could alter what the suit does.”

  Or use it for their own gain. I don’t care how antiviolent the elves claimed to be; they weren’t getting me to chase after an ancient suit because they wanted to give power away. I’d dealt with enough bureaucrats over the years to know they lusted after power as easily as the next tyrant or dictator—more so, considering attacking people from behind a wall of paper is easier.

  “Regardless of the elves’ motivations, it’s too late now. The deal has already been struck.”

  Rynn shook his head. “That may be, but I’m vetoing Alix’s involvement in the entire thing,” he said.

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  Rynn closed in on Lady Siyu until he was staring down at her. “Try me,” he said.

  I watched as Lady Siyu licked her lips with a forked tongue. “Fine, I’ll agree to your terms,” Lady Siyu said.

  Rynn gave her a wary once-over. “Everything?”

  “Everything,” she said between clenched teeth.

  Rynn held out his hand. Lady Siyu, looking none too happy, removed a pen from her bag. She stabbed Rynn’s hand and red blood flowed out. The tip of the pen sucked it up before it could spill on the tiled floor. She strode over to the bar and removed a clipboard. She brought it back and handed it to Rynn, and before my eyes, black ink appeared on the page, though I couldn’t read it. “The terms are as you stated earlier.”

  Without looking at Lady Siyu or me, Rynn signed.

  Lady Siyu snapped her fingers. A door clicked open somewhere in the back and a man with tattoos of a dragon covering half his face stepped out. He was dressed in an expensive suit; one of Mr. Kurosawa’s kami servants. He was carrying something that looked suspiciously like a cat carrier. It—or whatever was in the carrier—let out a baleful howl. Mr. Kurosawa’s goon didn’t slow his stride, but I did note he held the carrier farther away from his suit.

  “Captain?” I said, my voice breaking.

  On hearing my voice the howls amplified, coming
in faster bursts.

  “Congratulations,” Lady Siyu said, her voice dripping with dry condescension. “Your demon spawn cat.”

  The goon handed me the carrier. Captain, scenting me in the air, let out an inquisitive chirp and began digging at the mesh. I couldn’t believe it—after an entire month of pestering and insulting Lady Siyu, I had my cat back.

  I clutched the carrier tight. “What’s the catch?”

  “There is no catch. The incubus bartered your cat back. More’s the pity. If he’s half as right about the elves and this suit of armor, none of you will live to enjoy it.” Without another word, Lady Siyu spun on her heels and headed back into the darkened casino, the goon close on her heels.

  “Come on, Alix, we’re leaving,” Rynn said.

  Hand on the small of my back, he started to steer me through the maze.

  “Incubus?” Lady Siyu’s voice rang out through the hall, echoing off the slot machines. A few of them began to chime at the sound of her voice, and those nearest me began shooting out gold coins. I backed up, not wanting them to touch my feet.

  Lady Siyu stood at the very back of the casino, backlit by red Exit lights and what looked like smoke trailing around her. Intentional, I imagined.

  “Just remember, she needs to deliver.” And with one last flash of her fangs, the smoke engulfed her.

  I shook my head and held the carrier tight, despite Captain’s struggling to get out now that he sensed freedom. “She likes to torment me.”

  “She likes to torment everyone, she’s a Naga. They hold grudges.”

  I kept close on Rynn’s heels out of the maze. It wasn’t until we reached the elevator that I mustered the willpower to break the silence.

  “Rynn?”

  He didn’t say anything, didn’t look at me—just pushed the button to the elevator. I grabbed him by the shoulder and made him turn around.

  “What did you do?”

  I watched as he chose his answer. “Nothing I hadn’t already been willing to agree to. This just gave me an opportunity to negotiate the terms.” We rode the elevator upstairs in silence—except for Captain, who still wanted out of his carrier.