Owl and the Electric Samurai

by Kristi Charish

  I waited for them to say anything, but all they did was secure my suite; the two who weren’t holding me at gunpoint went from room to room. I let them. Always good to cooperate when the people holding guns weren’t hitting me.

  They found a couple of the weapons Rynn kept lying around, though I highly doubted that was all of them.

  They should have said something by now. “Look, guys, isn’t this the part where you talk and start making demands?”

  They ignored me as one of the ones who’d searched my suite spoke into his radio, in English this time. “Secured the objective. Stand by to transport.”

  Objective? Wait a minute, the only thing they’d secured was me. Damn it, the IAA really was serious about handing me over to the ­mercenaries—apparently first come, first served.

  “You’re making a huge mistake—” I tried.

  The one who spoke English—a large man over six feet tall—glanced at me this time. “There is no mistake,” he said in a gruff voice, showing me his phone screen—a picture of my face with a lot of Spanish below it. “You are the rogue archaeologist we are being paid to retrieve.”

  “Rogue archaeologist? Is that what they told you?” From the way the others deferred to him, I was betting he was the one in charge. “Look, dude, I hope they told you more than that—”

  I was cut off by one of the subordinates still holding a gun on me. I didn’t catch all of it; it was a Paraguay accent, one I wasn’t as familiar with, but I understood “incommunicado.” Their partners, or whoever they were supposed to meet up with, had gone silent.

  But they seemed more surprised than they should have been. I mean, this was a casino full of supernaturals. It dawned on me . . .

  “Dude, I hope the IAA told you more about this place than there was a rogue archaeologist inside.”

  “You’re a thief,” the one I figured was in charge said, as the others tried again to bring up their mercenary friends. “Antiquities, specialized.”

  They didn’t realize who this casino belonged to . . . or, more importantly, what this casino belonged to.

  Oh man, it was going to be a bad day for these guys.

  I tensed as he began rifling through the folders that had spilled onto the floor. I was acutely aware of the two journals under my shirt.

  More attempts to raise their friends led to a heated exchange.

  “Look, I really think you guys are firing a few puzzle pieces short—”

  “Quiet, and turn around. Slowly put your hands on your head or they shoot your cat,” the one in charge spat at me before nodding at his two companions, still training their guns on me.

  I did as they asked and placed Captain on the carpet, grateful that he didn’t bolt. Then slowly, like the man said, I put my hands on my head. Maybe I could still talk some sense into them. “Look, there’s still time to leave now and chalk this up to a big misunderstanding . . .” I started.

  One of the guards behind me hissed. Still, I kept going. These guys might be assholes, but much like me, they were on someone’s payroll. The longer this went on, the worse it was going to be for them. “I’m offering you guys a freebie here—”

  “We can handle an incubus,” the one behind me said, pushing the barrel into my lower back.

  So they did know there were supernaturals in here. Still . . . “That’s really not the one you need to be worried about. Didn’t you guys wonder why the Zebras are sitting things out in a hotel at the end of the strip, drinking beer?”

  “Cowards,” one of the two behind me spat in heavily accented ­English—the one on my right, who hadn’t spoken until now. “Lazy, waiting to see what you’ll do next. We’d rather take the money now from under them.”

  Oh man. Greed and arrogance were the true downfall of people every­where.

  The rattle of a snake’s tail sounded from somewhere down the hall. Another nervous look exchanged between the mercenaries.

  I craned my neck until I was facing the one holding me. “Tell me, did you gas a Japanese woman on your way in? Expensive heels, designer suit, red lipstick and nails—hard to miss?”

  One of them snickered.

  “Because if you guys did, I so can’t help you.”

  The sound of a rattle grew louder. The three other mercenaries in the room stopped in their tracks and looked at each other. Sometimes there really wasn’t anything I could do to save other people from their own stupidity.

  The gun jabbed between my shoulder blades, making me stumble forward. “What trick is this?” Captain started sniffing the air and let out a quiet growl from where he was crouched by my feet.

  “No trick.” Another shove.

  I heard the hiss of green-gold leather scales sliding against the expensive carpet, and I licked the nervous sweat from my lip. Not that I was huge on the idea of handing a couple humans over to Lady Siyu to chew on, but at some point I had to pick my moral battles. The question was would she take these guys out before or after they got nervous enough to fire the guns.

  Hands still on my head, I turned around and looked the mercenaries in the eyes—the only part of their faces that showed through the masks. “The IAA, your boss—whoever told you I was here? They must have it in for you, because they didn’t tell you the most important thing.”

  They exchanged another glance as a louder hiss sounded through the hall, as if emanating from the walls themselves. The mercenary in the hall shouted a warning.

  Once they had me outside the casino . . . I needed to stall. “Don’t get me wrong,” I said, “the incubus is scary and is probably going to hurt you really badly.”

  “Quiet,” the mercenary said. He motioned for the two men to grab me, and the four of them, towing me, exited into the hall to join the fifth, who’d been on lookout. Taking point down the hall, each on edge, they picked up their gait, heading for the elevator.

  I searched the smoke for Lady Siyu, but where there’d been the sound of her scales a moment before, now there was nothing.

  I flinched as something wet dripped on my face. For a second I thought it was sweat, but sweat didn’t burn. I glanced up as cautiously as I could.

  Suspended on the ceiling of the hall, blended in with the gold-and-green baroque wallpaper, was Lady Siyu. She was Naga’d out, fangs extended and not a trace of her human guise remaining.

  Whatever you do, Owl, under no circumstances are you to lick your lips. “So I’m curious; what does the mercenary handbook say about strolling into a dragon’s lair?” I asked.

  That got their attention. “Dragon?” one of them said.

  “She’s lying, there’s no dragon.”

  I watched the numbered light move. The elevator would be here in a few more floors. Lady Siyu better hurry up . . .

  I saw the glint of gold-green scales as she moved above me, closer to the mercenaries. I figured that was all the warning I was going to get. I made ready to jump. “Good news! You’re about to become the cautionary tale.”

  The elevator chimed its arrival, and I dove out of the way as Lady Siyu dropped from the ceiling, taking out three of the mercenaries before they could retrain their guns, and knocking out at least one for the long haul. She moved like lightning after that, immobilizing the other two with her teeth while they were still on the ground.

  Two left standing. Unfortunately, they were positioned in a way that made it impossible for her to take them out in one shot, even with her speed and the added length of her tail.

  She went for the sure thing—the last lackey standing closest to her.

  Time for Owl to exit stage left. I started to crawl toward the now-open elevator. Something grabbed my foot. They didn’t let go. It was the remaining mercenary. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll run,” I shouted, aiming a kick at his face.

  Whether it was pride or panic, he wasn’t listening. Before I could deliver another
kick to his face, he had me around the waist and positioned as a shield.

  “That was about the stupidest—” I began. He jostled me to shut up.

  Lady Siyu had finished with the other mercenary, and she hissed, turning on the remaining member of the group. “Stay back,” he shouted.

  I caught a glint in Lady Siyu’s eyes.

  Yeah . . . nuts to seeing just how far “accidents” got tolerated in the Japanese Circus.

  I threw my weight into my hip and tried one of the throws Rynn had shown me. In theory, when I pushed my hip back and threw, my opponent was supposed to sail over my shoulder and fall flat on his back, splayed out. It hurt. I should know; Rynn had shown me enough times before I’d figured out the break fall part.

  In practice, my hips went back and hit something akin to a brick house. I’d like to think I knocked the wind out of him, but that was being generous.

  Well, on to tried-and-true methods.

  I kicked back and up between his legs—hard. He didn’t yell or scream, but there was an audible exhale of breath. I don’t care how well trained you are as a mercenary; a well-trained kick to the groin loosens any man’s grip.

  It wasn’t much of a gap, but it was enough. I stamped on his foot and got myself a little more space—enough to slide out.

  He was blocking the elevator, so I turned and ran for the exit door, slamming into it before taking the stairs up, two at a time.

  There was an inhuman shriek behind me, Lady Siyu I presumed, followed by another bang at the exit door. I sped up even as my legs and lungs protested, taking three steps at a time instead of two. Ankles don’t fail me now.

  I could hear the heavy boots behind me. He wasn’t taking the stairs quite as recklessly as I was, but I had no doubts my cardio would give out before his did.

  I rounded the corner and saw the twenty-third-floor door ahead of me—Mr. Kurosawa’s floor.

  I hesitated, but only for a second. I ducked as a bullet struck the cement above me. Didn’t have time for smart plans—I threw myself into the door as hard as I could, then spilled onto the bloodred carpets and bolted for the massive black-and-gold doors. Please be open, please be open.

  I threw myself into the doors. I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been for them to swing open to the maze. Either Mr. Kurosawa knew what I was about to do, or the ghosts figured another pansy was about to join their ranks; as if in anticipation, the slot machines were silent for once, not even their lights flickering in the dark.

  I heard the bang of a door behind me. Let’s hope the ghosts and dragon were feeling altruistic today. I ran for the nearest set of machines, but something Rynn had told me over and over again made me skid to a stop short of the dark marble tiles that denoted the start of the maze itself: “Never go in on your own.”

  Something told me that was not the rule to push today, so I searched for somewhere short of the maze to hide. One of the machines off to the side, a 1970s-era slot machine, started to chime and spew coins on the floor. I hoped that was a ghost’s way of offering me an alternative. . . .

  I slid behind the machine as the black doors swung open once again.

  I didn’t dare peek, but I did listen as the heavy boots slowed.

  I quieted my breath.

  “I’ll give you the snake lady was a surprise,” he called out as he made his way around the front of the casino, “though I still don’t believe in your dragon nonsense.” He spit on the black floors, as if punctuating the statement.

  I listened to his footsteps and wondered if he’d stopped short of the dark, smoky tiles. Some instinct telling him not to continue forward.

  Another step . . .

  It would be so easy, so easy to just let him disappear into the maze. He’d been shooting at me—with bullets—and they’d been about to kidnap me. I jumped as a slot machine behind me spit out a single gold coin, of a denomination I didn’t recognize. Nothing loud enough to attract the mercenary’s attention, but enough to get its warning across.

  I swore under my breath. “I really hate my morals sometimes,” I whispered to it. I hoped the echo in this place would hide my location . . .

  “Don’t step on the dark tiles,” I shouted. “Just put your weapon down and surrender.” I swore, covering my head as gunfire sounded around me. A number of slot machines began to chime and spew coins. When the gunfire stopped and I wasn’t dead, I continued. “If you thought the Naga and the incubus were bad, you haven’t seen anything yet.” This time though my voice didn’t come from where I was. It twisted, as if coming from the depths of the maze itself.

  “You’re in there? Aren’t you? Hiding.” The mercenary made a derisive noise and spit on the floor again. “You can’t fool me with your ghost stories.”

  As if that was a cue, one of the machines in the maze began to chime. Others followed, until there was a veritable path of lights and sound leading into the slot machine maze’s heart.

  “You can’t cover your tracks with sounds, thief. I know exactly where you are!” he called out. Over the noise I heard the fall of his footsteps as he stepped over the line of smoky marble.

  The maze went silent, and a few heartbeats later I heard the shout, then the bloodcurdling scream. I plugged my ears and closed my eyes. Damn it, this wasn’t what I wanted. But there were only so many things you could do to save someone.

  Still, it never sits well with me. Stupidity gets you dead, but it’s awful final. Call me sentimental, but I’d rather see people learn from their mistakes. Not die from them.

  The slot machines were silent once more, and through my plugged ears I heard the familiar click of heels against the tiles. I frowned. I hadn’t heard the doors open again. I peeked around the slot machine.

  Back to human form, Lady Siyu strode out of the maze at a leisurely pace, her eyes bright snake yellow and fixating on me as the click of her heels beat out a sinister tempo.

  She might be human again, but she hadn’t bothered to hide the blood that now covered her face and her suit. And she was dragging the mercenary behind her as if he’d been a feather doll, not a six-foot grown man.

  “I never thought I’d live to say this, but am I ever glad to see you—” I started.

  Lady Siyu hissed. “The feeling is fortunately not mutual,” she said. She stepped onto the white tiled foyer and deposited the mercenary none too gently, before beginning to prod him with her foot and sniff at the air above him. She then turned her yellow snake gaze on me. “Wonders do not cease.”

  “What? That I didn’t end up dead?” I said, scrambling out of my hiding site. “It happens, you know—”

  “That you managed to execute a halfway decent strategy. Luring him into the maze and then pleading with him not to enter.” She gave me a reappraising look. “Wonders never cease, thief. I am impressed.”

  A pit formed in my stomach. Lady Siyu thinking I’d planned to lure him into the maze was worse than the fact that I hadn’t managed to convince him not to. Much worse.

  Lady Siyu picked the mercenary up by the collar and continued to drag him toward the exit.

  “Come,” she shouted over her shoulder when I didn’t immediately move.

  “For what?”

  She glared.

  “I mean, not me . . . I know why you don’t want me in here—” Owl, stop babbling. “Where are you taking him?” I asked instead.

  Her red lacquered lips parted in a smile—the first one I had ever seen, I think. As vicious and cold as she was. “Why, so he can be questioned, of course,” she said, and pushed open the massive doors.

  And of course I’d been stupid enough to ask. Without asking I could have fooled myself into thinking they just tossed them out on the curb.

  Okay, probably not that, but you’d be surprised what my imagination can come up with under stress.

  I followed. I could lie and
say I didn’t have any option, and it was mostly true if you took out “death by angry Naga” as an option. But in all honesty? Like I said—some days you had to pick which moral battles to fight. Some of my brain wanted to fight out of principle, but mostly it decided that this wasn’t the one to pick.

  Did that make me a bad person? Days like this, I wasn’t so sure.

  12

  MERCENARIES

  8:00 p.m. The poolside bar at the Japanese Circus Casino

  I stared at my open laptop screen as I sipped my beer, though I’d be lying if I said I was concentrating on the files I had open on Jebe.

  A message box popped up in the corner of my screen. Carpe.

  Hey—I’ve been trying to get you on your phone.

  I’m taking a break. Ask me in another 30 minutes, I wrote back. Not that I planned on answering in thirty minutes; if things went as planned, I’d be too drunk to consider answering my phone . . . or at least turn it back on. See? Forethought.

  I minimized the screen, only to have it pop back up a moment later.

  So . . . you seriously led the guy into the dragon’s maze? That’s harsh, even for you, Byzantine.

  I swore and minimized the screen again, hitting the keys with more force than was specifically necessary. Sometimes I wondered why it was I bothered to be a better person—not when everyone, including Carpe, assumed that every outcome was due to me trying to be an asshole.

  I was getting a deeper and up close understanding of just how hard it was to shake a reputation. The world really sucked sometimes . . . and so did Carpe.

  Ah, screw it. I polished off what was left of my beer and leaned over the bar. I’d seen that bottle of tequila hanging around here somewhere.

  I heard Captain chirp from where he’d managed to make a bed for himself in one of Lady Siyu’s many flower beds.

  “So this is where you got off to. I might have known,” Rynn said before sliding into the seat beside me.