Wilde Child 7

by Jenn Stark

  “’kay.” This part was getting a little woo. I’d never been great at meditation, though I had to say, I’d never tried it with guns before. Chichiro was clearly on to something.

  “Open your eyes beneath my hands, Madam Wilde, but do not lose the image in your mind.”

  “Got it.” I paused a long while, gearing myself up for this. I imagined the guns, their great piles of gleaming hardware. I imagined the detail of the ones closest to me. Slowly, carefully, I eased my eyes open, expecting to see darkness.

  It wasn’t darkness, though. Not exactly. It was…hands. Hands covering my eyes. I could see the rosy outline of Chichiro’s fingers as they eased slightly open.

  “I can see your hands,” I whispered.

  “And the image in your mind? Focus on it while your eyes remain open.”

  I frowned, but that was harder to hold on to. The piles diminished, until there was only one small mound. I imagined myself kneeling over that mound, getting closer, my face right up against the gleaming weapons. That I could keep steady, even as I could see the lines grow more distinct in Chichiro’s hands. She was widening the spaces between her fingers, letting additional light in.

  “It is still there? The image?”

  “Not as clearly,” I admitted. “But it’s there.”

  “I am taking my hand away. You do not need to hold the image in your mind. You simply need to know it is there. That it remains in your mind, your truth beyond space and time, even as you see the world of space and time around you. That it is yours to command. To keep or release as you will. You see it, and it is real, regardless of what else is real.”

  She’d lost me again somewhere around space and time, but I murmured an assent. Mostly I just liked hearing her voice. When she wasn’t poking at my feet, she was very soothing.

  “Close your eyes slightly,” she said, and I narrowed my lids to half-mast.

  Chichiro lifted her hands away, and I slitted my eyes further, shocked at the brightness of the sun. I blinked several times, and realized she was leaning over me, silhouetted in the light, the brightness of her almost terrible to behold after all the darkness. I flinched away, and her smile grew broader, then she finally eased away from me as well.

  “It will take some time, Madam Wilde. But you will learn.”

  “Yeah, well…” I swung my gaze away from her and was immediately accosted by the sight of Ma-Singh. He wasn’t glowing bright white, but he still glowed, energy popping and cracking off him like a live wire. A live red-and-black wire, fierce and proud.

  The men in the background also glowed, but less intensely, their colors blurred and muddy. I was reminded of how I could see when I was in the presence of the Magician, when he turned all the world into a mix of electrical currents. This wasn’t exactly like that, but it wasn’t normal either.

  I glanced back at Chichiro, still lit up like a Christmas tree. “Does this go away?”

  “It can.” She nodded. “I suggest you remain with it a bit, however, become familiar with it. Being able to read the energy signatures of those around you is a helpful skill.”

  My plain old normal eyes widened. “Energy signatures,” I murmured.

  “And there’s more.” She moved completely out of the way, reached down.

  And plucked a gleaming gun from the top of a three-foot pile of weapons.

  She held it out to me, butt first.

  “Something else that might prove helpful, I think you’ll agree.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “No way,” I breathed.

  Ma-Singh looked from me to the guns, his scowl evident even through all his sparkling and snapping energy. “You couldn’t have chosen swords?”

  “Swords don’t take me to my happy place.” I pushed off the blanket, and Chichiro helped me to stand. As I did so, I made another discovery. “Your house! It’s not…”

  She bowed to me, her hands coming together. “I am honored that you remembered it so easily and so well.”

  I had, apparently. Though I’d heard and smelled the fire I’d unleashed in her domain, felt the rage of its heat, there was no apparent damage to the structure anymore. “I erased that?”

  “You manifested a belief so strong, it created a reality in this world that I in turn strengthened,” Chichiro said. “Your belief was required to create. Mine was required to complete. There must be the two halves to make the whole.”

  Chichiro was a powerful Connected, but creating something out of nothing was dangerous, I knew. Incredibly dangerous. “But is it…real? Or will it come crashing down around you tonight after we leave?”

  Her laugh sounded over the mountain, swept away on the breeze. “You tell me,” she said, gesturing to the guns. “Try one.”

  “No. I will try it.” Ma-Singh strode forward and lifted a gun off the top of the pile. He turned and took aim at a far tree, where one branch stretched out awkwardly over a tumble of rocks. He fired, and simultaneously, the branch whipped back, clearly struck.

  He stared down at the gun, then shifted his gaze to me. “You will not handle these, Madam Wilde. We cannot risk it.”

  I shrugged. “I’ve got my own gun.”

  Chichiro spoke again. “The Sight I sought to unmask in you was solely that of seeing others for who they really are. The energy or aura about them. With something of a person’s that possesses their energy signature, you can find that energy again, even in a city of two million people. This is the gift I wished you to have, the ability you needed to unlock above all others.”

  She gestured to the ground. “This was not. It typically takes a great mastery of meditation and focus to manifest any item, and you possess neither. And yet, without effort, you have done what even the most Enlightened cannot do.” Her gaze never left me as she echoed my own thoughts. “It is a dangerous skill, so uncontrolled. You must be very cautious of your gifts.”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” I said. Never had the warning of be careful what you wish for been more apt. “But I needed you to help me complete the circle. It’s not something I could do on my own.”

  To my surprise, Chichiro merely sighed, her gaze lifting to the mountain behind us. “I think we have yet to learn what you can do on your own, Madam Wilde. You must take special care.”

  With another half hour of work—we were totally over my limit, but Chichiro didn’t seem to mind—I was able to shut my unnatural eye and open it. Not easily, but it could be done. Wax on, and the whole world lit up. Wax off, and I could see like a normal person. At last, she pronounced me able to leave, and I could breathe again.

  The journey back to Tokyo was very quiet.

  Ma-Singh sat with his hand cradling one of the guns I’d magically summoned out of my brain, staring out the window. He didn’t seem happy.

  “How are you feeling now?” he asked, glancing over to me. He was as far away as possible on his side of the seat, and I quelled the insane urge of my inner ten-year-old to poke him.

  “I’m…good,” I said, injecting enough hesitation into my voice that his creased brow eased. In fact, I felt outstanding—better than I had in days. While he’d glared at the mountain for the past hour, I’d been playing with my wax-on, wax-off move and checking out the energy signature of the men in the front seat. They hadn’t become any more interesting. Ma-Singh, however, was now an icy blue mixed with black, and I didn’t need my special eyeglasses to figure out that he was battling an enormous fear.

  But fear of me? Or fear for me? I didn’t want to wait to find out.

  “You didn’t think this would happen to me,” I said flatly, waving in the general direction of my eye. “I get the sense that you think it’s a bad thing.”

  He stared over my shoulder a long time before finally bringing his gaze back to me. I flinched as another wave of panic slid across his face.

  “What are you staring at?” I whipped my hand up to my forehead, palpating my skin, but nothing stuck out or came off on my hand. “What is it?”

  “There is
nothing wrong. Not anymore.” The Mongolian sighed deeply, releasing the gun on his lap to bring both hands up to his face. Rubbing his heavy cheeks, he seemed like he’d aged a thousand years in our trip up the mountain.

  “You were blinded, Madam Wilde,” he said. “For that time in Sensei Chichiro-san’s house. You were afraid.”

  I nodded. “But I got better,” I said gently.

  That elicited another weary grimace. “You got better.” He hesitated again, and my curiosity only increased.

  “What is it? The guns? The aura readings? Why are you upset?”

  He lifted his brow. “For neither of those things. You being able to discern what you see more clearly was what Sensei Chichiro had done for Madam Soo, though not to anywhere the level she achieved with you. But of course, your abilities outstrip Madam Soo’s.”

  He touched the barrel of the gun, eyeing it appreciatively. I eyed it too. It was a beautiful replica of mine, and I found myself wondering if it also had the same serial number. That could get complicated. “And as to manifesting guns out of your mind, that is a gift that could serve you well.”

  “Possibly.” I hadn’t taken Chichiro’s warning lightly, though. I could see all sorts of pain coming from bringing ideas to life, like a 3-D printer gone rogue. I knew well enough how guns worked, had taken them apart and put them back together often enough that I had a reasonable certainty that this gun I’d just produced would behave more or less the way it should. But what if I manifested a machine I didn’t fully understand? Or, worse, a creature…or a person?

  The thought made me slightly sick.

  Ma-Singh was watching me with his mournful Mongolian eyes. “But there is more,” he said. “When you were injured in Chichiro’s house, it was as if I was personally attacked.”

  I widened my eyes. That was news. “You went blind?”

  “Not at all. But I was aware of your danger, your pain, your fear. I was driven to act to help alleviate that fear. I was already three feet from the door when the fire started. The explosion of it knocked us all back on our heels, but it wasn’t what spurred me first to action.”

  I didn’t miss his changing use of pronouns. “You were affected by my reactions, but the others weren’t. They only followed your lead and responded to that and the fire, not my fear.”

  “Exactly.” He nodded.

  “They weren’t on the boat with the nails.” I frowned at him. “Wait a minute, you weren’t on the boat. You were only watching over the screen.”

  He grimaced. “You’re correct there as well. I was a witness to your call to arms, but not physically present. I was separated by thousands of miles. And yet…”

  “Well, maybe there’s another explanation. Maybe you just like me a lot.”

  My attempt at levity didn’t seem to assuage his concerns, however. “There is much about you we do not understand, Madam Wilde, and as I learn each new revelation, I am reminded that we are blessed to have you…and that we would be crippled without you.”

  “Aw, I love you too, big guy,” I said, and this time I did reach out, punching him lightly on his arm. Ma-Singh stared at me as if I’d lost my mind, but at least his worry seemed to ease.

  Still, he remained unhappy. “You are departing on a spirit journey, Madam Wilde, one which began with your recovery of the Gods’ Nails. At Sensei Chichiro’s holding, I saw that path curve away from me, curve and grow dark.” He shook his head slightly, his skin ashen. “I could no longer see you—or help you on your journey.”

  “You’ll always be able to help me, Ma-Singh,” I said, my words gentle. “You’ve got enough security on me that I look over my shoulder when I go to the bathroom now. Trust me, I feel protected. I’m safe in your hands. I believe that unequivocally.”

  That seemed to mollify him a little bit, and we continued the rest of the way down the mountain without incident, then onto the private jet waiting for us at Tokyo Haneda Airport. Nigel and Nikki checked in, confirming that there’d been no further attacks on the Revenants, so I contented myself with practicing my magic eyeball skills with the strangers we met on the way to the plane. None of them projected the kind of intense energy of Ma-Singh, which made me wonder if he simply was that much more charismatic…or if it was because I personally knew him…or it was because he’d witnessed the aftermath of my work with the Gods’ Nails. Eventually, I needed to get those artifacts translated, understand their real power.

  Granted, Chichiro had lit up like a glow stick on the mountain, but she was different. She was a powerful Connected. I was beginning to realize that I should consider returning to her too. The idea didn’t make me happy.

  Once we were aboard the plane, however, all thoughts of using my newfound skills were put to rest for the moment. I stared in wonder at the machinery awaiting us in the central cabin, a veritable mission control. “When did we upgrade this plane?” I asked, impressed.

  “This is typically the generals’ transportation.” Ma-Singh slid me a glance. “And Madam Soo’s preferred craft as she grew more involved with the military arm of the House. At the end of her tenure, it was the only jet she would take if possible.”

  I thought about Soo, her almost reckless insistence on traveling into the teeth of trouble…an insistence that had ended up getting her killed. If she was used to traveling with this kind of military and technological might at her fingertips, however, I could see why she felt invincible.

  “What are we tracking?” I gestured to the screens, which were already on and flashing. Apparently, the exhortation to stow all laptops didn’t apply on Air Swords.

  “There has been unusual activity noted in three black market sites: Bangkok, Moscow, Mexico City. New drugs coming in, flooding the market. We’ve acquired several samples, but the demand is excessively high.” He answered my next question before I had to ask it. “It appears the drug is the same that afflicted the children at Father Jerome’s holding, merely less potent. We’re analyzing what few samples we have obtained now.”

  I frowned. “That drug is brand-new. How would people know about it? We didn’t even know about it until last week.”

  “It’s being sold as a beta test of an augment drug, and the interest it’s generating is significant. Claims of reversed diseases, slowed cancers.” He shot me a glance. “Most notably, however, there are reported changes in the skin tone and texture of those who take it. It’s been given the name Fountain.”

  “Fountain.” I stared at him. “As in fountain of youth.” No wonder people were clamoring for it.

  “There are already some issues with its release,” he continued. “Apparent cases of nerve damage. It’s impossible to tell how true that is. Test cases are hard to come by. But that’s the rumor currently running free through the markets. Not slowing down demand, though.”

  “If anyone’s really worried, they’ll find someone to test it on first,” I muttered. “They always do.”

  “Father Jerome is reporting additional issues with the children in his care too.”

  I turned on him. “What are you talking about? What issues?”

  “He can tell you himself.” Ma-Singh tapped his headset, sliding into one of the seats in front of the series of laptops and screens. “He called Nigel not twenty minutes ago, looking for you. Now that we’re aboard, we can open a channel for conversation.”

  “You’re sure we’re secure?” I asked grumpily. Gamon had eavesdropped on a sacred Revenant ceremony, and she’d sent her killers into a church to murder children. Nothing could be safe anymore.

  Ma-Singh slid me a glance. “I don’t know. Are we?”

  I lifted both my brows, but he was right. This should be something I could tell, right along with the energy signatures of the people around me. “Who’s been on this plane recently? Any Council members?”

  “No. Since Madam Soo’s death, it’s been used by generals only, no civilians—and definitely no gods.”

  I grimaced. “They’re not gods. Nobody’s that.”

&nbs
p; I ignored Ma-Singh’s skeptical snort. Instead, I pivoted slowly, searching out the deepest corners of the cabin. With a long, exhaled breath, my third eye fluttered open.

  Immediately, three locations flared with unusual energy. Could it really be that easy? “There,” I said, pointing. “And there and there.”

  Without a word, Ma-Singh went to the corners of the cabin I indicated, finding the devices after a short search. The general scowled down at the small electronic components.

  “This device is Soo’s. It bears her signature,” he said, indicating the largest of the three. “Doubtless spying on her own generals.”

  “Understandable,” I said. “She’d been burned before by people far closer to her.”

  “Agreed.” He held up a second device. “This is identical to House components but is not standard issue. One of the generals, I suspect.” He hesitated. “Probably General Som.”

  “Ah.” General Som and I had recently crossed swords, literally. That hadn’t gone well. “Any way to see if it was still transmitting?”

  “We’ll look into it. But this one, I do not recognize.” He held up a third nondescript device. I stared at it as well, almost ready to shrug it off as another one of Soo’s toys.

  Then I reached for it.

  Ma-Singh handed it over without hesitation, and I held the thing in my hand, looking down at it with my heightened awareness. This wasn’t Soo’s, I realized. It was Simon’s, the Fool of the Arcana Council.

  Energy arced through me, quick and hot, and I dropped the device with a yelp. “Destroy that. It’s a Council bug. Sweep the other planes too.”

  “Council?” Ma-Singh rumbled.

  “Simon or Tesla,” I muttered. “Has to be.”

  Simon and I were friends, after a fashion, but the Hanged Man of the Council, Nikola Tesla, recently returned from the ether, wasn’t a fan.

  Ma-Singh studied the device as he made a call on his headset, and a cabin steward came to collect the device.