by Danny Bell
“Well, screw her!” Ann yelled with a sudden fit of anger. “Let her try some shit. You got a posse now, and some of us have magic and arrows. We’ll kick her ass.”
I didn’t think it would be as simple as that, but I didn’t want to kill Ann’s enthusiasm now that we were on the other side of a pretty heavy conversation. “Damn right,” I said. “Ready to get back to it?”
The moment we walked back in, Claire and Jason stopped whatever conversation they’d been having about whatever was on the laptop screen to ask Ann if she was okay. She dismissed them with a self-deprecating joke that didn’t land but got the point across well enough. Ann had already had one long and heart-wrenching chat, and she wasn’t looking for another.
God, I was so ready to be mad at her—her and Chalsarda both, but I just couldn’t bring myself to it. I’ve had to deal with more than my fair share of heartbreak, pain, and disappointment over these past couple of years, and it just wasn’t in me to kick a friend while they were down.
Speaking of coming down, Olivia was still on the roof and had managed to miss the excitement. I’d tell her about Kate later, I’d already piled enough crap on her plate for one day and, with any luck, Kate wouldn’t be an immediate problem. Kate’s magical, or at least magically inclined, and I was betting on her recognizing that the storm clouds weren’t natural and that she wouldn’t like what they would portend. Or maybe she’s stupid and I had two problems, but I really didn’t think so.
“So, I have something,” Jason said, then, with waning confidence, added, “Well, maybe something, maybe nothing, you’ll probably know better.”
“Whatcha got, buddy?” I asked, moving to look at his screen.
“Was this what you were after earlier?”
An image on the screen showed a poor imitation of what I tried to steal at the docks.
“Not quite, but close,” I said with a shrug.
“A replica,” Jason replied, and I could already hear that slight uptick in his voice when he was excited about something. “So, what you’re after is one of Japan’s three sacred treasures, and it’s not a plate, it’s a mirror. I mean, it looks like a plate, but maybe it’s dirty? But yeah! Anyway! The treasures all have their roots in mythology, which I mean, can you imagine the panic all the archeologists and professors would have if they learned these stories were probably real?”
“Yeah man, cats and dogs living together, mass hysteria, try to focus.”
Jason winced a little. “Sorry, anyway, one of the treasures is a gem, and that one is locked up tight in the imperial palace in Tokyo, and that’s literally the least rare of the three. After that is a sword that like, no one is even sure about. A couple hundred years ago, a monk accidentally saw it and was banished, then never heard from again. People can only guess where it’s at, if it’s even around at all. You want to know something really, really weird?”
Jason was clearly excited and, as long as he was getting somewhere, I didn’t mind keeping his spirits high. “Always, of course, yes. Weird is my jam.”
“In 1989, Emperor Akihito was given a box containing the sword, and he never freaking opened it!” Jason’s face lit up like he just cracked the case, whatever the case was.
“Super weird,” I agreed.
“Right?” Jason continued. “You’re basically the biggest big shot in Japan, someone gives you what is basically Japanese Excalibur, except not really. I mean, it’s a legendary sword, yeah, but the stories are totally different, so it’s more like—”
“Cats and dogs living together,” I interjected.
“Right. Sorry. Bestest sword for the biggest shot, and he never unwraps the present. What the heck!”
“What the heck, indeed,” I said, already forming a reasonably good reason in my head. If the gods are real, Emperors are at absolute best, middle management by comparison.
“Which brings me to your mirror,” Jason said.
“Or plate,” I added unhelpfully.
“Sure, or plate, but it’s totally a mirror,” he replied. “That one is so rare that even a replica making an appearance is a huge deal. Even then, no one for sure knows what the plate looks like, so the replicas are just artist interpretations. It’s said that even the emperor has never seen it.”
And I have. Awesome. Freyja wasn’t just setting me up to borrow a bit of history, she was risking a catastrophe. If something happened to this artifact, it would be on par with the Buddhas of Bamiyan or the Library of Alexandria. “So then what was it doing here?”
“The real one?” Jason asked. “Not a clue, but there’s supposed to a big wig function tomorrow night at the downtown Doubletree, where the replica was supposed to be shown by the Japanese American National Museum. It’s a whole thing with dinner, and a silent auction, and stuff.”
Jason broke out into a grin as wide as a city street and, with an awkward chuckle, added, “What happened? Was the Best Western all booked?”
Claire’s sigh was audible even over the clang of the dishes she was taking care of. “You’re letting your transplant-ness show again. Show of hands who’s had a drink at the Kyoto gardens.”
Olivia walked back into the shop just then and proclaimed, “Roof’s sticky.”
Everyone but Jason raised their hand and he blushed instantly, defensively asking, “So the Doubletree is a Japanese landmark and no one invited me?”
“Y’all talking about that rooftop garden?” Olivia asked, taking the ladder into the backroom.
“See?” I pointedly asked. “You gotta go sometime, there’s a lot you haven’t seen in the city. And not really a landmark, it just used to be the Kyoto Hotel, Doubletree bought it, and this crazy garden was on the roof. Look it up on Yelp or something.”
Jason furrowed his brow at that, opened a new browser tab, and looked up the gardens. The sternness on his face was replaced with awe. “Oh wow, that’s really pretty! Probably a good date spot.”
“When was the last time you went on a date?” I asked without thinking.
“When was the last time you went on a date?” he countered.
I shrugged. “No time for love, Doctor Jones.”
Jason shook his head in frustration. “Okay, yeah, it’s a pretty garden, but why not just host something like this at the museum?”
I felt a grin of my own. “Are you asking because…it belongs in a museum?”
“So do you!” he exclaimed.
“Nice,” I said, offering him a high five.
Jason accepted it and said, “No, but really, why show something like this off at a hotel?”
“I don’t know, but it has to be connected, right?” I asked. Then, after a moment of silence, I addressed the room. “No, seriously, I’m asking. Like, I think it has to be connected, but am I wrong or…?” There was a consensus of murmured agreements that it, in fact, did have to be connected.
“Wait a second,” Jason said sharply. “Is that Logan’s dad?”
“Where?” Olivia spoke up, moving to the computer. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s his name, he’s a VIP donor? I didn’t think he had the kind of money to be a VIP anything. He couldn’t hold court with the Burger King, why’s he giving out stacks to an art installation?”
“This is good, right?” Ann asked. “Maybe you can call and ask him about it.”
Olivia shook her head. “His parents haven’t talked to me in a while, they’re pretty upset actually. They blame me for Logan being missing, they’ve said as much. They didn’t really ever like me to begin with, but now it’s a lot worse. I have to play dumb, no matter how mad they get or how much they hate me. It sucks, I can’t tell them the truth, but I don’t know if what they’re thinking is better or worse than what they imagine.”
I felt a quick pang in my chest hearing that, but I tried to suppress it. “I won’t ask you to get involved with his family, it’s okay,” I said instead. “But we still have to piece this together, and we don’t have any other way into this event.”
“I might have an idea,”
Ann added. “It’s going to get me in all hell of trouble, but it’s an idea.”
“I’m all ears at this point, what are you thinking?” I asked.
Ann smiled devilishly. “How would you like to meet a witch?”
Chapter Thirteen
“I thought you said she was a witch?” I asked drolly, staring at a smattering of window messages over the big hanging sign of the so-called witch’s shop. The Gem and the Moon apparently sold, amongst other things, holistic remedies and metaphysical supplies, whatever the hell those were supposed to be. Also books, but I’d thank them to stay out of my line of work. Signs in the window advertised palm, tea, and tarot readings, though I wasn’t sure why they couldn’t just pick one and stick with it. Maybe when you pay for real estate on a place like the Venice boardwalk, you sell whatever you can.
“I mean, close enough,” Ann replied, moving slightly to avoid being knocked over by a hurried tourist. People all over the city seemed to be panicking early on at the oncoming storm, but when the rain didn’t materialize right away, some of that fear seemed to have abated. Or at least it did here in Venice Beach. The boardwalk was as packed as ever and, if anything, the weather had given everyone a reason down here to party. The bars were loud and packed, and their patrons spilled into the walking areas. Sometimes literally. The smell of marijuana was unusually strong, but if there was one place in L.A. where folks would be openly smoking, that was it. Even the various street performers didn’t pack it in; so, if you were looking for a juggler or a guy to hammer a nail into his sinuses for tips, that would be your place to be.
For her part, Ann didn’t seem to be a fan of the crowd, and I didn’t blame her. We eventually gave up trying to park in the area and took a Lyft in from Mar Vista since it was that or we had to pay twenty-five bucks for a lot. Still, I was trying to keep the faith that this trip was worth it given how close we were to the deadline now. “Well, what’s with all the woo junk?” I asked.
“Kind of the perfect cover, right?” Ann asked excitedly. “Who is the last person you expect to know real magic?
“Someone selling healing crystals and spirit candles or whatever,” I said nodding. “All right, I get it, good stuff.”
I began to walk toward the front door, but Ann put a hand in front of me and stepped forward to stop me. “Hey, uh, one thing we need to talk about before we go inside.”
“What is it? Something in my teeth?”
“No, I mean, yeah, but who cares?” Ann muttered, causing me to unconsciously rub my tongue over my teeth. “No, it’s that she doesn’t like you. Like, at all.”
“What?” I wasn’t even hurt, just confused. “How? Why? She’s never even met me.”
“No, but she’s heard about you and, apparently, you’re a bad influence on me,” Ann replied. “Oh, and I wasn’t supposed to bring you here. Something about how everywhere you go winds up on fire.”
“I almost never set places on fire!” I protested.
“Well, there’s that flame tower,” Ann recalled. “And all those cars in Van Nuys—”
“Those weren’t on fire. Well, some of them caught on fire. Whatever. Are we going in or what?”
Ann shrugged. “Hey, I’m just trying to warn you.”
“Well, consider me warned.” I scoffed.
Ann made an “after you” gesture and I led the way inside, past a wall of beads. I was surprised by the number of people already inside and shopping. Directing traffic in the middle of it all was a curvy, sunny woman with long, braided blonde hair, covered in about twenty-two layers of clothing and showing off more jewelry and piercings than I’d ever seen on an entire room full of people. She may not have liked me, but I had to admit that I liked her style.
She greeted us without looking up. “Bright blessings! Be right with you!”
“Wilma?” I asked, and the woman looked at us and scowled briefly before smiling again.
“I’m afraid not, child. I am Ariadne, and I’ll be with you in a moment.”
Ann tugged at the sleeve of my coat and whispered to me, “I forgot, we’re not supposed to call her Wilma around normies.”
Well, that explained the scowl.
Wilma made us wait a good half an hour until the other customers cleared out before she locked the doors and turned us. “You’re on sorting duty for a week for this,” Wilma said to Ann before addressing me, no longer sunny. “And you may or may not know better, but I don’t want you here.”
“Yeah, I heard.” My voice rose defiantly. “But…you know, I had something for this.”
“Great first impression, very clever.” Wilma rolled her eyes. “Let me get a look at you.”
While I searched my brain for my comeback, Wilma circled me and took a mental inventory. “This is very nice,” she started, running a hand over my coat. “The gloves, less so. You’re likely to shatter your wrist with those or at least give yourself carpal tunnel. Let me guess, the coat was your first project, so you put more care into it, but you lost patience with the gloves?”
“Actually, my first project was a bracelet,” I countered knowingly, pantomiming a flame tower.
“I see,” she replied dismissively. “And why haven’t you made anything for your friends?”
“Oh! She tried.” Ann perked up. “But—”
“But they don’t work for anyone but her,” Wilma finished. “I could tell, the work is sloppy, nothing compared to Ann’s spellbook, but this isn’t all you have on you, is it? What’s in the bag?”
“Nunya,” I replied and, if not for the fact that I knew this was a friend to Chalsarda and Ann, I would’ve added the word “business” and walked out by now. I was getting real predator vibes here.
“Elana, this is her shop,” Ann whispered. “Be nice.”
Wilma met my eyes and held my gaze, waiting for me to make a move. “Fine,” I relented, taking out my rod. Wilma’s eyes grew and betrayed her with a sense of genuine shock.
“Is that it?” Wilma asked coolly, but it was too late. I knew she was impressed.
“Yeah, that’s it,” I replied.
Wilma didn’t hesitate. “Liar.”
“She has a lie-detecting talisman,” Ann added.
“Then let me clarify,” I said louder than strictly necessary, putting the rod back in my bag. “That’s all you’re going to see. Now, are we going to talk about saving the city or what?”
“Show some respect,” Wilma snapped. “This is still my shop and you are an unwelcome visitor in it!”
“And your shop is on the beach and probably going to get flooded first if I don’t save the day,” I said, stepping uncomfortably close to her. “So, maybe you show me some respect first if you want it so badly.”
“This is your friend?” Wilma asked, looking past me. “And you’re surprised I didn’t want her here?”
“Both of you knocked it off!” Ann said, gathering as much courage as she could. “Yeah, you’re my boss, but holy shit, what the hell? Elana wouldn’t be here if it weren’t bad, so can we all just pull it together?”
“Yeah, I—” I began, but Ann cut me off as well.
“Dude, you too,” she said in a huff. “Maybe be a little nicer to someone at their place of business. Jesus H, what are you thinking? Since when are you a bully?”
“I’m not a bully!” I exclaimed in genuine shock. I hate bullies!
“You just said her shop would be underwater if she didn’t show you some respect.”
I didn’t say it quite like that, but I let it go. “You’re right, I apologize.”
“And you should, but I don’t,” Wilma said. “I stand by what I said, and I don’t need you wrecking my business. Now I’ll listen to what you have to say because a couple of people I call my friends vouched for you for some dumb reason, but if I had to take a guess, I’d say these storm clouds are your fault.”
I felt my mouth drop open. “How could you—?”
“You said it when you couldn’t hold your temper earlier, had to thr
ow your weight around,” Wilma interrupted. “If you don’t save the day, we’d best be on an ark, right?”
“Well, yeah,” I hesitantly agreed.
“And I know who you work for and what kind of hell you’ve raised before, so I’m listening,” she concluded. “Go on, Elana, and tell me what you screwed up this time.”
I sucked in a breath to keep myself from losing it on this walnut. “You kind of suck, don’t you?”
“Child, I don’t suck, as you put it, I am just old and have no patience for the arrogance of youth.” She sighed.
“Ann, maybe you start us off, I gotta tag out for a second,” I said wearily.
“Sure, Elana tried to steal one of the three sacred treasures of Japan from Susano-o for Freyja and now it’s missing, so he’s going to flood the city until she finds it. Oh, and there’s a snake monster. Back to you, Elana.”
“Thanks for the break, buddy.” I didn’t know if she caught the sarcasm or not. “You’re doing terrific.”
The second dose did the trick and she smacked my shoulder as if to tag me back in. “I mean, that’s the gist, why don’t you look surprised?”
“Because I’m not,” Wilma replied. “You get in bed with gods and nothing is too far. You goddamn kids, you don’t think ahead. You’re what? Twenty-five?”
“Twenty-six.”
“So quick to get in over your heads, and you always die so young,” Wilma said almost to herself. “So, what are you two expecting from me? I’m not a fighter, so don’t expect me to get involved like that.”
“Guidance, maybe,” Ann chimed in. “We have a lead, there’s supposed to be some big charity and auction dinner at the Kyoto gardens—”
Wilma cut her off harshly. “You want my guidance? Stay away from that event.”
“We can’t just sit out of something like—”
“Not what I’m saying, Ann. I’ve supplied half a dozen top-shelf glamours for very powerful individuals for that event. You have no business there, trust me.”
