Here we go again.
Once again, I've been bitten by the fanfic bug. This particular
piece was originally conceived as a web-comic, and somewhere between
that and its current incarnation changed almost completely. Let me say
a few words before I get started:
Content -- this is an original fic with obvious references to,
well, a great many things. Let it be understood that I own none of
these things, nor intend to infringe on copyright. This fanfic is rated
R for violence, sexual situations, and angst. It takes place in a
universe that is vaguely magical-girl, for reasons that shall become
clear.
Length -- 11 chapters, ~80,000 words.
For anyone who's wondering what happened to End of Days -- I
finished it, hated the ending, and stopped posting it. I plan to
rewrite it one of these days. If anyone absolutely has to see the full
version, let me know and I'll send it to you.
My contact info:
khaine@mindless.com, AIM khaine1310, ICQ 53426521
http://www.bloodgod.com/smgray/index.html
Enough chat. Let there be fanfic.
-----
Cynic
-----
"And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?"
-Shylock
Chapter One
The air parted with a sound like 'whaum', and Kei dropped the
remaining few inches to the carpeted floor. She'd made it back mostly
in one piece -- one hand was pressed against her side, and a pale green,
oily fluid was dripping slowly between her fingers. The air had the
hot, dry feel of magic, and smelled faintly of cinnamon. The floor
underneath was soft with layered carpets, whose ancient patterns were
now soaking up the blood.
[This,] thought Kei, as she ground her teeth together in an effort
to ignore the pain, [is it. This is the last time I follow that
long-haired *lunatic*. No more taking his orders, no more idiot traps.
I'm done.]
It took her a moment to find her voice; teleporting back from the
Timestream was always difficult, and Kei hadn't been in the best of
shape to begin with. It came out as a cynical growl.
"Hello? Lord and master bleeding to death on the doorstep?"
"Lady Kei?" The high, lilting voice came from another room,
divided from the entrance hall by an archway and a curtain. "Are you in
need of assistance?"
"Get your ass out here." Kei grimaced. "And can the 'Lady Kei'
business while you're at it."
Cynthia swept the curtain aside gracefully. She did everything
gracefully, particularly for a girl of sixteen -- she moved as though
her feet didn't actually touch the ground, merely gliding across the
surface. Her silver hair fell loose or tied itself, as the mood
demanded; at the moment it was a glistening metallic sheet down past her
shoulders. All in all, Kei thought, she was quite an impressive piece
of work.
At the moment she was carrying a clean towel in one hand and a
crystal vial of purple liquid in the other. Kei reached out and grabbed
the vial with both hands as soon as her servant was close enough,
gulping it greedily down while Cynthia pressed the towel to her side and
let it soak up the blood. Kei closed her eyes and waited for the
healing draught to take effect, the flesh of her side reknitting where
blades of compressed air had shredded it. Once it was done, she
shivered and let out a long, clean breath.
Cynthia waited patiently with the towel while her mistress climbed
to her feet and brushed out her hair, irritably. Kei looked down at her
uniform and found the black fabric stained with green across the side;
she snapped her fingers with a sigh and let the whole thing dissolve
into nothingness. Naked, she stalked towards the bathroom, her servant
padding silently behind her.
"Fucking Tsuiren," Kei muttered, not really speaking so much as
thinking aloud. It was a bad habit she allowed herself within the
confines of her own domain. "Fuck him and fuck Myrgai too. Who does
she think she's impressing, anyway?"
The bathroom was just that -- a room containing nothing but an
enormous marble bath, tall enough that Kei needed steps to climb over
the side. She tested the water, found it lukewarm, and raised it to the
boiling point with a flick of her little finger. Steam billowed
outward, filling the room. Another half-hearted gesture set the tub to
swirling. Kei settled into the water gingerly, with a noise halfway
between a sigh and a moan.
"Ahhhhh."
Cynthia stood by the side of the tub, waiting as always for some
indication of her mistress's bidding. Over the years, she'd become very
adapted to Kei, and in situations like this she knew what was required
of her.
[Her conversation's gotten pretty good. It's almost as though she
really understands.] Kei sank a little lower in the water and wondered
why she ever bothered to leave the bath. She'd tried staying in it,
actually, and managed for almost a month before boredom drove her
elsewhere. [Boredom, and having to fend off endless messages from that
puffed-up moron of a Dark Lord.]
"Tsuiren is the worst excuse for a battle commander in a century
and a half."
"You have made comments to that effect many times, my Lady."
"He's obsessed. There's no other word for it."
"Indeed."
"I mean, it's just one city! Forget it! Why can't we just go
somewhere else?"
"That would seem to be the best course of action, my Lady."
Kei flopped forward, sending a wave of boiling water over the edge
of the tub. She rested her chin on the opposite side, eyes closed.
"The worst of it is, this won't be the end of it."
"Oh no. A defeat will only make things worse."
Kei raised an eyebrow at her servant. "That was almost an original
contribution, Cynthia."
"It is something you've said on many occasions, my Lady."
"Mmm. I suppose."
"Will my Lady be requiring anything else?"
"Not at the moment. If I need you, I'll holler."
"Of course." Cynthia made her exit. It was all part of the
conceit, of course -- she wasn't really going to do anything other than
stand outside the door and wait for a job. Having her standing silently
felt kind of creepy, though, so Kei had instructed her to leave whenever
the opportunity presented itself.
Despite her best efforts, Kei found she couldn't help thinking
about the battle. Her white-hot rage was fading, though, and underneath
there was a disturbing undercurrent.
[Kara.] The green-haired woman had been crushed by a falling
I-beam, and Kei was fairly sure she'd been killed outright. She'd still
been lying there, in any case, when everyone else teleported. The
thought was somehow disquieting.
[So what?] Kei turned over angrily. [I never liked her anyway.
Too picky. She was always going on about this writer or that poet, and
how much better she felt after sucking them dry. Stuck-up bitch.]
[But...]
The thought that she might one day end] had not occurred to Kei in
a long time. Not since she'd clawed her way out of Limbo and carved out
a space in the Domains, anyway, and that had been so long ago she barely
remembered it.
"Fuck." She said it quietly, almost a whisper. [Six inches
farther to the left, and that blade would have cut me in half. I could
have still made it home, though.] She swallowed. Probably.] Kei tried
to work up her rage again, but all she found was an aching gap. [I
wonder if this is how humans feel all the time?]
The 'snap' of an opening vortex brought her out of her reverie with
a start, sending another wave of water washing across the tiled floor.
By the time she regained her footing, Ayre was already staring bemused
through the circular window that hovered above the water, a few feet in
front of her. He was clearly enjoying the view, she realized belatedly;
Kei rolled her eyes.
"Honestly, Ayre. You could give a girl some warning."
He smiled, and brushed back cobalt-blue hair that fell limply to
just above his shoulders. His eyes were odd -- one so pale it was
nearly white, the other as dark as though he were wearing sunglasses
under his skin. "Ah, but this is much more fun."
"Do you enjoy looking at my naked body that much? Would you like a
copy?"
"Thanks for the offer. I'd miss your scintillating personality,
though."
"Really." She sighed. "What do you want?"
"Just making sure you made it back alive. I heard this latest
fight was a disaster."
"Fucking Tsuiren." Rage returned for a moment. "He walked right
into a trap. We had her outgunned, finally, but--"
"I heard Kara didn't make it out."
"Yeah." Kei shook her head.
Ayre paused for a long moment. "Kei, this can't go on."
"I know."
"She's beating us. It's one girl, but somehow--"
"I *know*. But we don't have to go back and fight her every time.
There's a thousand places we could go where she'd never find us."
"Tsuiren won't allow it. He's obsessed."
"He's fucking crazy."
"But--"
"Kara *died*, Ayre. Who was the last person you know who died?"
"But what we can we do?"
Kei had not followed her thoughts to their logical conclusion, but
she replied at once. "I'm not doing it anymore. He can go fuck
himself."
"You don't mean that."
"I do."
"Do you know what he's going to do to you?"
"Let me worry about Tsuiren."
"Kei--"
"Enough. Stop bothering me in the bath." She concentrated, and
the vortex collapsed, cutting off Ayre in midsentence. Kei was once
again alone in her domain, idly stirring the bathwater with flicks of
her wrist.
[Tsuiren will be pissed. But there has to be *something* I can
do.]
[Something.]
Moments later, an audacious idea occurred to her.
It was a dark but not quite stormy night, the sky pregnant with the
threat of rain. Mary looked up at the roiling thunderheads and wondered
if she should have brought an umbrella after all.
"Well?"
She turned back to face the three thugs she'd brought with a bright
smile. She thought of them as thugs, anyway, even if they were really
just members of the football team. Either way they towered over her --
Mary was tiny, barely five foot two, with short hair dyed a brilliant
white-blonde and thin, delicate features.
The second thug stepped forward and spoke in a rumbling bass.
"What's going on here? You said some girl wanted to talk to us." The
three of them had leapt to the conclusion that 'talk to' was a
euphemism, so there was a certain amount of chortling at this. Mary
smiled.
"Exactly. I wanted a quiet word with you three."
"Did you, now?"
Inwardly, Mary couldn't help but groan. [I can't believe anyone
would actually fall for this. I mean, three burly jocks corner some
helpless girl in an alley, and you've *got* to expect them to coming
flying out feet first. But they never seem to learn.]
The lead thug, boldest of the three, put one hand on her shoulder
and shoved her up against the crumbling brick wall of the convenience
store. He leaned in close, subjecting her to a nasty view and the
stench of alcohol. Mary made sure her smile never wavered.
"Take your hand off me, please?"
He snorted. "You've got a lot of nerve. Why the hell did you ask
us out here?"
"Like I said: I wanted to talk to you."
"Right." He leaned even closer, eyes closed; Mary lithely slipped
from his grip and ducked deeper into the alley. The thug turned on her
angrily.
"Look--" She raised her hands protectively.
"Shut up and come here. We came all the way out here, so you--"
"Just listen for a second. Do you know Robyn Masters?"
The conversational tone took him aback. "Sure. She's in our
class, isn't she?"
"What do you think of her?"
"She's a freak." That got a laugh from his companions. "You've
seen her, haven't you?"
"Sure. I saw her last night, in fact. I'm wondering if you guys
did too."
"So what if we did?"
"She got beaten up pretty badly, I hear." Mary tilted her head to
one side. "You guys do that?"
Now his expression turned dangerous, and he took a step nearer.
"So what if we did?"
"So you admit it."
"Sure. Between us and the walls, sure. But you'd better make damn
sure you don't tell anyone else, or you'll get worse than she got."
She rolled her eyes. "I don't need to tell anyone, don't worry."
"So what are you doing here, sticking up for her?"
"Pretty much."
"Really." His hand shot out and grabbed her arm. "I think this is
going to be fun after all, guys."
Her smiled remained. "Ooh. Is this where we exchange vague
threats? I love that part."
"What?"
"How about: I'm going to chop off the top of your head with an axe,
scoop the insides out, and fill your skull with hornets. Or is that not
vague enough?"
"She's fuckin' crazy." He turned away from her, which was probably
a mistake. "This girl is crazy."
"Pretty much."
The hammer of solid air that rammed into his gut was something of a
surprise, and he folded neatly in half, catching her elbow in the back
of the head on the way down and splashing into the muck. His companions
didn't do much more than blink. Before they could move, the larger of
the two was lifted into the air by his collar and slammed into the wall.
The third, to his credit, ran for it -- Mary let him get to the end of
the alley before yanking his legs from under him.
For a moment, things were quite still. Mary bent, so she could
whisper in the leader's ear.
"So here's the deal. Touch her again, and I'll kill you. Mention
this to anyone, and I'll kill you. Nod if you understand."
"You..." He lacked the breath to speak, but managed to force
through a few words. "Bitch. How..."
"Do you understand?"
His eyes went wide as he found himself rising into the air,
unsupported. Mary smiled wider as he nodded frantically, and tossed him
back to the floor.
"The same goes for your friends, too. So play nice."
Thunder growled, and the rain began to tattoo an insistent beat on
the flat roofs of the convenience store and the pizza parlor next door.
Mary glanced heavenward for a moment, and above her drops of rain
flashed into steam. The corona of nearly invisible fire followed her
out of the alley; by the time she left, she was whistling a jaunty tune.
"Hello? Anybody home?"
It was a moment before anyone answered, and Mary found herself
automatically preparing to unleash a wave of razor-sharp white-hot
death. She relaxed visibly when Lia answered from the couch in the
living room.
"Yo. Where were you?"
Mary shook out her coat, which was barely more than damp, and hung
it on the rack in the hall. Hardwood floors creaked gently as she
tiptoed into the living room -- one of the drawbacks of living in an
elderly monster of a house was nightingale floors. On the other hand,
it's not entirely a drawback -- it helps avoid being caught in awkward
situations.
The television was on, but muted, and Lia was sprawled in front of
it on a couch so decrepit it was barely more than a skeleton of wood and
improvised cushions. She raised a hand in greeting, and Mary flopped
into one of the basket chairs that completed the room's complement of
furniture.
"Having a chat with some people. You didn't need to wait up."
"I'm meeting Darren at half past one." Lia smiled thinly. She was
three years younger than her sister at sixteen, with shockingly red hair
that Mary had always envied. Her wardrobe tended towards t-shirts and
jeans, carefully tattered for optimum effect; Mary looked her over and
nodded grudging approval.
"I take it Dad's asleep?"
Lia rolled her eyes. "Of course."
"And who're you going to tell if Prince Charming tries anything
untoward?"
"Come *on*, Mary."
"Answer the question."
"You." Lia looked sulky. "Of course."
"Good." Darren, in Mary's opinion, was kind of a jerk. He treated
Lia well enough, though, and she tried not to be judgmental. "Where's
Robyn?"
"Upstairs. She looked pretty tired, so I told her to use your
room." Lia looked suddenly sly. "I don't see why I have to sneak out
of the house while *you* get to have your girlfriends over."
"Right." Mary raised one eyebrow. "You know me and Robyn.
Insatiable. Actually, we were thinking of asking you to join us."
"Mary!" Lia mimed shock, and both girls broke down in quiet
laughter. Mary shook her head.
"Seriously. How was she doing?"
"Fine. I think it looks worse than it really is." The younger
sister was suddenly serious. "Did you really go to sort out whoever did
that to her?"
"Sure. I figured I'd just duke it out with them, right?" She
raised her fists, and Lia giggled. "Well, not exactly. It's not like I
did it personally. But I do have a lot of friends who owe me favors..."
Lia whistled the first few bars of the Godfather theme and did her
best Italian accent. "Mary Corleone."
"Maybe now you'll think twice before making fun of me." She got to
her feet with a sigh. "I'm going to bed. If Dad asks, Robyn's just
spending the night for fun, okay?"
"Just keep it down. If your moans wake him up, we'll both be in
trouble."
"That's about enough out of you."
Lia flashed a last smile as Mary trudged up the stairs, avoiding by
instinct the loudest places. The second floor of the house was
cavernous and dark, with only three of a dozen bedrooms in use and the
rest fallen into disrepair. She found her way to her own door by feel
and let herself in as quietly as she could, but apparently this was not
quietly enough -- covers stirred in the darkness.
"Mary?" Robyn's voice was a whisper. "Is that you?"
Mary choked back a sarcastic rejoinder, remembering that Robyn was
probably not in the mood. "Yeah. Sorry if I woke you."
"Nope." She chuckled half-heartedly. "I'm finding it hard to get
to sleep."
"Feeling any better?"
"Aching." Robyn paused. "I'll be all right, I guess."
"You will." She yawned. "I need to get some sleep. I hope you
don't mind..."
"It's your room! I couldn't...I mean..." Mary could almost see
Robyn's blush, even in total darkness. "I can sleep on the floor, or
something."
Mary was already undressing. "Don't worry about it. The bed's big
enough, and I trust you to be honorable."
"O...okay."
The first part was true, anyway. All the beds in the house were
huge, to match the scale of the place, and there was more than enough
room for the both of them. Mary yanked the covers over herself and lay
back with a contented sigh, complaining muscles finally assuaged. Robyn
lay next to her, close enough that she could feel the warmth. That
alone was enough to make her drowsy, but Mary knew her friend well
enough to sense when she needed to talk. Sure enough, it was only
another few moments before Robyn cleared her throat softly.
"Mary?"
"What?"
"Thanks."
"No problem."
"Really. If not for you...I...I don't know what I'd do."
Mary shivered. "Robyn, please don't talk like that."
"Sorry."
[I really should tell her.] The urge to tell *someone* had been
building for months now, and Mary wasn't sure how much longer she could
resist. [At least I can trust Robyn to keep it quiet. If I told Lia
it'd be all over the school by the next morning.] She wasn't sure how
Robyn would take it, though. She might be scared of me. Hell, *I'd* be
scared of me if I didn't know me so well.] Even so, it bore thinking
about.
[They'll probably try again tomorrow.] Mary smiled to herself.
[I'll have to bring a note for my teachers.]
It was typical of Tsuiren to demand that all meetings be held in
his own domain, instead of some neutral spot. What galled Kei even more
was that nobody bothered to stand up to him. They were all as eager as
he was. [So what the hell is wrong with me? Am I the only one who sees
what we're up against?]
The gathering was in a massive conference room that Tsuiren had
created for the occasion, mimicking a high-tech office tower. [He's
always up on the fashions of humans, I'll give him that much.] Some of
his guests, who were gradually popping into existence around the big
table, were not so current. Byore and his party, for example, were
still decked out in skulls and black iron, while Tsfair had apparently
set his heart on the cloak-and-big-shoulderpad craze that had been
popular a couple of Temporal years ago.
Tsuiren himself, of course, was immaculate in an exquisitely
tailored gray suit and a body that was an amalgamation of a half-dozen
movie icons. His hair was limp and brown, arranged with a perfection
that seemed nothing but natural; his eyes, behind semi-circular black
glasses, flickered from brown to green to red as the mood suited him.
All-in-all he looked more like a model for some new line of men's
fashions then absolute master of a motley gang of semi-deities.
Tsuiren's assistants were both humans, which was a not-so-subtle
display of his power. Keeping an environment suitable for long-term
habitation by humans was not a task that many would undertake willingly.
Kei herself had never bothered -- humans were such fragile creatures
that keeping them alive was an enormous headache. Semiauts like Cynthia
were far superior in most cases, anyway, though their conversation
skills were somewhat lacking.
Ayre appeared next to her with a hum, dressed in his usual
non-descript brown. For her part, Kei had reluctantly chosen a tightly
fitted off-the-shoulder dress that showed off her figure to good effect.
[Given what I'm trying to pull off, impressing Tsuiren a little can't
hurt.] Myrgai had gone over the top, as usual, and was wearing a tawny
cat-woman body with perfect grace.
"I'm surprised to find you here," Ayre commented quietly while the
guests were still assembling. "Given how you're talking."
"It wouldn't do to miss a meeting." Her face was sour. "Tsuiren
made the invitation somewhat obligatory anyway."
"I doubt you'll have to go along this time. This lot is out for
blood."
It was true. Stories of the fiasco on the last expedition had
spread, and quite a few of tonight's guests looked armed and dangerous.
Kei shook her head.
"I just don't get it."
Ayre shrugged. "The thought of a human beating us is intolerable
to them."
"And to you?"
"I pride myself on liberal thinking." He grimaced. "I still can't
say I like the idea, though."
"Please don't tell me you're going to volunteer."
"Hardly."
"Good."
Most of the guests seemed to have arrived, and Tsuiren raised a
hand for silence. One by one, the lords of the Outer Reaches sat back,
quieted down, and waited for him to speak. Kei was already vibrating
with barely suppressed rage.
"My friends," he began. "I'm glad to see so many of you here
today. I assume you are all aware of our situation."
There was general murmuring to that effect, and Tsuiren continued.
"As of late, more and more of our procurement expeditions have been
terminated at the source. We have gradually become aware of some party
opposing us. Someone from the Timestream."
More murmuring, although almost everyone knew perfectly well what
was going on.
"At one point the very idea of one of them challenging one of us
would have been laughable. But things have changed. Now our way of
life -- our very existence -- is threatened. By a *human*."
This brought shouting from around the table, as he must have known
it would. Tsuiren played the crowd like a master, waiting for things to
rise to a fever pitch before gesturing for silence. He got it,
eventually, and there was a hushed silence as he continued.
"Expeditions on the part of individual lords proved fruitless, so I
directed a group of our most powerful daemons and a few lords to look
into it. They were ambushed, and defeated."
More clamor threatened to cut him off, but Tsuiren raised his
voice. "Wait. That is not all." He favored everyone with his
dazzlingly white smile. "I have devised a plan."
General cheers. Kei felt sick. Do they actually believe for a
minute he's come up with something new?]
"The problem last time," said Tsuiren, "is that we were caught by
surprise. So this time we will turn the tables. I have chosen three
targets, rich in the energy we need, and we shall dispatch a force of
daemons to each. Daemons that we can easily spare. A fourth force will
consist of the strongest daemons I *personally* can devise, with the
assistance of a few chosen volunteers. This fourth force will wait for
the enemy to contact one of the sites, then ambush and destroy her."
No need to specify who 'she' was -- the room was already filled
with shouting lords, each demanding the honor. Tsuiren smiled and
spread his arms. "Please! As you know, we can only send a few at a
time, to avoid creating turbulence in the Barrier. Rest assured I will
choose only the best."
After that, the meeting pretty much dissolved.
Ayre and Kei were left sitting alone as the crowd clustered around
Tsuiren, anxious to see who he'd choose. Ayre shook his head, slowly.
"Well?"
Kei snorted. "Tsuiren couldn't plot his way out of a paper bag.
I'd put odds against the human being smarter than him any day."
"True. And she's already demonstrated her prowess."
"Tsuiren's daemons have plenty of raw power, but he lacks
imagination. I'm not surprised they get beaten so easily."
"Also true." Ayre sighed. "It's a knotty problem."
"Not for me. I'll just wait till everyone else gets killed off,
then become the Dark Lord myself."
"Good idea, except that you know he'd send you and everyone else
into the breach before risking his own hide."
"I don't hear you chiming in with suggestions."
"Give it time." He raised an eyebrow. "The meeting appears to be
over. Would you care to join me in my domain? There's a couple of
humans I've been keeping in stasis for a special occasion -- I could
thaw them out and make them fight to the death."
"Appetizing as that sounds, I think I'll pass." Ayre's company was
better than most, but at the moment Kei wanted to be alone with her
thoughts. "Another time, perhaps."
"As you wish." He vanished in a swirl of colored fire, and Kei
waited only a moment longer before retreating to her own domain with a
'whaum'.
[When this next batch comes running home with their tails between
their legs, things are going to get ugly around here. I'd best be
ready.]
[I suppose this counts as a change for the better.]
Robyn stalked through the corridors of Wakarton High School and for
a moment felt big and bad as people scrambled out of her way. Whatever
bizarre neurological disease was causing this behavior hadn't affected
everyone, but it was definitely noticeable -- John Friedman, who last
week wouldn't have spared the opportunity to follow her with a sarcastic
quip, scrambled into a classroom doorway as she passed. Robyn could
almost feel the tide of whispering rise up behind her and fall silent
when she turned to stare.
[What is it this time? Did someone tell everyone I caught Ebola,
or something?] It was probably an elaborate practical joke -- from past
experience, she knew this was the most likely explanation for anything
strange. Still, there was something vaguely satisfying about watching
people shut up as she approached and seeing the freshmen scurry out of
her way.
First period was History, which was code for sleep. History, in
Robyn's experience, consisted of one class worth of names and dates
followed by ten of useless drivel, so she'd taken to bringing a novel
and letting it wash over her. Mrs. Smyth was so happy to have one
student who didn't fail even the least strenuous of quizzes that she was
prepared to overlook almost any impropriety, and in any case Robyn
always sat all the way in the back, next to the radiator and the shelves
full of last year's textbooks. The seats around her were normally
empty, and today was no exception -- she made her way to the back and
sat down amidst a storm of curious stares and hushed conversations.
Once Mrs. Smyth started to lecture -- today's topic being the legal
codes of 12th century France -- it was usually safe to escape. Nothing
new, reading material wise, had come along lately, so Robyn pulled out a
copy of _Neverwhere_ that was so well-used you could have shuffled the
pages. Moments later the rhythm of the familiar words washed over her
and 20th century America, not to mention 12th century France, vanished
safely into the background.
"That kid in the front row looks like a tomato."
It took her brain a moment to process these words and figure out
where they'd come from, and in that moment she became aware they were
part of a low-grade stream of running commentary.
"Look at him. Why did he shave his head? It looks idiotic. And
the kid next to him is so fat he might explode at any moment. And
what's with that girl in the third row? What is that thing she's
wearing?"
These questions were asked in an off-hand manner, as though the
speaker didn't really expect an answer. They were also, Robyn realized
belatedly, in _Japanese_, a language which she understood by dint of
much effort but to the rest of the class might as well have been ancient
Greek. She risked a glance sideways and found an Asian girl she'd never
met before sitting beside her; her new neighbor gave her a brittle smile
before turning back to Mrs. Smyth and continuing her sotto voce
monologue.
"And what, exactly, am I supposed to gain from this? Though I'm
not sure anyone else is getting more out of this lecture. I'm already
bored out of my skull. This is *so* stupid."
Without thinking, Rachel muttered a response. "You don't know the
half of it."
There was a moment of shocked silence -- the other girl looked
around wildly before staring at Robyn, who carefully checked to make
sure the teacher wasn't paying her any attention. Mrs. Smyth was
distracted, though, and she turned sideways.
"You did just say that, right?" asked the newcomer. "I'm not going
crazy?"
Robyn nodded uncertainly.
"Thank god. 'Cause I figured, not talking to anyone for days, I
might be hallucinating." She licked her lips and leaned forward a
little bit. "You can understand me?"
"Mostly." Practiced as it was, Robyn's speech lacked the fluency
of a native, but the girl didn't seem to care. "Who are you?"
"Sumiko, Ishiyama Sumiko. Nice to meet you!"
"Robyn Masters. Robyn is fine."
Sumiko nodded eagerly, then suddenly blushed. "Oh. I hope I
didn't insult any friends of yours."
"Don't worry about it." Robyn shot another glance at the class to
make sure no-one was listening, then felt a bit silly since they
wouldn't have understood even if they had been. "I hate most of them
anyway."
"Excellent. So how come you can speak Japanese?"
"Uh..." She swallowed before deciding to tell the truth. [I
imagine she'll find out eventually.] "To be honest, I like to read
manga..."
"Manga?" Sumiko had an odd expression, and Robyn blanched
inwardly. [And that about wraps that up. Maybe she'll be too polite to
ditch me before the end of class.] These black thoughts continued until
Sumiko reached under into her bag and pulled out four thick volumes.
Robyn had to consciously stop herself from drooling, and her new friend
laughed.
"Ms. Ishiyama?" Mrs. Smyth adjusted her glasses with one hand as
though zeroing in her target. "I know it's your first day, but you
might consider the importance of making an initial impression. No
talking during my class."
Sumiko snapped to attention. "You resemble a bipedal pig! I will
do as you say, Mrs. Sow! Please do not chop me up and feed me to your
numberless young!"
Robyn struggled to keep a straight face as Mrs. Smyth nodded,
uncertainly.
"Y...yes. Well...as long as you're getting adjusted..."
And then, a solution presented itself. Robyn's hand shot up.
"Mrs. Smyth?"
The teacher turned to her with obvious relief. "What is it,
Robyn?"
"She said she needs to go to the principal's office and fill out
some papers."
"Oh." Robyn waited patiently for the appropriate idea to occur
behind Mrs. Smyth's wire-rimmed glasses. "Would you mind accompanying
her? I wouldn't want her to get lost on her first day..."
"Not at all, Mrs. Smyth. I've already studied this chapter
anyway."
And just like that, grabbing the uncomprehending Sumiko by one
hand, she swept out of class past two dozen suddenly jealous peers.
Robyn managed to make it out into the hall before she started laughing
so hard she bent almost double, while her friend looked on in
bewilderment.
"What just happened?"
"I told the teacher you had to go and see the principal, and she
told me to go with you."
"Ah. And now we cut and run?"
"Exactly. Under the circumstances it's almost expected of us.
Follow me, and keep up a good pace, and try not to look guilty."
They made it out of the school without encountering anyone
authoritative enough to question them, and once the building was out of
sight Robyn heaved a sigh of relief. Thespin Street paralleled the
school fields for most of its length, and was thus a favorite after- and
during-school hangout, crowded with pizza parlors and Chinese takeout
joints. Robyn and Sumiko strolled along its comparatively deserted
length, trading their favorite manga titles and authors to the general
bewilderment of passersby.
"So what are you doing here?"
"You mean here at school? Or here in Wakarton?"
"The latter, I guess."
"Cosmic forces, which control my destiny, conspire to bring me
wherever I'm needed most."
Robyn stared blankly until Sumiko broke up giggling. "Sorry. My
dad works at the IBM plant in Haverville. Just transferred in last
month."
"Ah. And you just got dragged along? That doesn't sound like
fun."
"I could have stayed behind, I guess. I don't know. I was bored."
"This is a long way to go, just because you're bored."
"Yup. It's been a lot of fun, though. School just feels kind of
stupid."
"How much English do you actually speak?"
Sumiko switched languages, enunciating each word carefully.
"I...can ...understand ...if... you...speak...slowly."
Robyn stayed in Japanese. "I'll stick to this, then."
"You have no idea how much of a relief that is."
The walked on in silence for a moment. Robyn was just about to
suggest a pizza stop when Sumiko's bag started to emit a shrill ringing.
The Japanese girl cursed and dug frantically until she came up with a
tiny pager-like device, which she slammed against her palm to stop the
irritating sound. Sumiko frowned at the screen, then shook her head.
"Shit. Robyn, I'm sorry, but I have to run."
"No problem!" Robyn waved her hand. "You helped me get out of
class, that's good enough."
"Here." Sumiko extracted a business card from her pocket and
passed it over. "Call me later, if you're around. I've got nothing
else to do, so perhaps you can rescue me from total boredom."
"Sure. Any idea when you'll be home?"
"That depends on how long this takes." There was something odd in
her expression, Robyn thought -- as though she found the situation
darkly humorous. "Try after five or so."
"Got it."
"Thanks a lot!" Sumiko broke into a run. "I'll see you later!"
"Later..." Robyn trailed off as her friend rounded the corner and
was lost to sight. She was feeling a tad overwhelmed by the suddenness
of events, but that was slowly wearing off. [And now I'll have
something to do tonight. I should invite Mary. I bet those two would
get along.]
The office building two blocks from the high school was six stories
high and was only ineffectually locked, so Mary often used it both as a
lookout and a convenient place to think. She stood on the edge,
unaffected by vertigo, the afternoon breeze catching the edges of her
long leather coat and blowing it behind her like a cape. She wore only
a t-shirt and shorts underneath, and the chill air raised goosebumps.
Aku snapped into being beside her, starting as a single pinpoint of
white-hot flame that expanded outward, sketching in the form of a
six-inch high man with bat-wings folded over his shoulder and a cloak
that danced and leapt like living flame. He hovered in mid-air over one
of her shoulders, cross-legged, and shook his head sadly.
"How sure are you this attack is actually going to happen?"
"Pretty sure." Mary sat down on the edge. "I know how they
think."
"And? Enlighten me."
"They can't stand to be beaten. They've had a day to regroup,
that's long enough. They have to attack tonight."
"That's all well and good, Maer. But what if they're smarter than
you think? Maybe they'll hit somewhere else."
"I doubt it. The guy running this thinks he's clever, so they'll
have a plan -- wherever they show up first will be a throwaway, before
they spring the trap."
"Okay." He put his chin in his hands. "Even if you know the trap
is there, what are you going to do about it? Those were some pretty
heavy hitters they brought last time. If they get the drop on you..."
"I'll just have to make sure they don't manage that, then."
Aku shivered. "Look. Maer. I know I'm supposed to encourage you
to fight them, watching out for the integrity of the Timestream an'
all--"
"Whatever that means."
"Right. But I'm a little worried."
Mary stared intently into the distance, only vaguely paying
attention to the little demon. "Oh?"
"About you." He shifted easily. "Look. Helping Robyn was okay, I
guess, and picking locks and whatnot is fine, but you're not really
supposed to use your powers for stuff like that..."
"You're no fun."
"I think you're getting too into this."
"It's just a game, Aku."
"A game? You could get killed!"
"That's what makes it a good game." She licked her lips, slowly.
"Relax. I can give it up any time I like."
"Oh, and that's supposed to reassure me?"
"Not really." Mary's eyes suddenly focused, and a brief, soundless
wind swept over the tower. She got to her feet with a sudden, decisive
motion. "There they are."
"Three groups." The little demon zoomed into the air. "At least.
Maer, be careful."
"I'm always careful." Mary stepped off the tower into infinity,
letting her black coat billow behind her.
Deus grunted, and Rin nodded assent, blinking rapidly. The feeling
of portals opening in the Great Barrier always flashed pins and needles
behind her eyes, a distinctly unpleasant sensation. It happened twice
more in rapid succession.
"Three groups?"
"They've got energy to burn, then." Deus adjusted his sunglasses,
which were nearly opaque; if she'd met him on the street, Rin would have
assumed Agent Deus was blind. As far as she could tell, he never
removed them.
In many ways, Deus was the strangest partner she'd ever had. But
as her life had been in general pretty damn strange since coming to work
for the Bureau, Deus was more of the latest highlight than anything
else. He was extremely -- almost frighteningly -- competent, had no
apparent vices or even interests outside of his job, and hadn't hit on
her once. That alone was worth putting up with his little oddities.
"So are we going in?"
"Negative, Agent Rin." Deus leaned back. He was sitting on top of
their car, a Bureau-issued black sedan, which was parked on a rise that
overlooked I-95 and most of Wakarton. It was early evening, and lights
were beginning to blink on in the valley below. The wind was also
starting to pick up, and Rin pulled her coat a little tighter.
"So..."
"We must proceed with caution. If, as we suspect, the denizens of
the Outer Reaches are engaged in some kind of protracted struggle with
someone in this area, I imagine they will be quite aggressive."
"I think we can handle a few demons."
"A few demons is not an accurate description of what we're up
against here, Agent Rin. That last penetration of the Barrier contained
at least seven individuals possessing powers in excess of Category
Five."
She let out a long, low whistle. "You aren't kidding."
"I'm rarely kidding, Agent Rin."
"So what, then? Call for backup?" Seven Cat-5s was a lot of
firepower, but nothing a trained Hunter team couldn't deal with.
"Also negative. We have insufficient data. We need to investigate
further."
"So we do move in."
"But carefully." He swung his legs off the car and hopped to the
ground, the sheet metal of the roof popping back into shape afterwards.
"You are to take no offensive actions with my express orders.
Understood?"
"Yes, sir." Being a junior partner sometimes rankled, but under
the circumstances Rin was glad not to be the one in charge. If there
really were gangs of Cat-5 demons down there...
"Agent Rin?"
"Sorry, sir." She shook her head and swung into the driver's seat,
backing the car down the hill and back on to the road. Deus never
drove. Rin wondered if he had eye problems after all.
Django Wexler (khaine)
khaine@mindless.com
Proof Method #7: Proof by pigeon mortality.
"If it lets you kill pigeons, how could it be wrong?"
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