Plagued: Book 1 (40 page)
Authors: Eden Crowne
The Fast and the Spurious
We followed the other car, keeping up through my stumbling Japanese. Good thing I paid attention during the “directions” week of elementary Japanese class my first month here. Luckily
right,
left
and
straight ahead
did the trick since that was about all I could manage besides,
good morning
,
please,
and
thank you
. A quick trip through several back streets brought us to the big Roppongi intersection. Its towering billboards were dwarfed by the overhead expressway bisecting the district like an old, gray scar. I'd spent a number of late nights, or maybe early mornings was a better description, in this neighborhood overrun with super-sized imported pimps, gastropubs, private clubs and high-end strip joints. A couple more turns and Bobby's taxi pulled up at a gloriously ornate apartment building that looked like it was made entirely of swirly vanilla cake frosting. Gossip columnist must pay pretty well. Baroque cup-cake apartments probably did not come cheap in Tokyo.
“Mr. Hereford!” I called, waving to get his attention as Julian paid off the cab driver. “Bobby, could you wait, just wait a second!”
“
Helloooo
Alexandra,
” Bobby sang out my name though he kept his gaze appraisingly on Julian. “Are you following me? What a thrill.” He clapped his hands together in delight. “Who is this mystery man? Tell, tell.”
Julian joined us, eyeing the gossip columnist warily.
“Bobby, this is...”
“Jack,” said Julian interrupting and shooting me a significant look. “Jack Maxwell.”
The two shook hands.
“Mr. Herford,” began Julian.
“Hereford
, my darling young Jack, '
re
'
ford.
Herefords are cows.
”
I desperately wanted to add, '
And you are so full of bull.'
“Mr. Hereford, it is not convenient for me, that photo Alexandra says you snapped of us.”
Bobby looked suddenly sly. “Not convenient? Oh, juicy. Wrong place right time? Always my talent, that. Saucy girl, what have you gotten yourself into with this luscious young man?”
Rolling my eyes, I muttered, “You could not even begin to guess.”
Julian took the other man's arm, steering him towards the columned doors of the building. “Perhaps we could go up to your apartment and talk. I think we might be able to work something out to both our advantages.” There was a glitter in Julian's green eyes I did not like. That look reminded me too much of when he held the jagged knife to the scaly thing in my living room.
“Um, Ju..Jack...”
He held a finger to his lips, “
Shh
.”
We went up.
The spacious apartment was decorated in a style that pretty much matched the outside of the building: Lots of brocade fabrics and heavy curtains in gold and beige. The walls were covered in '
Me-with
,' photos:
Me with
this celebrity,
Me with
that celebrity, beautiful girls, gorgeous boys. I looked closer, Bobby had the same identical smile and sweep of bangs through the decades, plastic surgery making the smile look more and more fixed. His clothes had sort of frozen at the time of his smile as well. He was a gossip columnist, not the fashion police, so what did it matter? There were two long-haired Chihuahuas with polka-dot bows in their ears sitting politely on one sofa to complete the scene. There would be.
The dogs jumped off the couch and began dancing comically around on their little hind feet, begging for attention. Bobby leaned down to scoop them up. Standing, his face once again held that sly smile. “I like that picture of you both, Jack. In fact, I like it so much, I think I can still make the deadline for this Friday's edition.”
The weekly English-language entertainment magazine he wrote for came out at the end of the week, popping up at international book and grocery stores and as an insert in several newspapers overseas. It was avidly awaited by the international set, primarily for the society pages.
Julian looked even slyer than the gossip columnist. “What if I said I could bring the Albert Einsteins to a party at one of the clubs you sponsor?”
Bobby's eyes got very wide, or at least as wide as the Botox would allow.
The Albert Einsteins were a powerfully hot group out of England. They were rocking huge sold-out shows even before their first album debuted, so powerful was the word of mouth on the group. Both the first and second albums went platinum with lightning speed, as did each of their singles. They had driving guitar work and killer, brutally honest lyrics. They were also, uncharacteristically for rockers of real talent, extremely photogenic. None more so than the lead singer, Albert, though his last name was not Einstein.
Bobby looked shocked. “I didn't even know the Alberts were in the country. How could I not know that? I know
everything
of significance.”
“Well, they are. Or at least the lead singer and the bassist, Kim Harrington, are still here. Why don't you get a
glitterati
party together at Womb in Shibuya? No, wait, too small. What about taking over The Harbor? Get your cell phone busy and your fingers texting to let everyone on your A-List know. I will guarantee the two of them are there. And Kim's mother as well.”
The bassist's mom, as every fan of the Einstein's knew, was an Oscar-winning British actress. Still clutching his two Chihuahuas, the gossip columnist cocked his head to the side. “And in exchange, I don't publish this picture of you and Alexandra?”
“Correct.”
Shifting one of the dogs, Bobby stuck out his hand, “Done.”
Julian shook it.
“Let's say Saturday night. Does that give you enough time?”
He rolled his eyes and laughed in answer. The dogs, catching his mood of excitement, barked shrilly.
Outside on the sidewalk I gaped at Julian, “The Albert Einsteins? You know the Albert Einsteins?”
He gave me an enigmatic look. “I know a lot of important people, Alexandra. Both living and dead.”
Walk on the Wild Side
The text message said only, “Meiji Shrine, Harajuku 4:30, J.”
I had to skip the school bus and run to catch the express train to make it in time. Funny how I didn't even question meeting him. There was something about Julian Lake, drawing me to him. Not that I liked him. Not
like,
like. He was fierce and frightening, completely enigmatic and, stranger than anything else, magic. Given my wimpdom for all things supernatural, I should have been terrified. Strangely enough, every day now I found myself almost looking forward to seeing him. Self-analysis was a bad holdover of a lonely childhood, yet I couldn't seem to analyze how I felt around Julian. After Savan, I knew I should be cautious. My infatuation with him, the ready acceptance of anything he said, made it painfully obvious exactly how inexperienced I was. Boys,
men
, were apparently full of lies even when they were kissing you.
My heart thumped as it did whenever I thought of Savan. He was so beautiful, his words, his voice, all I wanted to hear for ever and ever. Or so I thought. Julian said Savan and all of the Club members were dangerous. Were they really? Julian was certifiably dangerous, I'd seen that for myself. Several times. The question was, would he be dangerous to me? He'd sworn I could trust him. As I stepped off the train onto the crowded platform at Harajuku Station, I admitted to myself I was having some issues with that particular emotion right now. Yet here I was.
Paved walkways and posing teens in CosPlay costumes at Harajuku Station gave way within a few yards to an avenue of loose gravel winding among old growth trees and dense underbrush leading to Meiji Shrine. I pulled out my camera and snapped a couple of pictures out of habit. The hardcore Cos Players wouldn't be out until the weekend. Harajuku had a sort of split personality. At least from what I'd seen since I first started hanging out here. On one side of the station, the broad boulevard rolled over a tantalizing landscape of fashion icons: Chanel, Dior, Gucci. The side streets crowded with boutiques so close together you could barely insert a knife between the buildings, sold fashion every bit as iconic and way cheaper. In other words,
that
side of Harajuku was all about looking good in this world. The side of the station leading to the shrine, however, was all about looking good in the
other
world.
Shrines, I'd learned, closed normally at dusk. Still an hour or so away. Crunch, crunching on the gravel, I searched through the crowd of tourists and locals for Julian. The silver hair made him fairly easy to spot, especially in this country. Sure enough, there he was, standing on the other side of a massive postcard-worthy wooden
torii
gate nearly two-stories tall.
Though he must have seen me as well, he did not approach. When I was only a few feet away I said, “Don't exert yourself to meet me or anything.”
No reaction at all.
Stepping through the torii, I saw his attention was focused with great concentration on a space some feet above my head. Turning around, I followed his gaze, narrowing my eyes, trying to see what was so interesting. The air shimmered a little and a human form came into focus. Even a newbie to Japan like me knew this was a strange sight. Someone was clinging to the side of the giant wooden pillar that formed one support of the towering ceremonial gate. Visitors coming and going beneath seemed completely oblivious.
A girl, long hair hanging down past her waist, bound with an intricate, white, knotted cloth, clung there. She wore a white kimono with full sleeves tucked into a pair of wide-legged, red pants. There was nothing funny about further evidence of the supernatural, still I couldn't help laughing. She reminded me exactly of a squirrel clinging to an oak tree. Put it down to nerves. The figure turned her head to stare down at me. She had the face of a fox. A fox! What the hell. Her ears twitched back and forth and she opened her mouth in a lip-curling snarl showing rows of sharp teeth. My legs gave way and I fell back onto the gravel in surprise. Soundlessly, she leaped from the pillar high into the air, sleeves fluttering. Throwing herself into a backwards somersault, she disappeared. Just
poof!
Julian, frowning, helped me to my feet, brushing roughly at the gravel and dust clinging to the back of my gray tunic sweater and skinny jeans.
“I didn't mean to scare her off.”
He laughed at that. A real laugh. His moods shifted so suddenly, I wondered if I would ever learn to gauge them. And did that even matter?
“That was a
kami
. Believe me, nothing you could possibly do could scare her!”
“Kami?”
“
Kami.
Spirits and Gods in the Japanese Shinto religious pantheon.”
“Gods? On Earth?”
He narrowed his brows a little as though thinking hard. “Eastern concepts towards that term are a little different than our monotheistic approach in the West over the last several millennia.”
I rolled my eyes. The way he talked!
“She did have a fox's face, right?”
He nodded.
Falling into step together, we walked down the avenue towards what must be the main shrine. “The torii marks the beginning of hallowed ground, Japanese-style. I have an agreement with some of the
kami
of this place. They allow me to hide from the scrutiny of the Club in return for information. They don't like the Club members or their demon slaves any more than I do. In fact, I doubt the
kami
will let them operate in Tokyo for much longer, at least in any organized capacity.”
I flashed on an incident early in my friendship with the Club. The twins, Stephanie and Cameron, Savan and I were walking from Shibuya to Harajuku. The two shopping hubs were actually quite close together – unless you were in heels. Ouch. Passing near the entrance to the shrine, I dashed inside, camera ready, saying I wanted to see it. The others hadn't followed, standing firmly on the opposite side of the torii gate. Frowning at me, the atmosphere turned tense in a way I didn't understand. Though I coaxed and cajoled, the three of them remained adamant about going on our way. Now the whole thing made sense. It was not that they would not enter, they
could
not enter. Curiouser and curiouser, this new world.
We crunched our way over the gravel, slowly getting closer to the shrine. It was a long walk and chilly here in the shadow of the pines and cypress lining the route. I was very glad I'd worn my black patent flats to school today instead of heels.
“Are things different between the West and the East? I mean, aside from the whole 'God' concept?” Part of me couldn't believe I was even asking that question with a straight face.
Julian took a deep breath before answering, “Yes, actually it is very feudal. Though I have never been beyond the portals, there are other worlds besides ours. In those worlds are kingdoms: the Fae, Demons, Spirit, the Dead, and many more besides.”
“'No way.”
“Why not? Physics has long postulated alternate universes. 'Reality' is a pretty flimsy truth. It's all about perception. One theory is that the universe is constantly trying to 'perfect' itself. Achieve the perfect balance of elements, of light and dark, push and pull, chaos and calm. Each universe represents an experiment. Though that implies a disturbing sort of consciousness to time and space.”
“That sounds a lot like God to me. I mean, how we think of God.”
Julian shrugged.
“So we're the last universe? The perfect one?”
Julian gave me one of his “you just said something so incredibly stupid” stares.
“Um...these realities though, they cross?”
“Absolutely. Most people, probably 99.9 percent don't ever know it. Each of us perceives the world differently and sometimes not at all.” He laughed.
I didn't get the joke. Nor surprise there. I only understood a fraction of what he said at the best of times.
“The West has tried to analyze magic out of existence. Asia is different. Here they maintain a very symbiotic relationship between the supernatural worlds and this one. The paranormal is perfectly normal to believe in. In Japan they call the demons and supernatural creatures
yokai
. I am only now finding out just how diverse and different
yokai
magic
is
from the magic I grew up with. Whether this is because these beings actually come from a distinct, separate world or domain is still a mystery to me. The
kami
and many other supernatural entities of the
yokai
are quite territorial – on both sides of the supernatural divide. They don't like interference by magic-wielding humans from the other side of the world.”
“Like the Club.”
He nodded.
“Or you,” I couldn't help adding. Sometimes his superior attitude was a
little
annoying.
That made him frown.
We walked further. Meiji Shrine really was a big place. I had Asian history both at my school in Beijing and last year for one semester in Paris. “Isn't this shrine constructed in honor of the Meiji Emperor? Hardly a spiritual guy. The Meiji Restoration was to force out the remnants of the samurai and usher in a more modern age, all suits and shoes and dresses. He hardly seems like someone to worship in the traditional way.”
Julian made a sharp, dismissive gesture with one hand, “Don't forget they still believed him to be descended from the sun goddess,
Ameterasu
. Anyway, they could have named it after Ronald McDonald and it wouldn't have mattered really. The
land
has the power, in conjunction with the careful placement of buildings and the natural elements. Together they draw the
kami
and give the place its true energy.”
After much gravel crunching, we arrived at the main entrance, stopping to wash our hands in the traditional manner at the stone fountain lined with bamboo water scoops.
“You should rinse your mouth, too.” Julian pointed at the scoop.
I looked up at him as I dribbled the clear, cold water over my fingers. “I beg your pardon?”
“Rinsing your mouth is part of the purification process.”
I stared at him doubtfully, “Do the germs know this? These are communal scoops.”
“Don't be a baby. And you don't put your lips to it anyway. Just dribble a bit of water in your left hand and rinse with that.”
Rinsed and purified, reluctantly on my part and sure I could taste flu germs mixed with the flavor of bamboo, we made our way through the massive main gate and into the actual temple grounds. Here I saw several young women dressed identically to the
thing
clinging to the
torii
gate – minus the fox face. I pointed and waited for Julian to explain. He was like my own supernatural Wikipedia.
“Shrine maidens. Very sought-after position. Brings honor to their families.” He led the way towards several low-standing boards covered in little wooden tablets about the size of my hand. In front of them sat a table with markers, a rack of plain tablets and what was obviously an offering box.
Julian took one of the tablets and carefully covered it in curling, interconnecting symbols. Not Japanese or Chinese characters, something else entirely, I thought. Much like the symbols he had written all over me.
While he scribbled, I pulled out my camera and snapped a few photos. The shrine was everything I thought it would be and I could kick myself for not coming sooner. The complex construction of interconnecting wooden pillars and beams was simple and unadorned, giving the large main temple an almost organic feel. Leafy green trees on either side of the courtyard set off the subtle gradations of brown from the bleached wood of the buildings and the gray paving stones of the courtyard.
Julian tugged at my sleeve. I tucked my little digital camera away. Together we moved forward to what must be an offering box. Julian reached into one pocket, removing a smooth, green stone and dropped it in.
I couldn't help it, I had to ask, “Do the priests want your rock in their offering plate? Um, box? Most churches I know prefer money.”
“The rock, as you call it so dismissively, is a portion of rare jade, and it is not for the priests. The energy the mineral sends out is a signal for one of the
gods of the shrine
. Alerting him to my presence. I am asking him to give me a w
ord
. A very powerful spell that I cannot possess without his help. If I have that
word
, I can call forth its power with my own alchemy. We are going to need something extra for the coming battle with the Soul Eaters.”
“That sounds ominous and also incomprehensible since I don't know how you can possess a word. And just what battle are you talking about?”
“We will have to fight eventually for your soul. I thought you understood that.”
“What kind of fighting?”
He didn't answer. Instead, he reached over and gave my hand a squeeze. Was he trying to reassure me? Julian? The world had become a very scary place of late. Julian was my only anchor on the shore of sanity as the tides of reality headed out to sea. At least he seemed to have a plan, and that was reassuring in itself.
