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Authors: Kelly Thompson

Storykiller (32 page)

BOOK: Storykiller
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Tessa thought him jealous of Fenris, and he was, but not for the reasons that she suspected, or mostly not for the reasons she suspected. The man was monumentally self-possessed. It was something Robin had never managed and Fenris seemed so at ease with that aspect of his life, had accepted it, or was exceptional at faking it. Of course he’d had a good fifteen hundred years on Robin, but it was cold comfort, a reminder that Fenris was ahead of him. And Robin often wondered if Fenris truly felt the weight of those years the way Robin did. He didn’t exactly come of as a tortured soul.

The man infuriated him.

And there was no comfort.

Every moment they kept him here against his will was another moment that something might come after Tessa. Another moment that Marian might find out he was back in Story. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her. Quite the opposite. In fact, huge swathes of him wanted it so badly he could taste it. He wanted to see her and do nothing else. But he honestly didn’t know if he’d be able to leave if he saw her, and Tessa needed him, and he needed to know what it was they had. It was somehow like what he and Marian had, and also utterly different. Both things terrified and excited him.

The heavy wooden door to the cell masquerading as guest room creaked open and Robin sprang to life, lunging for the door and his escape only for the door to be filled with someone entering. When the cloak fell back off her head and he saw Morgana, he had to forcibly stop himself from hissing like a cartoon villain. Still, she saw the restrained hatred on his face and was unmoved by it. She stepped deeper into the room and looked him up and down, appraising him openly
. “You’re looking different these days.”

“Well, you know the Mortal world, quite colorful,” he said, his voice clipped as he tried to restrain his hatred for authority and for Morgana especially.

“Mmmm,” Morgana mused, unclasping her cloak and draping it over a chair. She sat on a stone bench and pushed her inky hair behind her shoulder. “Deception has never been your strong suit, Robin. Let’s just be frank with one another, shall we?”

Robin doubted that was remotely possible, but he wasn’t going to be the one to say it. “Fine. What in the name of all that’s holy gives you the right to keep me here? I was promised safe passage and there are people I must see.”

“Don’t be an idiot.” She sighed, adjusting the threaded gold cuff on the sleeve of her dress. “I have saved your stupid life by keeping you here.”

“Explain.”

“Midas guaranteed your passage, yes?”

“Yes.”
“And you trust him?”

“Of course not.”

“Well then,” she said, as if that was the end of the conversation.

Robin clenched his fists open and closed in frustration, “Well, I don’t trust you either, so I don’t see where I’m at an advantage here.”

“Do you trust, Tal?”

He hesitated. “Yes.”

“And you think she would have just dropped you into my ‘evil clutches’ if there wasn’t a reason, if she had other options?”

“So explain.”

“There’s a bounty on your return to Story.”

“There’s
always
a bounty on me. It’s how Tal and I became friends in the first place.”

“But Midas hasn’t always been in charge and now that he is, he’s made some promises to powerful people for your safe return home. After you and Snow were deposed by The Court, there was to be a vote about whether you would be able to return to the Mortal world. That vote was not going to go your way. I had Tal bring you here in secret instead.”

“If that’s true, Snow knows I’m here. She can’t be trusted.”

“She can. On this at least. Besides, she’s so busy trying to argue her way back home she’ll barely give you a second thought.”

Robin couldn’t help but smile. That was probably true. “So why bring me at all then? Why not just have Tal warn me and avoid all the theatrics?”

“I need you to do something for me.”

“No way.”

Morgan looked at him, exasperated. “You don’t even know what it
is
yet.”

“Well, it can’t be
good.

“I have a message for The Scion. A warning. You see, you have no idea what you’re dealing with, who your enemy
really
is.”

 

 

Tessa stumbled away from Brand’s body and toward Micah’s shrieks coming from the trees. She seemed to get no closer, as if she was walking through quicksand. And then the cries stopped as quickly as they’d begun.

The silence was powerfully deep.

And far more terrifying than the shrieks.

Sound at least meant life.

A moment after the screaming stopped, Tessa felt a shockwave of some kind, like the blowback from a small bomb, the force of which knocked her flat on her back. There was a painfully bright pop of light all around her. Her vision had been restored. Her eyes were back! She could feel them blinking in her face, devouring oxygen greedily. She narrowed them and peered into the trees, trying to find Micah, but there was nothing, just a dense layered mess of green and increasing darkness. Brand moaned some distance behind her, still on the path, and Tessa ran back to help him up. His mouth was back, he was making glorious noise.

These were wonderful things.

“Your face,” Brand said, his own looking pained. Tessa reached up to touch the side of her face, which had three brutal cuts running across it, one of them especially deep and stretching from her cheek all the way through her lips, stopping halfway down her chin. She drew back a bloody hand.

“Yeah,” she said. “C’mon,” she pulled him with her toward the trees. “I think she’s this way.” And no sooner did she say it, then Micah began walking to them through the brush. Tessa looked at her and furrowed her brow. Something was different. Something had happened. As Micah neared them, Tessa saw her friend, entirely intact, though looking rough, her neck a nasty shade of red. But when Micah looked at them, a little glint of green light flashed in her eyes. “Micah?”

“I’m fine, Tessa,” she said, her voice rough and raw from screaming.

“What happened, where is that thing?” Tessa said, looking around them and adjusting her sweaty grip on The Black Dove.

“Shikigami,” Micah said flatly. “Or Shiki. They’re familiars of Onmyoji. This one was sent by his master to put a spell called ‘See No’ on us.”

“Who was its Master?”

“Circe,” Micah said, brushing some leaves and dirt off her jeans and sweatshirt.

“Circe the Greek goddess?” Brand said, open-mouthed.

“The same,” Micah said.

“So, how did you—?” Tessa started, and then stopped and tried again, anxious. Something was definitely wrong. “—Where is it?”

Micah whistled and the thing came out of the woods, almost shy. Tessa raised her axe. “You don’t need that,” Micah said.

“Why not?” Tessa asked.

“Because I’m its master now,” Micah said, her voice flat and emotionless, her eyes glinting the greenish-gold again for just a moment.

 

Tessa blinked at her friend, “You’re its what?”

Micah blinked back at her, almost as if she herself was under a spell, “I’m its master. I defeated it and thus the Onmyoji that controls it. It is now bound to me, like it or not,” Micah said, casting her eyes down to it. The Shiki shuddered a little as if it was as displeased with the situation as everyone else.

“Um, how?” Brand asked.

“I think,” Micah started and lost her voice. She started again, slowly. “I think it’s my ‘change.’ Remember Snow said that it could latch on to latent heritage or traditions? Well, my parents are both steeped in ancient Asian culture, even if I couldn’t give a damn, so I don’t know. I think on the brink of death…I think that something kicked in and allowed me to exert my will over the Shiki. Defeat it and thus control it,” Micah said, and her voice was filled with both relief and concern. She shrugged at the two of them after a moment.

“Fierce,” Brand breathed finally.

“Fierce?” Tessa repeated, “Are we still saying fierce?”

Brand shrugged, “What do I know?”

Tessa eyed the Shiki, still in the form of an Oni demon, the form it had taken for a time in the boathouse—bright red, with horns and bulging eyes, a grotesquely large mouth that seemed like it was smiling. It was small, no more than two and a half feet tall, but powerfully built, and it stood next to Micah, breathing loudly, small fists clenched, as if it was fighting her.

“What, what do we do with it?” Tessa asked her friend. Micah looked at Tessa like she had asked an absurd question.


We
do not do anything with it. It’s my responsibility now.”

“Okay,” Brand started more cautiously. “What are
you
going to do with it?”

Instead of answering, Micah looked down at the Shiki, which looked back up at her. It seemed like it both hated and loved her, and she it. Some kind of silent communication bounced between them. It was almost palpable to Tessa and Brand, who touched hands while watching the surreal sight. After a moment, the Shiki seemed to lose whatever mental battle they were having. Before their eyes, it shifted into a black crow. It let out a caw, flew into the air, and then landed on Micah’s shoulder. Micah looked back at her friends.

“We should get out of here. Just because I was able to get control of the Shiki doesn’t mean that Circe herself is defeated,” Micah said, walking toward the edge of the woods. Tessa and Brand looked at one another, shrugged, and followed her out.

 

The three friends walked to Tessa’s home from the cemetery. Micah’s Shiki flew not far in front of them the entire way, stopping periodically to stand on branches and caw at things. Tessa and Brand said nothing and watched their friend. Tessa wasn’t entirely convinced it
was
their friend
.

At the house, Micah went to the kitchen and got a glass of water. When she looked at Tessa over the glass, she opened the drawer that held the dishtowels and handed her one.

“No,” Tessa said, rejecting the thin, checked one Micah had extended to her. “Give me that expensive-looking grey one,” she said. Micah shrugged and gave Tessa the one she requested. Tessa pressed it
against her face and grimaced. “Are you alright?” Tessa asked Micah pointedly.

Micah looked up at her and for the first time she seemed to Tessa like she was herself again. “Yes,” she said. “It’s just, it’s a strain,” she said, nodding toward the Shiki, which shifted into a grey striped housecat and jumped onto the counter. Tessa blinked at it, shocked, but Brand brightened.

“It’s like the greatest pet ever!” he said and came up to it, intent on petting it.

“Yeah,” Micah said warily and Tessa could tell she certainly did not agree. The Shiki hissed at Brand’s hand as he reached for it and then turned to Micah, who looked back at it intently. After a moment it went to Brand, as if in apology, and sat, almost content, as Brand pet it.

“How are you shifting its shape?” Tessa asked.

“You’re doing that?” Brand asked, amazed.

“Yes, I’m doing it,” Micah nodded and then looked at Tessa. “As far as I can tell, it’s bound to me and
changes shape based on my will,” she paused and rubbed her temple. “Do you have an aspirin?”

Tessa went to the cupboard for the bottle. Micah refilled her glass and took a few, certainly more than the recommended dose, but Tessa held her tongue. “So, what now?” Tessa asked, eyeing the Shiki.

“About the Shiki?” Micah asked, “I don’t know. For now, I’ve got it, it can’t do any harm. But we need to talk about Circe.”

“What about her?” Tessa asked, watching Brand stroke the Shiki, which seemed to be softening ever so slightly on the idea of being pet.

“The Shiki had to share what it knew with me. It didn’t know everything Circe knows, but it knew a lot. It knew that Circe was working with someone. That she was tasked with keeping you busy. The Shiki was instructed to get the hair from each of us for this spell, he called it ‘The See No.’”

“See No…” Brand mused, “Is that…” he trailed off and then smacked his head as if something had just occurred to him. “Of course!”

Tessa and Micah looked at him, “What?” they asked in unison.


See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil
,” he said, looking at them pointedly.

“Oh hell,” Tessa said, marveling at its simplicity. Micah nodded. Her face had relaxed a bit, and she smiled at Brand.

“Keep petting it, it must like it. Despite the pretense, it’s fighting me less,” she said, touching her head and closing her eyes for a moment. And it did look as if the tension and energy she was expending to keep the thing in line had lessened slightly
. Tessa wondered what would happen when Micah needed to sleep but didn’t say anything out loud.

Brand glanced at Tessa, “I think maybe we need to go to the hospital for your face, it’s not healing as quickly as I would think,” he said, his mouth twisting in concern. Tessa pulled back the towel and looked at the mess of dark red, almost black
blood.

“Yeah, I know,” she said. “But I don’t think I should go to the hospital, how would I explain it? And what if they can tell I’m healing faster than normal? No. It’ll be okay, we’ve got some butterfly bandages in the kit, right?”

BOOK: Storykiller
7.16Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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