My ears drooped even further. “I agree. She looked… crushed. Betrayed.”
Yoshiko's expression became pensive. “Do you have some way of contacting her?”
“I'm sure that the agency is monitoring her communications.” I tried not to sink deeper into my seat, but I felt more powerless than I ever had in my entire six hundred years of existence. The centuries I spent enslaved to the Tsukimura clan was nothing compared to the pain of being separated from Karin.
“I don't mean with a phone or a computer,” Yoshiko corrected. “Can't you use your power to reach out to her through magic?”
“I'm not sure if I know Star well enough to cast a sending that her mind won't reflexively reject.” I ran my hands over my tail, feeling the rough patches where rapid magical healing had knitted flesh and restored fur. It was just another reminder that my world had been turned completely upside down and nothing was likely to ever be the same again.
Light reflected off the heart-shaped ruby on the ring I wore on my right hand, one-half of a matched set. My eyes widened as the realization dawned on me. The bonds between Star, Karin and myself
were
strong. Even if we never knew her real name, or how old she was or what her favorite foods were, Star still fought with us and bled with us.
Maybe that was enough.
Yoshiko reached out and placed her hand upon mine. “It's worth making the attempt, little fox. Even if you fail, you'll be no worse off than you were five minutes ago.”
“Okay. I'll try.”
I didn't want to mention that in my weakened state, even such a minor invocation would tire me quickly. For now, at least, I was safe and even if the attempt did render me helpless, I had nothing to fear here.
I stood up from the chair and walked through the kitchen to the sliding glass door that led into the back yard. A wooden deck and gazebo had been erected and furnished with chairs and a table. I closed the door behind me and sat down near the edge of the deck, looking out into the rain as the storm raged in the sky.
With slow, even breaths I drifted off into a focus trance, sharpening my will just as I'd done with the continuous invocation the previous night. Such a minor casting would normally be a simple scribing of a runic phrase, but by first attuning myself to the magic within, I could reduce the strain on my spirit.
I allowed thoughts, cares, wants and fears to drain away. With singular purity of purpose, I traced the runes of the spell. I felt the mana slowly feed into the casting, using only the absolute minimum necessary. My body began to feel heavy and an indescribable weariness settled over me, but I ignored it and pressed on.
My thoughts exploded with memories of Star, of her rare but shy and unguarded smile, her embarrassed blush as she gifted us with the rings we still wore. I felt a brief sensation like static that suddenly cleared away. I could faintly feel Star's surprise and wariness as she recognized another mind touching hers, but the contact was successful!
Star, this is Misaki. I need to talk to you. Meet me at the place where I spilled coffee on your skirt at noon tomorrow.
I felt her mind relax as the wariness receded. Without knowledge of the invocation I used to contact her, Star could not reply with words, but connected to her mind as I was, I could roughly gauge her emotional state. I felt her mind become calm and agreeable, with the faintest surge of hope.
My eyes opened and I released the connection. The mental numbness that followed the touching of minds in such a way flooded through me and my eyes started to droop against my will. I yawned tremendously, but managed to keep my wits about me as I stood up and walked back into the house.
“How did it go?”
I wasn't surprised to see Yoshiko waiting for me in the dining room, sitting at the table with a pot of tea and an empty cup waiting to be filled. She sipped at her own cup and waited patiently while I sat down and helped myself to the tea.
“How long was I out there?”
Yoshiko shrugged. “A little over two hours. Nicole and So-yi already went to bed. Being pregnant can really wear you out.”
“Speaking from experience?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual. Yoshiko snorted good-naturedly and refilled her cup of tea. I settled into the chair and took a long, slow sip. The brew was strong and bitter; Yoshiko and I both shared similar tastes in tea.
“Oh, yes. My second pregnancy in particular was
very
exhausting. Things didn't really change
after
she was born, either.”
“I think I was able to reach Star,” I murmured, trying to change the subject away from Karin before I could think too much about her. “She couldn't reply in words without also knowing how to cast a sending, but the touching of minds always allows some emotional impressions to bleed through the link.”
“What did you feel from her?”
My expression became thoughtful as I sipped my tea. “She seemed… calm, collected, much like her usual demeanor. There was the faintest swelling of hope as well. I'm sure she'll meet with me.”
“Then you should get some rest. You've got a big day tomorrow.” Yoshiko took a long swig from her tea and poured herself a fresh cup. I smiled, not without sadness, and filled my own cup again.
“I will. After I've had a few more cups of tea, of course.”
Yoshiko chuckled. “Of course.”
concordance
The little Portland coffee shop looked much the same as any other in the city, and much the same as it did the first time Star met us here, three months ago. Karin and I were working on a case that seemed routine, a botched summoning that released the specter from its binding and allowed it the freedom to cause trouble. It proved to be anything but routine, however, when it was discovered that the specter in question was more canny than most and decided to pursue profit and power over destruction.
I sat and sipped at my tea as I recalled the mission. The specter possessed the leader of a small drug operation, taking over the gang with ease and spurring it to new heights of depravity. By the time we caught up with the corrupt spirit, the gang had branched out into human trafficking. Karin and I never figured out who the specter's clients were, but we suspected an arcane house was purchasing children believed to have strong magical potential.
The case had been reassigned to internal AEGIS investigators and we moved on to the next job. After the Tsukimura operation, a noticeable rift formed between Star and her superiors. She did her best to assign us to investigation and analysis work, constantly fighting with Control's desire to put Karin's Relic to as much deadly use as possible. Despite her protests, the number of elimination missions increased greatly.
I tapped the sleep/wake button on my phone and checked the time. Star was nothing if not punctual; if she were asked to be somewhere at noon, she would arrive at or before noon, no later. It was 11:58.
I turned toward the mirrored decorative strip set into the wall nearest to me. In my reflection I saw myself: a slip of a girl appearing to be in her early twenties, with wavy, voluminous blonde hair, tinged just faintly with red. I kept my hair worn down and loosely flowing, the better to hide my lack of human ears. An oversized cloche-style hat perched atop my head, concealing my actual ears. They felt odd stuffed up inside, muffling the sounds that reached them.
Concealing my tail was a little more difficult, but the cool late fall weather gave me more options than I would have otherwise. I wore a long, heavy woolen skirt that trailed down to my ankles. The mental effort required to keep my tail from moving too much when it typically wished to swish and sway of its own accord was considerable.
The door to the cafe swung open and I glanced up, not surprised at all to see Star walk into the cafe, attired in a casual outfit of denim trousers and a white button-down blouse under a leather jacket dyed a deep nightshade purple. I did my best to keep from calling attention to either of us while she calmly ordered a cafe au lait and waited near the counter until her drink was finished.
Star sat down across from me and sipped at her coffee. “Don't use it.”
My head tilted to one side and I gave Star a quizzical look.
“Don't use my code name. Call me Meilin.”
I blinked in surprise. For nearly a year I'd known this woman as Star, to the point where I no longer considered it to be a code name. With the restrictions placed upon us by AEGIS, I never expected to learn her real name, but I wasn't surprised that she no longer wanted me to use it. It didn't take much to recognize just how betrayed she felt—I could feel it in her sense, in the way she carried herself.
“They were wrong about me,” I began, keeping my voice low and conversational, trying to avoid using specific terms that would identify either AEGIS or Karin. My companion nodded as if she'd expected this.
“I knew it. I knew he was wrong when he said it. Maybe you're barely holding it together, but you aren't going to just fade away tomorrow.”
My eyes narrowed. “You didn't volunteer that information.”
“I don't owe them anything.” Meilin's voice was sharp but not accusatory. “Not after what they did. Not after forcing me to betray you two and everything I know is right.”
“I'm sure I don't need to tell you how dangerous this is going to be.”
Meilin's expression didn't budge. Her eyes were sharp and determined as she sipped at her coffee with her usual elegant poise and grace. I understood how she felt; her principles had been badly shaken when AEGIS ordered her to step aside. It wasn't visible outwardly, but I knew that guilt had to be gnawing away at Meilin's mind over Karin's fate.
I looked into her eyes and nodded. “Okay. What do we do, then?”
“The two of us alone, without any support or equipment? And with you in a severely weakened state? There's little we can do on our own—”
“I don't believe that,” I cut in, feeling my tail lash involuntarily between my legs. “There
has
to be something we can do.”
“I didn't say we
couldn't
do anything. I said we can't do anything
alone
. We're going to need allies if there's to be any hope at all, and I have an idea where we can try and find some help.”
Disbelief spread across my face. “Who would be willing to help us?”
“There
is
a group who would be willing to help us, so long as we make it worth their while. I've worked with them in the past. At the very least, they've always been honorable in their dealings and have never once called darkness into the world.”
My eyes widened almost imperceptibly as I recognized the group Meilin spoke of. In ancient times, they were known as the Order of the Moon, a non-familial alliance of mages who dedicated their lives to archiving and preserving magical knowledge. While I wouldn't say they were especially heroic—the Order had their own agenda, of course—what Meilin said was true. The Order was the only major arcane house who categorically refused to summon specters for any purpose.
“They have no connection or loyalty to the agency?” I inquired, trying to keep any disbelief from creeping into my voice.
“None,” Meilin assured me. “The agency itself makes a point to avoid working directly with any such organizations, as it exists in opposition to most of them. I have… a personal contact within the group.”
I kept my expression neutral and wondered exactly what she meant. I could detect a faint increase in the heat rising from Meilin's cheeks and forehead, but the sharp look in her eyes didn't change.
“What assistance can we expect from them?”
“At the very least, a safe place from which to plan our next move.” Meilin took a sip from her cafe au lait, casually glancing around the coffee shop. I knew she was constantly remaining on the alert in case she'd been followed. If we wanted any chance at all to succeed, we had to make absolutely sure AEGIS kept operating on the assumption that I was doomed.
“Once we act, the agency will know the situation has changed,” she continued, ceasing her subtle visual scan of the cafe and looking me directly in the eyes. “We're going to need these allies if we want to save her and make it out of this alive.”
I swallowed hard. Meilin's tone was grim enough to indicate that she'd witnessed such brutal methods first-hand. Part of me wondered whether she actively participated, but that part was quickly silenced. Star's—no, Meilin's—convictions were strong. More than likely she was kept out of direct involvement in such things as much as possible to maintain her loyalty to the agency.
“There's one thing I still can't figure out,” I murmured, half to myself. Meilin arched one delicate eyebrow curiously. “What is the point of all of this? What is the agency trying to do? There has to be more to it than we were originally told when we first signed on.”
Meilin sighed and set her cup down. “You already know the agency operates on a cell structure: no one group knows exactly what the others are doing. You'd have to go all the way up to the top.”
“Of course, those people are hidden beneath cloaks of anonymity,” I added. “I think it's safe to assume that much of what we were told—”
“Is a load of bullshit.” Meilin's eyes narrowed dangerously. “We shouldn't discuss this too much in public. I'm reasonably sure I lost them, but those bastards in black have been keeping a close watch on me since yesterday.”
My expression went rigid. As if the universe had conspired to prove Meilin wrong, I felt a familiar sensation as tiny motes of loose mana were scattered gently. The random, chaotic nature of the deflections told me we weren't dealing with mages altering the flow of the loose mana, but people equipped with quintessence-containing Spell Engines.
“I can sense deflections,” I warned her. “They weren't fooled.”
Meilin's expression darkened. “Damn it, I thought I was being careful. I altered my route here more than enough that nobody should have been able to follow—”
“If they didn't know you were with me already, it's not going to take them long to figure out.” I stood up and took my empty teacup to the dish basin and retrieved a few napkins, nonchalantly wiping my mouth and doing my best to appear like any other customer. The door to the right, near the restroom, led outside into the alley and was left unlocked so vendors making deliveries could enter without having to go all the way around.
Meilin grabbed my arm. “You're going to slip out back and leave me here?”
“You have a better idea? If they find you with me, they're going to report back and we're going to be in a lot more trouble. If we both go, their suspicions will be raised and they'll place even tighter surveillance around you.”
“Yes, I have a better idea.” Her eyes hardened. “We take them by surprise, take them out before they can report to anyone.”
My expression became dubious. “Corpses aren't going to help us much, either.”
“We can't maintain the status quo any longer. It's inevitable that the agency will find some way to remove me from consideration if I don't act fast. We
have
to make sure that they don't find out that you're not dying.”
“I may be severely weakened, but I should still be able to wipe their memories,” I argued, not particularly happy about any plan that involved creating more human corpses than was absolutely necessary.
Her lips compressed into a thin, impatient line as she shook her head. “No. We can't leave any evidence that you were here. Besides, these aren't my people nor are they any of the hunters you've ever worked with. They don't play nice—if we don't match their resolve, we're done for.”
I didn't bother to argue any further. She was right; just knocking them out wouldn't buy us much time at all. Eliminating them permanently would give us a much wider window of opportunity. I tried to quiet my conscience down by reminding myself that they wouldn't hesitate to kill us both if they caught us. This was about survival—ours and Karin's.
I felt something cold and metal pressed into my palm—a solidly-built folding knife with an eleven-centimeter blade. I flicked the knife open and glanced over at Meilin. She flattened herself against the wall nearest the door leading to the alley.
“They're right outside,” I whispered, keeping my voice as low as possible. “I can feel the deflected motes of mana.”
“How many?”
“Two.” I closed my eyes and felt my ears twitch beneath the hat that hid them. “Only two. They don't have anyone covering the front door.”
Meilin's lips twisted into a grimace. “Trying to keep out of sight. Even if we changed plans and ran out the front, they'd be able to follow us no problem. They're covering the alley because it's the only way we can slip away unnoticed.”
I flipped the fighting knife over in my hand, swapping the position and settling into a point-down grip that would give considerable stabbing power in exchange for reach. Charging into battle without my magic didn't exactly fill me with confidence, but I
had
trained extensively with short blades, many years ago.
“I'm ready.”
Meilin eased the door open and we slipped through. Clad in black suits with the telltale bulk of armored vests beneath their button-down shirts, I instantly knew Meilin had been right—these were not AEGIS spirit hunters. Their compact automatic pistols bore the long, slender tube of a suppressor and a small cloth pouch fitted around the weapon's ejection port to catch any spent brass.
They were not observers sent to monitor Meilin's movements, but rather assassins tasked with quietly removing her from consideration.
Lips curling into a snarl that bared my fangs, I called spell-flame into existence around my free hand. The magical fire was a native part of my spiritual aspect and thus required very little mana to maintain. I shaped the flames into a whip and struck out with the fiery tendril, mentally commanding the magic to ensnare without burning.
My opponent cried out in shock and raised his pistol, trying to get a clear shot at me, but I bent the flame-whip to my will and sent him flying through the air with tremendous force to crash into his companion. The two went down in a heap, but I knew that wouldn't stop them for very long.
Meilin and I charged forward as one, taking advantage of the momentary confusion. The soldier I grabbed and used as a bludgeon was already getting back up. The odd ring of suppressed gunshots echoed in my ear as he fired at me, but I mentally yanked on the fiery tendril, dumping him on his rear and foiling his aim. Bits of masonry rained down on me as the bullets struck the building behind us.
The second assassin, the one I'd knocked over with his partner, back-stepped a meter, trying to put more distance between himself and the battle, but Meilin was faster. The prim and proper woman who spent most of her working hours behind a computer was quite a competent warrior. She dropped low and lashed out with her foot, catching the man behind the knee.