With a wave of relief, I follow the girl behind the kitchen and down a small hall. I look behind me once to see Lake walk in, his leather jacket blending in with the rest of the college-age kids in leather. The braids girl opens a door labeled BREAK ROOM, and motions for me to go in with a wink.
“She’s not as much of a hardass as she seems. Good luck. I’m Kelly, by the way. Hopefully we’ll be working together soon.”
I try my best smile, and walk in. Kelly closes the door behind us, and I turn to face the woman sitting at the round table in the center of the room. Her hair is long and wavy and honey-blonde, and though she has a casual sweater and jeans on, her face is set and serious.
“Hi,” I smile and walk over, offering my hand to her. “I’m Mia Redfield, here for the interview.”
“I know who are,” The woman says stonily. “I read your resume, after all.”
I sit in the chair she motions to, and inwardly curse my luck. She’s a complete business-minded lady. Her questions are relentless - where did I used to work? What position was I in? Did I have any complaints from my boss? Thankfully, I can answer no to the last one. Finally, she sits back in her chair, eyeing me carefully.
“Anything else you want to tell me, Mia?”
A man died because of me. Two men. The homeless man was the second.
My father was the first.
I squeeze my fists and force a smile. “No. That’s about it, I think.”
“You’ll forgive me if I seem forward,” The woman says. “But I took the liberty of running a background check on you. You’ve had several minor incidents with the police in the past three years.”
My shame is instant and hot on my face. “Ah, those. I’m not too proud of those years. I was a terrible teenager.”
“And you said on your resume you were expelled from the University of Washington. In your first year.”
“Yes.”
The woman studies me, then lets out a puff of air. “I’m sorry, Ms. Redfield. I would normally consider you, but all of those things combined with that thing on your face? It doesn’t sound like you’re suited to work anywhere. Especially not in my cafe.”
Her words sting harder than killer wasps. She said ‘that thing’ like it was a revolting slug, not a scar. My shame condenses as hot wetness in my eyes, but I blink them back and look up.
“Alright. Thanks for your time, anyway.”
The bus ride home is equally miserable. I throw myself onto my mattress on the floor and sob. The mistakes of the past are etched too deeply in me. On me. They won’t let me move on. No matter how hard I try, I can’t get past what I did - the evil swallowing me whole. It’s hours until I’m calm enough to sit up again. But even that’s cut short by a rough knock at my door. Is it Ellie? I check the time on my phone - she should’ve been home hours ago. Did she go out for dinner or something?
My heart sinks as the knocking becomes frantic. I get up and look through the hole - Lake. I open it.
“They’ve got her,” Lake pants. “The Mutus have Ellie.”
PART ELEVEN
ELEVEN
Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Lake strides in after me, his face white and strained. He checks the beetles - all of them fluttering their wings on the doorways and windowsills. In my angst I didn’t notice they were fluttering at all. How long had they been like that? He touches the floor with two fingers and closes his eyes, as if he’s sensing something. And then, in front of my eyes, he turns. His body compacts, becoming smaller and smaller, his head shrinks and it takes all my willpower not to freak out. He grows so small he disappears beneath his leather jacket, a moving lump in his place. Before I can pull the jacket away, a large orange tabby cat leaps from beneath it. I’ve seen him like this only once or twice before, but only when I was too distressed to really notice him. He’s a powerful tom cat, all rippling muscle and large head, practically the size of a medium dog, with impressive fangs that protrude over his mouth.
The cat meows once, then leaps out the living room window. I watch as he jumps from rooftop to rooftop with incredible ease. He stops on a red roof and meows loudly, like he’s calling for someone. An ash-gray cat leaps onto the roof, and they stare at each other wordlessly for a minute, before Lake comes bounding back. I move away, and he soars into the window and burrows under his coat. The shape beneath the coat expands rapidly, arms and legs righting themselves, and Lake straightens, his hair wild and his eyes fierce. He keeps his jacket close around him, but I can see flashes of his bare chest beneath it.
“They drugged her, and took her in a cab. They said something about a warehouse on the loading pier. They’re probably taking her to the docks. I can ambush them there if I leave now.”
“I’m coming with you,” I say.
“What’re you gonna do?” Lake scoffs. “Your scent will just tip them off that we’re there, and drive them crazy.”
“That’s probably what they want! If you leave me here alone they’ll come after me.”
“Shit,” Lake hisses. “You’re a smart one, princess. Alright, look, you’re coming with me. But we have to make a pitstop, first.”
We drive to the east fringe of Chinatown, where my gentrified neighborhood gives way to billboards advertising immigration lawyers and lopsided chinese/japanese/english signs advertise nail salons and sketchy pawn shops. The smell of fried dough and coriander fills my lungs, and red enamel dragons wind around every streetlight. Lake pulls into an alley behind a fortune-teller’s shop. He bows and smiles at two elderly women sharing a pipe on the veranda. One of them smiles back, the other glances at me and says something in rapid Chinese. Lake says something back, and the woman’s eyes relax. She motions for us to go in.
Lake pulls me inside the shop. Scents of jasmine mixed with incense make my head spin, and my anxiety for Ellie’s safety worse. Jade Buddhas and mother-of-pearl quilin line one bookshelf, and gorgeous paper fans in every color of the rainbow hang open on the walls.
“Why are we here?” I ask. “And since when do you speak Chinese?”
“We need a good alchemist,” He says. “And the Reapers teach us every major language. C’mon.”
He leads me down the hall to a small kitchen. A pot of chicken boils on the stove, the smell making my mouth water. A gorgeous woman sits at the linoleum table, her black hair glossy and pulled back into a soft bun. She wears a simple gray dress, and her skin is peach-kissed ivory. She looks up when we come in, and smiles.
Her eyes are completely white - clouded. She’s blind.
“Lake,” Her voice is quieter than moonlight and just as smooth. “It’s been too long.”
Lake bows deeply. “Sorry, Zhen. Mia, this is Zhen, the best alchemist in Chinatown. Zhen, this is -”
Zhen gets up quickly, and makes her way to me without missing a beat. She holds my hand in two of hers, and looks right at me.
“Did you like Avalanche?”
The question is jarring. I look to Lake, but he just nods.
“Y-Yes,” I say. “She’s a very sweet wolf.”
Zhen smiles and pulls away. “She likes you, too.”
“How do you -”
“I made her,” Zhen says, then giggles behind her hand. “And I can smell her on you. She must’ve liked you very much to leave such a powerful scent.”
“Zhen,” Lake interrupts. “We’re here for -”
“I know what you’re here for, darling,” Zhen interrupts lightly. “I knew it the moment she walked in. It comes with a price.”
“You can put it on the Reaper tab,” Lake insists. “We need it now.”
“Tsk tsk,” She clicks her tongue. “Someday you’ll be patient, and that will be the day the bay dries up.”
She practically floats over to the kitchen counter, and picks up a pen. She rummages in a drawer full of old receipts, and fishes one out. After she smooths the wrinkles from it, she writes on it with the pen. I can barely see the Chinese kanji on it. When she’s finished, she
turns to me with a smile.
“This might sting.”
Before I can blink, she smacks the receipt onto my forehead. It’s not a hard hit, barely enough to make my head go back. Somewhere, I hear dishes crack, and the ground below me shakes like a split-second earthquake. It subsides quickly. Her smell is jasmine and pine, and her hand is cool. When she pulls away, I expect the receipt to be hanging in my face. I feel for it, but it’s gone. I turn to Lake, but he’s suddenly on the ground, kneeling and panting.
“W-What the fuck, Zhen?” He coughs as he stands. “You could’ve warned me!”
“I’m sorry,” She giggles. “You wanted it fast. So I gave it to you fast.” Zhen turns to me with mirth dancing in her white eyes. “They won’t be able to sense you, now. No one will, for at least an hour.”
“Just an hour? A whole earthquake for an hour? You feeling off your game or something?” Lake straightens, brushing off his jacket.
“It’s the best I could do. Her Azoth is too strong to suppress for very long.”
Lake thanks her, and ducks out of the doorway. Zhen smiles at me.
“I’m sorry this visit was so short, Mia. But I know we’ll meet again soon. Good luck rescuing your friend.”
“Thank you,” I can’t help but grin at her. She calls me back as I follow Lake outside.
“Be careful of Darius, darling,” Her white eyes are suddenly serious and set, like sandstone and marble. “He is strong, but no homunculus is stronger than the hunger.”
Her words echo in my chest. I warily walk out to the curb, and Lake. He puts on his helmet, and I do the same.
“How does she know so much?” I ask. “Is she psychic?”
“Shhh!” Lake hisses. “Not here. She can hear you. Damn girl’s got ears like a bat.”
The Chinese grandmas watch us go, coughing and shaking their fists at Lake’s motorcycle exhaust. My stomach twists itself into double knots as the highway flashes by. I wish now more than ever I had a weapon, a gun. Something, anything. But the last time I had one I did something unforgivable, something I promised I’d never do again. But if Ellie needs me, if Ellie’s in danger, I’ll do it again. I’ll do anything.
The smell of salty air alerts me to the fact we’ve arrived. Lake parks his motorcycle near the pier, where kids eat cotton candy with sticky hands and tired parents take pictures of them, the ocean, the sky. The beach isn’t really a beach - mostly rocks and kelp rotting in the moonlight. Lake takes his helmet off.
“We’ll walk from here. I know a shortcut.”
“What’s the plan?” I try to tame my seething nerves by watching the ocean break. I missed the ocean the most when I went back to Idaho.
“We take the shortcut to the loading docks, and I talk with the locals, see if I can’t find out where they’re keeping Ellie.”
“And by ‘locals’ you mean the cats, right?”
He smirks. “Shocked you, huh.”
“It shocks me every time, Professor McGonagall.”
“Except I’m not. Witches and wizards aren’t real,” He drawls.
“But you still traded your soul.” I say. Lake smirks.
“Wasn’t much of a soul to trade, sweetcheeks. To be honest, I got the better end of the bargain.”
He goes quiet. We walk down the beach path, and for a moment it’s like we’re just two kids out enjoying the night, not going to rescue my friend from a cult that wants to kill me. I breathe in, and out. Lake breaks the tension with a sigh.
“Zhen’s special. Sort of. She comes from a rich old Chinese family, the kind related to royalty, you know?”
“Why is she blind?”
“Her dad,” Lake frowns. “Was an alchemist. The Chinese got real good at it, you know. They practiced it before Nicholas Flamel reintroduced it, but it was kept all hush-hush between families. Zhen’s dad sacrificed his daughter’s eyes to make himself chancellor.”
Slow horror creeps over me. Lake smiles bitterly.
“It worked, of course. But he got assassinated three days later. Her eyes were worth becoming chancellor, but not for more than three days.”
I’m quiet. Lake’s voice gets bright.
“Lots of good came out of it, though - Zhen became a celebrated alchemist in her own right. She moved to America to start a new life, and controls pretty much all of Chinatown now, alongside the drug lords and black market weapons guys. She keeps them from doing anything too evil on her turf.”
“You said she’s a good alchemist, right?”
“Oh, the strongest alchemist in Chinatown for sure.”
“Who’s the strongest in the city, then?”
“Darius,” He says, without missing a beat.
“The state?” I try.
“Darius.”
“The…country?”
“Darius,” Lake smirks. “The strongest alchemist in the world is also Darius, in case you were wondering. The Sage Council wants you to believe it’s one of them, or all of them, but don’t let them fool you. The idiot Archdukes of the Mutus will tell you the same thing. But it is - and always will be - Darius.”
Lake’s smirk fades quickly when we near a haunted house attraction on a pier.
“Alright, princess. This is it.”
“We don’t have time to go in a haunted house!” I snap. “Ellie is -”
“It’s the shortcut. C’mon.”
I follow him warily, confusion clouding my mind. He nods at the ticket booth, where a wizened old man with a shock of gray hair nods back, his smile showing off his gold tooth. Lake leads me inside, the darkness swallowing us up. A fog machine coughs out acrid smoke, and a cheesy halloween-sounds CD plays from tinny hidden speakers.
“How the hell is this a shortcut?” I hiss, stepping around an animatronic witch that leaps out at me and cackles. Lake brushes fake spider web out of his hair.
“There,” He points. A bright red glow comes from a room at the end of the hall. We walk in, and I almost jump out of my skin - four hooded figures stand around a demonic-looking circle on the ground, etched with symbols and letters. It glows red, lit from behind by LED lights.
Lake grabs my hand and pulls me into the circle.
“Don’t move,” He says, then looks to the figures. “Bicallis!”
The figures raise their arms in tandem, hoods shifting, and it’s then I realize they’re not people - they’re animatronic robots, with no facial features. I cling to Lake as the red circle beneath us glows brighter, then turns blue all at once. I look up, the sound of the ocean much closer now, the cheesy scare CD totally gone. It’s lighter in here all of a sudden, and the fake plastic tombstones and cobwebs are gone. Smooth rock floors and walls surround us. Lake takes my hand and pulls me towards a rusted door. Seagulls call, and I can feel the salt spray on my face. The ocean is right in front of us. I look back - a tiny stone bunker embedded in the rocks of a pier is where we came from, the rusted door shut tight now. Lake smiles at me.
“Not so bad, right?”
“What the hell just happened?” I squint and look around - there isn’t a sign of the haunted house as far as I can see. We’re in a totally different place.
“Old portals,” Lake starts picking over the rocks, moving towards a steel staircase that leads up to the pier. “Built by the ancient Reapers. Only half-souls can use them.” He laughs at the shocked look on my face. “We had to get the edge on the Mutus somehow.”
“How did you know it was there?”
“We can sense ‘em,” He mutters. “Kinda like…like hearing a noise that bugs you, so you follow it to see what it is.” Lake glances around. “I’m gonna do reconnaissance. You stay here, stay out of sight.”
I nod, and watch his body grow small under his coat again. He darts off, paws kicking up sand until he’s nothing more than a ginger dot in the distance. I sit in the sand and hug my knees, trying not to think of what the Mutus are doing to Ellie. They wouldn’t hurt her, if it’s me they want. She’s in deep shit because of me. I’ve hurt her
, just by being my friend she’s getting terrified and confused and god knows what else. The guilt waits with dark jaws to swallow me whole, but I fight it and gasp for air.
Not again.
I won’t let someone get hurt because of me ever again.
My scar throbs, and I stroke a flat stone to take my mind off it. It feels like forever until Lake comes back, rubbing his head on my legs and purring. He burrows under his jacket, transforming back to his human body. He pulls his pants on and shoots me a grin, though I look away quickly to give him privacy.
“She’s fine. They took her into warehouse 5D, just down the block. They’re treating her alright, apparently.”
Relief floods me, and then confusion. “Why? I thought they were supposed to be ruthless cultists?”
“I dunno. It’s weird for them to not at least beat her up. But we have to get her out before they move her. There’s at least twenty of their guys there, not counting their Munkie pets. In total? Probably forty or so. And I’m good, but I can’t fight off forty. I have to sneak in, and I can do that, as long as there’s just slightly less of them paying attention. There’s only one thing that will hold their attention long enough for me to get her out.”
His emerald eyes lock on me. My gut twists again, but it hurts less this time. My response is instant.
“Okay. I’ll do it.”
***
I’ve never been more afraid in my life.
That’s a lie. Of course I have. The night Dad broke the bottle on my head I was much more afraid. But I wasn’t scared. You learn real quick when you live in constant fear that there’s different shades to it - scared, afraid and terrified. Scared is a tense anxiety, a gnawing in your gut you can’t get rid of. Afraid is stronger, when you know something bad is going to happen but can’t do anything to stop it. Terrified is something else entirely - deep and primal, a shark in dark water, a thousand feet between you and the ground as you stand on a suspended steel beam. Terrified is paralysis, numbness, feeling like your brain is floating out of your head; a total body lockdown.
Right now, I’m just afraid.
Afraid they’ll hurt Ellie. Afraid the plan will go south. Afraid Lake won’t rescue her. Afraid they’ll get me and feed me to their homunculus, or worse - keep me a prisoner for my Azoth.