Unchosen Page 9

  “Well, that's something, I guess. And maybe no daemons will be back for a while."

  "The mirror is broken. Why would they come back?"

  Noriko sighed. "To wipe out anything remaining of Amaterasu. To finish what they started. To make it clear that just because a handful of people, most of whom didn't know daemons existed a couple of weeks ago, held off a small army, this wasn't a victory. Xharomor won't stand for it."

  "So what do we do now?" Celeste sounded even more lost than Noriko felt.

  "Nils and Hobie will want to warn the Third Tower, tell them there's no sanctuary. You should go with them when you've done all you can here."

  "And you?"

  "One of my sisters will be buried here soon, in a hero's grave. Another might join her soon, if she doesn't pull through. I left these people once, and I want Ishiko's grave to mean something... for as long as it possibly can."

  "I'll go... I'll go and see if there's anything more I can do for Emi." Celeste said.

  "You wouldn't have left her to rest if there was. Stay with me, and catch your breath, for a few more minutes?"

  "A few minutes," Celeste agreed. The pair went quiet, kneeling next to one another, with Noriko's hand on Celeste's shoulder, as the sky gradually began to lighten.

  "Noriko?" Celeste said, breaking the long silence.

  "If you want to go check on your patients, go ahead," Noriko said.

  "No, no, it's not that." Celeste's voice was gradually gaining a little of its life back. "Well, soon, but..."

  "But what?"

  "Look." Celeste was pointing at the water.

  Noriko first saw the point where the last of the blood and battle had ended, where Celeste had halted the last of the creatures just short of the water. Looking to the pond itself, she saw the gentle ripples, and felt the slight breeze, a little stronger than usual with the walls around the shrine mostly broken. She saw the various colors of the stones lining the bottom of the clear water. And then she really noticed it: the sunlight, reflecting off of the pond.

  "The Sun's mirror," Celeste said. "Can you feel that? This place is still sanctified. And I think it might be getting stronger."

  Noriko felt a momentary surge of hope, then tamped it down. "You're sure you're not just grasping at straws? I wasn't aware you were so in touch with your Shinto side."

  Celeste managed a little bit of a smile, and started to stand. "Like I said, I've been expanding my horizons.”

  “But we didn't save the mirror,” Noriko said.

  “But we did save this one,” Celeste said, pointing to the water. “Nothing reached, nothing defiled it. She's still here. I think I need to see if Emi is awake—and talk to the priestesses. There's a lot to figure out."

  "What can I do?" Noriko asked.

  "Get ready to come with us," Celeste said, putting a hand on Noriko's shoulder now. "We'll need you. And I think this place might be the literal safest place in the world for a while. And, then, uhm..." Her tone shifted, and she hesitated.

  "Yes?"

  "And you should prepare some words for Ishiko's funeral. You wanted it to all mean something... and I think she might have meant the world to a lot of people."

  Section II:

  The Third Tower

  11

  Breathing Down Your Neck

  Nils Bjornsson

  Nils had forgotten quite how cold Russia really was. The trip across the water had been one thing: specifically, it had been exhausting. He'd had to actively maintain the boat's course and speed across choppy waters the whole way into Russia, while everyone else was on high alert. By the time they had Vladivostok in sight, his fingers felt locked around the rudder. He made some efforts to stretch but found his bad leg mostly unresponsive. At least the effort helped to stave off the worst of the cold.

  Changing tasks to start casting the spells that would let them evade notice by the naval ships and city defenses—and having to get Noriko's help just to help move his leg and hand so he could do the new casting—brought full realization of that agony crashing down on him. He managed the casting, and they reached the port without being questioned, but getting out of the boat and moving nearly required Noriko dragging him, while he held on and did what he could to not be a complete hindrance.

  "I've got you," she'd said quietly. "And Hobie's got the boat. Just keep the magic up a little longer."

  There'd been no sign of the daemons in Vladivostok yet. On the other hand, there was every sign of their influence. The military presence around the city was high, just as it had been as they navigated around warships to get into the port. They preserved the boat, since they'd need it in order to use the riverways to move West with any speed.

  Thankfully, once they'd managed to liberate a boat carrier, Hobie was able to tow the boat reasonably quickly through the city. For Nils, it was an extremely bumpy ride, but better than the alternative—a fact which he quickly illustrated when they reached the riverways and he tried to get out on his own so that the boat could be moved. Nils quickly found that his twisted leg wouldn't support him, while the other mutated bits of his body felt like dead weight, and he would have gone sprawling had Noriko not caught him and half-carried him.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  Getting back into the boat was a small relief as they took a few moments for Celeste to do what she could to ease some of the pain, fatigue, and chill. Unfortunately, it also required renewed spellcasting on his part, both to drive the boat along again and now to avoid notice by Russian patrols, when all he really wanted was to take a long rest somewhere warm, to try to get some of the deep ache out of his bones. He knew all too well that they had a lot of river in front of them and nowhere at all warm to go to.

  He was startled back to wakefulness when the boat began to rock. Spells hurried back to mind as he recalled the encounter with the drowned priests back on the ocean, though they were in the wrong spot for that. This time, the rocking was being caused by a solitary figure, a somewhat frog-faced old man, covered in seaweed, holding on tight. Nils let the spell die in his mind when he realized there was no effort being made to capsize the boat, just get their attention.

  "Vodyanoi. He's not trying to hurt us. At least yet," he called to the others, as they were in the midst of reacting as well. The creature had looked like he might dive back beneath the water as Noriko and Hobie stood and headed for him, but when Nils's assurance stopped them, the creature maintained his hold on the boat, and said something in a very old dialect of Russian. Nils caught the part about 'No more.'

  "'No, no further. No more bodies. They killed her. They killed her, and I was too late,'" Hobie translated helpfully after three repetitions. Nils cut off the annoyed sigh, reflecting that, out of all of the languages he knew, many fluently, of course they'd need one of the handful Hobie had a better grasp on.

  Even there, it took a while, with Hobie needing to hear things three or four times, occasionally with contextual help from Nils. "He keeps saying 'They killed her. They killed her. She would sing to me and bring me food. She would not come in the water, for fear of my cousins, but she was my friend,'” he relayed after verifying a few things with the old river spirit.

  "The vodyanoi can be good, evil, or just mischievous," Nils said. "This one seems to be benevolent, but his friend was probably smart to not get into the water. Especially if his cousins were around."

  Hobie didn't pass on the commentary but gestured for the vodyanoi to continue. After a lot of Russian, he eventually explained more. "The 'howling things full of poisoned magics' killed her. He couldn't save her. He drowned three of the 'evil spirits,' wrapped them in seaweed, and carried them to the depths, but he couldn't save her.” Hobie listened to the old batrachian river spirit further and started to look puzzled.

  “Nils, can you explain why his cousins have cups, why the I'm-guessing-daemons are 'in the cups now,' and why he's more happy about that than he apparently normally is about these cups?”

  "Some of their cousin-spirit
s, the vodnici, were said to store the essence of the drowned in porcelain cups," Nils said.

  “Well, okay then. And it sounds like the daemons got the girl's whole family. No one left to mourn. Sounds like we're not headed straight for the place where it happened. I'm trying to tell him we're not going to be corpses here, and we'll try not to put anyone in danger. That's right, right?”

  “Right,” Nils said. And he very much noted that his brother said 'here.'

  Celeste spoke up, sliding out her rosary. "And tell him I'll pray for his friend. For her to find rest.”

  Once Hobie got the idea across, there was enthusiastic nodding, which sprayed the boat with cold water and bits of slime from the river bottom. Then the vodyanoi disappeared beneath the water, reappearing with a silver necklace, offering it over with more words.

  Hobie had to ask him to slow down several times, before translating. "I was too late. There is no one left to mourn or bury her, and her necklace is too painful. I can almost hear her singing to me still. Please."

  Celeste nodded, and took the necklace. "Tell him of course. What was her name?”

  That took less time to translate. "Nadezhda. She would sing to me. And throw food to the waters. And I was too late. Too late. Nadezhda. And now there is no one left to mourn."

  At Celeste's request, they headed for the shore. "Hobie, tell him he can mourn. We'll join him.”

  Nils could readily admit they certainly had plenty to mourn for already.

  He didn't have to steer the boat to shore. The vodyanoi disappeared under the water, and the boat moved swiftly to a point where they could disembark. Getting out of the boat, however, brought all of the deep ache and pain of movement again. Noriko had to help, often practically carrying him, every step of the way. By the time she helped him get settled, Celeste had all of her supplies out and readied for a simple funerary service.

  Nils knew all the Latin Celeste was singing. He would have even if “Requiem aeternam dona eis,” had been hard. Which it wasn't, because even though Latin wasn't Hobie's strongest suit, he was able to translate for the vodyanoi, who never came fully on land. But even though he knew all the words, Nils made no attempt to sing along. Instead, he let himself just analyze this little interlude in his head.

  The late Nadezhda probably hadn't been Catholic, much less have ever heard of anything like Celeste's particular syncretism. The girl would have been some combination of Rodnovery and Orthodox traditions, probably. But the song was haunting and soothing and bore a faith and hope that would have bothered the daemons. Perhaps that could be enough. Nadezhda might find peace in the way a foreign cleric buried the last remnant of her, just as Celeste herself had participated peripherally in a traditional Shinto funeral. But then his mind wasn't on Celeste's expanding horizons. He was looking at Noriko, who was sitting through this funeral with her poker face on.

  When it was done, the river spirit started to turn to submerge again, then paused and spoke.

  Hobie listened carefully, twice through. "He says he has another friend. A friend who is not dead. A very small witch. If we'll let him steer the currents, he'll take us to her. And he says not to go into China. There's many howling things there now, and he can't drown them all."

  There was some discussion among the group, but with Nils quickly wearing down, and after the interaction with the creature so far, they agreed to go along with it for now. Nils could rest while Celeste and Noriko kept a close eye on the vodyanoi. Hobie passed the word along, and, once everyone was back in the boat, it began to move swiftly along the river.

  Without need for him to steer, Noriko helped Nils settle in at the middle of the boat, where she could sit next to him for added warmth. Celeste did what more she could for Nils in the meantime, unpacking everyone's blankets and trying to ease his pain—and the fatigue, and the chills—with her gifts.

  They were some way north, nearer to Khabarovsk than Nils could estimate they'd have gotten on their own by this point, when the boat pulled up near a small village. Again the vodyanoi surfaced, holding on to the front of the boat. Hobie passed word along for him, slowly translating almost word for word. "His friend should be here by nightfall. We should wait for her. He wishes to guard his own home from invaders, now that Nadezhda is at rest, and her necklace is safe from his cousins' collections. But he wishes us well and reminds us not to go into China."

  They pulled the boat back up onto land and waited. Just before dark, a slender woman with dark red hair did show up at the camp, looking at the group suspiciously. Nils sighed with relief as, after a little bit of back and forth, they found out her English was better than Hobie's Russian.

  "Roza," she introduced herself. "The Grandfather bring you here?"

  They passed on the story, and she slowly relaxed. "If you do not mind safeguards, I can offer news, food, and fire. But only one night. Too many of us in one place, ne! Opasno! Too dangerous. Cannot risk more.” She raised a finger at the sky. “But one night...okay."

  "I think everyone being a little paranoid is very much understandable," Nils said. After a brief discussion with the group, with Celeste voicing strong support of getting Nils in front of a fire, it was agreed. “We accept.”

  Roza's home turned out to be on the edge of the village. She had a large garden, a scrupulously clean room set aside for midwifery, all the other trappings of a healer, and a house generally full of odds, ends, and all manner of wards designed to deflect supernatural attention and keep darker spirits at bay, should they bypass the first. Celeste, in particular, seemed put at ease by the place, and Nils had to admit, as he assessed the general style of the wards, it also helped him feel a little better about the vodyanoi she called The Grandfather.

  Once Roza had provided a thick potato soup and gotten a good fire going, she told them basic information about the village, which the women in her family had apparently served as midwives and healers for generations. The woman seemed deeply concerned with keeping the place—and particularly her daughter—uninteresting to daemons, for which Nils couldn't blame her a bit.

  "The Grandfather was right; you should not go into China. You are heading...West? Let us leave it at saying 'West.' I know getting West with the Amur River looks tempting. But daemons know it too. Also lot of population centers. After Tokyo, the things found China. Russia, too, but not so much, especially out in open spaces. You should keep going north, past Khabarovsk, and then out through middle of Russia."

  Celeste looked at Nils and opened her mouth, likely with one of her anti-omelet objections about Nils's walking in the intense, dry cold of the mainland. He shook his head slightly, and she looked back to Roza.

  "Thank you, we'll keep that in mind. You mentioned rooms? My friend really needs to rest."

  "He looks it. And younger one is more hurt than he wants to show.”

  “Ma'am, you bet I believe that,” Celeste sighed. Nils hoped this wouldn't make Hobie sulk.

  “I will show you rooms,” Roza said. “And while your friends settle in, you and I will talk until my daughter wakes. Looking at your bag, I think I can help you restock, on some things at least.”

  Nils was still trying to analyze the situation, though he had to admit he was getting exhausted. “It’s going to take discussion and coordination to find cold-climate plants that will still fulfill functions of those of a wetland-area tradition,” he warned.

  “Yes, it will,” Celeste said. “And you can leave that discussion to the professionals. I don't tell you how to meddle in the unspeakable, Nils.”

  Roza showed them to rooms about the house, usually used for letting patients rest.

  Noriko helped Nils get his boots off, then helped him with settling in.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Again.”

  “You're welcome,” she muttered as she started seeing to her small ceremony. With utmost reverence, she moved a small mat that was next to the bed, knelt in front of it, and unpacked Ishiko's katana and Aki's off-hand fan. Noriko's now. They'd been passed to h
er. He didn't interrupt her while she prayed and mourned over the weapons and then set to meticulously oiling and cleaning first the katana, and then the war-fan. When she was done, she closed and sheathed them.

  There was no lightning in this transformation, as she held these things. There was only light. After days—how was it really only days—of seeing Noriko stuck ready for battle, the everyday form of his literal high school sweetheart in the pristine uniform of their dead high school was almost a shock.

  She looked so small.

  Noriko wrapped both weapons back up. “This should be a relief,” she said. She set them on a table next to the bed where she could reach them easily. “I can think clearly now.” She climbed into bed. “I'm… not sure that I want to.” Her voice cracked.

  He then let her roll over and snuggle into his side, burying her face in his shoulder while she cried for a while.

  When she'd settled, she propped herself up on her elbows, looking at him, a number of the scratches, her broken nose from the fight with the Huntsman, and hints of her black eye all still evident, if faded thanks to Celeste's work. "So, that's a win? Are all the victories going to be that rough?"

  He wished he had more to tell her. "We survived. And Ise is safe. They were planning on taking as many refugees as they could."

  Noriko nodded, quiet for a moment again. Then, “The freaking Huntsman, Nils!” she wailed, and he reached to smooth her hair back, nodding sympathetically as he met her gaze. She needed to say this. “They'd already taken the tower, but when they went to ravage my country and kill or…or maim my sisters, Xharomor didn't even send the King of Monsters or the Soul Witch or even a shocking traitor. Not anyone who was even vying for Prophesied Lieutenant, just Evil Indiana Jones in his Final Form!”

  “Not in the prophecies, in this case, just means even more alien.” He tried to keep his voice clear and even. “This was a highly ranked being from the Otherrealm, practically a junior-grade Otherlord, and you helped kill it. You defended one last vestige of sanctity. Now we have hope for getting an angle on even a magically-translated prophecy, and there is hope for Japan.”