Chapter 64: The Heart of the Parlor

Hachiro stares at his black-dust-covered arm. He stares at the fainted Yogawa. He stares at the space where the wall used to be.

"He... is... a GOD!" Hachiro breathes.

"He... is a key," Kizawa corrects, his voice a low growl. He gets to his feet.

He is in agony. The Rekka-moss on his back is smoking. But he is alive.

He stalks over to Yogawa. He slaps him. Hard.

"WAKE UP!"

Yogawa gasps, his eyes fluttering open. "It... hurts..."

"It... will hurt more if you stop," Kizawa snarls. He hauls him to his feet. "We... are not done."

He is right.

A new wall is already rising in front of us. The Spinner King is rebuilding his trap.

"Yogawa! NOW!" I yell.

"I... I... cannot!" Yogawa pants, his nose bleeding freely. "It... takes everything I have!"

"Then... FIND MORE!" Hachiro roars. He slams his one good fist into his own chest. "DO IT!"

Yogawa looks at the rising black wall. He looks at Kizawa's *cold, murderous eyes.

He screams in frustration and slams his hand on the grimoire.

"I... COMMAND YOU... TO BE NOTHING! A FALSE CONCEPT!"

The wall shatters mid-formation.

"GOOD," Kizawa grunts. "AGAIN."

We move forward. We are a battering ram. Kizawa in the lead, a blade of pure will. Me beside him, my arrow scanning for threats. Hachiro behind us, dragging, pushing Yogawa forward.

And Yogawa... Yogawa is our artillery.

Wall after wall rises.

And Yogawa screams, his voice growing hoarse, blood now leaking from his ears. He is killing himself with the effort.

"I... COMMAND... IT... TO BE SAND!"

A wall crumbles.

"I... COMMAND... IT... TO BE AIR!"

A wall dissolves.

We are a team again. We are a single, furious, broken weapon.

We break through the last wall.

The noise... stops.

The vibration... stops.

The silver light is gone.

We stumble out into a new space. A chamber. The true center of the parlor.

It is dark.

No... not dark.

It is lit by a single, faint, golden light.

"Mizuki..." Kizawa breathes.

She... is there.

She is in the center of the vast chamber, kneeling.

Her long hair, a river of pure silver and gold, is spread out around her on the silken floor.

She... is in a cocoon.

Not... a cocoon of silk.

A cocoon of her own GOLDEN FLAME.

It is a faint, flickering, desperate fire. A shield of pure Will.

And... outside it.

Circling her.

Are the shadows.

Royal Assassins. Stalkers. Dozens of them. More than I can count.

They are waiting. They are a pack of wolves, waiting for the fire to die.

They are in a standoff.

As we watch, Mizuki's flame flickers violently. She... is exhausted.

One... of the Assassins darts in.

Mizuki cries out, and the flame flares, pushing it back.

But... it is weaker this time.

Then... she looks up. Her head snaps toward us.

Her face is pale, streaked with sweat and grime. But her eyes... are fire.

She... sees Kizawa.

A faint, cracked, unbelievably beautiful smile touches her lips.

"Took... you... long enough."