Chapter 4.2

Reiko burst into the empty bar. The bartender stood at the counter, wiping dry a pair of shot glasses.

“They’re in the back,” he motioned.

“No one else comes in, Elio,” Reiko said.

“Don’t worry. We’re already closed for the night.”

Kanna, Kazuo, and Mamoru were seated in the lounge behind the bar. Of the three, Mamoru appeared most frazzled, bobbing his knees uncontrollably. Reiko didn’t blame him.

Over half his team was missing.

“Reiko!” Kazuo exclaimed. “Good, you’re here now.”

“They’re nowhere, Kazuo,” Reiko shook her head. “We’ve been searching for the last hour. They’re probably already in the castle. We need to move.”

“Calm down, we don’t know that yet. Where are Baba Yaga’s escorts?”

“They’re waiting outside. Kazuo we have to do something.”

“We have to think things through,” Kazuo said. “Even if they were in Castle Gramarye, what would you do, Reiko? Charge in and fight five Egregore on your own? Have the government revoke Article 9?”

“Yes, we do whatever’s necessary,” she said. “They’re young, Kazuo. They’re young, talented mages that we put in harm’s way. Don’t you understand?”

“I know you feel responsible as their senior, but please, focus on the big picture for a moment. If Arataki wants them for ascension, they’re no use to him dead.”

“We also don’t understand the full picture yet,” Kanna said and fetched a folder from her purse. “My people have been digging into Tanaka Arataki. Something doesn’t add up. Reiko, from your discussion with him, he sounded fiercely anti-American, but his career was built on being a liaison to the State Department in Washington.”

“Maybe working with Americans’s where he got all his hatred from,” Reiko suggested.

“Somehow, I doubt it,” Kanna replied. “He worked overseas for twenty years before he was tapped to return home for the NPSC. That was ten years ago.”

That phrase rang in her head like a daily alarm.

“Ten years,” Reiko whispered. “There it is again.”

“You know something?” Kazuo asked.

“Just a hunch,” Reiko said. “Kazuo, did you ever look into the Brideskiller’s wife?”

“Who, Risa Sakurai? What does she have to do with this?”

“Then you didn’t know. Eberesuto was her maiden name.”

“What kind of–Wait, that would make her… Risa Eberesuto,” Kazuo looked dumbfounded. “Lisa Everest was the Brideskiller’s wife?”

“Ten years ago,” Reiko spoke as if reciting a poem. “Risa Eberesuto leaves Kosuke Sakurai, who kills eleven women on the eve of the arrival of the then newest Egregore, Lisa Everest. Ten years ago, Tanaka Arataki returns to Japan to work for the National Public Safety Commission, and in ten years time, he catches the infamous Brideskiller. Ten years ago, Natsuko Ichinose, Japan’s premier witch hunter, is found dead in Tokyo on the same night Lisa Everest leaves for America.”

“You think it’s all related?” Kazuo stroked his chin. “That’s too…”

“We had our suspicions, but Kazama confirmed them,” Reiko said. “Natsuko taught her, Kazuo. She’s the one that Natsuko taught before she died. If Kazama is being prepared as an Egregore candidate, that’s too much of a coincidence.”

“On that topic,” Kanna jumped in, “earlier, you mentioned something about the ascension, Reiko. I’d like to confirm it with you.”

Kanna’s eyes hopped to Mamoru. Based on experience and age, she figured the young man was likely the only one who didn’t know.

“He can listen,” Reiko said. “Given the circumstances, he deserves to know.”

“Right, then what you said about the ascension ritual…”

“It’s true. To initiate the ascension, a mage needs to first commit Taboo.”

“What?” Mamoru jolted forward from his knee bobbing paralysis.

Kanna ignored the outburst and asked the forensic follow up.

“...How do you know this?”

“Because I was an Egregore candidate,” Reiko answered. “The reason why I have this seal on my back, why I can’t get hurt or die, is because I tried ascension and failed.”

“Then Miyuki… and Kazama…” Mamoru said.

“Taboo doesn’t necessarily mean you go on a murder spree like the Brideskiller,” Reiko reminded. “With magic, Taboo is a violation of the world’s natural, not moral, principles, and those principles are defined by what imaginarium will or will not do.”

“But,” Kanna mused, “wouldn’t that just make every instance of Taboo an ascension ritual? If what you’re saying is true, there would be a lot more Egregore.”

“Committing Taboo is only the beginning,” Reiko explained. “Once the Taboo manifests in The Now, the candidate must prove their worth by not only destroying it but fusing its imaginarium into their body.”

Mamoru instinctively darted his eyes towards her back. Reiko grinned wryly.

“That’s right, Fujimoto. The mark on my back is proof that I failed.”

“It seems impossible to keep this a secret,” Kanna muttered.

“Egregore trials are few and far between, survivors even less so,” Reiko shrugged, “which is why we need to find Kazama and Kobayashi now, Kazuo. By the time the ascension starts, it might already be too late.”

“The ritual takes time, and we don’t know who they’re planning to choose–”

“Don’t be dumb,” Reiko snapped. “They’re going to choose Kazama.”

“Why bring both of them then?” Kazuo asked.

“As a backup, as blackmail, who knows?” Reiko scoffed. “Do you think, by sitting here, we’re going to discern the motivations of a bunch of psychopaths?”

“Careful,” Kanna warned. “Those psychopaths still have the backing of the Prime Minister and half his Cabinet. The only reason we haven’t all been arrested is because the Municipal Government’s delaying their response by investigating Miss Kazama and Miss Kobayashi’s disappearance.”

Reiko threw up her hands.

“I can’t believe you two,” she said. “What do you propose that we do? Wait until we know more? Because that worked out so well with Natsuko, didn’t it, Kazuo?”

“Reiko!” Kazuo glowered. “Don’t say something you’ll regret later.”

“Regret?” Reiko laughed. “Kazuo, that’s the only thing that I’m still able to feel. Regret, because we couldn’t save Natsuko that day when it was in our power to do so, and now someone, who may be our last tie to her, is in imminent danger, and you want to do as you’ve always done. It’s always the same with you.”

The old man burst from his seat and slammed the table with his cane.

“If you had listened and aborted the chase for the Taboo like I ordered, this would have never happened,” Kazuo roared. “You put us in this position, Reiko, and now you want to dive head first again. What if that’s what they want? Why do you think direct action is the only way to show that we care? Who is going to talk to families if something happens? Who broke the news to Natsuko’s husband and bore the blame? Who couldn’t even do the basic courtesy of showing up?”

Reiko rose to match Kazuo. He was far shorter, more diminutive in stature and form, but the unyielding fire in those wrinkled, time worn eyes was almost no different than Reiko’s; Kazuo too carried a soul that burned eternally.

“I’m heading out,” Reiko grumbled and turned away.

“No.”

“Someone needs to keep watch on Castle Gramarye,” Reiko muttered. “It’s a compromise. Figure something out, Kazuo. Kanna. Quickly. If the ascension begins, don’t stop me from going in.”

“I’m coming with–” Mamoru started.

“You’re staying here, Fujimoto,” Reiko said.

“But–”

“On this, Kazuo and I would agree. We won’t risk another junior tonight.”

Reiko walked out like a passing storm. Kazuo tried to follow, but Elio poked his bald head inside the lounge and shook his head.

“Let her go, chief,” the bartender said. “You know how she is.”

“Even more reason to stop her!”

“If you were still young, you would have been out those doors faster than her.”

Kazuo heaved an exasperated sigh. He flung his cane to the floor and fell back to the couch. His thumbs rolled over his temples.

Mamoru rushed out of his seat, ran past Elio, and stopped at the entrance.

“What kind of Taboo did you commit?” he asked.

“Fujimoto–”

“If I’m going to put Miyuki’s life in your hands,” he said, “then I need to trust you, so answer me. What kind of Taboo did you commit?”

Reiko pushed open the doorway and left Mamoru alone with her answer.

“I tried to bring the dead back to life.”