And this is the part where the story becomes darker, filled with
backstory and even more references.

	I'm unsatisfied with the ASCII device for za'Tsara'vor.  It's
speech is bold in the Word version, and I've tried both ALL CAPS and
_sort_of_underlined_ and wasn't happy with either.  Any ideas, lets me
know.  I left it as underlined here -- try to imagine it in bold, or
something.

	As always, I'd like to hear any and all C&C.  Let me know if you
missed previous chapters or some such, I'm happy to send them out.

Django Wexler (khaine)
khaine@mindless.com

"These findings make it clear that when it comes
to the problem of fighting terrorism, nutrition may
play a far more important role than previously
believed."
	-The Onion

Chapter Eight         

   [Being nearly killed], thought Mary, [really throws off your sleep
schedule.]  She'd woken up at just after one PM, gone back to sleep at
five in the morning after spending most of the day watching Sumiko mope
and getting deeply involved in a nice mindless shoot-em-up game she'd
borrowed from Lia.  Now it was six in the afternoon on the following
day, and Mary had awoken refreshed and brimming with pent-up energy.

   [Something's going to happen soon.  I can feel it.]  She wasn't sure
whether it was some prescient sense or just wishful thinking.  In either
case, the hours passed slowly -- television had lapsed into the mid-week
doldrums of Simpsons reruns and Elimidate, she couldn't sit still long
enough to play any games, and Robyn wasn't answering her phone.  [She
said she was out on a date.  I wonder...]

   That led to a hot, prickly feeling that she refused to acknowledge.
[Good for her.  Robyn needs to get out more.]  Still, it did little to
alleviate her boredom.  It was almost a relief, therefore, when the
Barrier energy blossomed white-hot and searing in the back of her mind.
Mary jumped off the couch, tore up the stairs, and met Sumiko in the
hallway.

   "Do you feel that?"

   "Yeah."  Sumiko shook her head.  "Feels...big."

   Mary was too excited to care.  "I'm heading after it.  You coming?"

   "Y...yeah."  Sumiko trailed after her as she headed back downstairs.
"But Mary..."

   "What?"

   "Are you sure we should go after this thing?  Last time..."

   Mary rounded on her.  "First of all, we have to -- if we don't go
after it, there's no telling what it might do.  Second of all, you can't
let what happened back there get to you.  Listen."  She took her friend
by the shoulders and brought her face close.  "You do your best.  No one
can fault you for that.  You can't let it get to you."

   Sumiko shook her head again, in either admiration or pity. "Gods,
Mary."

   "What?"

   "I don't think anything gets to you."

   [I wonder what it would take to get to you.]  The demon's voice from
her dream echoed oddly, and she had a sudden vision of his skull-like
face with its mismatched eyes.  Mary ignored it, and smiled grimly.
"After a while, you get used to it."

   "Get used to people *dying*?"

   "Yeah."  She shrugged.  "This is a war, you know."

   Sumiko had no further comment and Mary pulled on her shoes, fetched
her jacket, and looked around the now-empty house.

   "Where's Lia?"

   "At a friend's."  Sumiko finished tying her own shoes.

   "What about Kei?"

   "I'm here."  The demon descended the stairs as though on cue.  She
looked a little the worse for wear, as though she hadn't slept since the
fight, but Mary wasn't sure how such things really applied to demons.  

   "Do you plan on coming?"

   "Of course."  Kei smiled thinly.  "I have to see what my comrades are
up to now."

   "Okay."  Mary closed her eyes and turned her head, trying to pinpoint
the sensation.  "West.  Towards the river.  Follow me."

   [There's something nice, about sharing this with someone.]  Aku had
been right, although she'd never admit it.  [It's not as bad as it used
to be.  In fact], she thought, as building after building zipped
underfoot in the early evening twilight, [I'm almost having fun.]

 

   "Another Barrier penetration."

   Rin snapped out of her light doze and put her hands on the wheel.
"Already?"

   "The demons are moving quickly, Agent Rin.  We must prepare to meet
them."

   "Where?"

   "The railyard, near the river.  Drive."

   The black sedan came to life with a powerful roar.  "Do you think
it'll be anything like the last one?"

   Deus' mouth was set in a hard line.  "We shall see.  But I am afraid
that it might.  Call the MTA and have them shut down all the trains on
this line -- we wouldn't want to see things interrupted."

 

   The long, arcing parabola of Mary's flight ended on top of an old
transformer, now bereft of its black power lines and standing like the
skeleton of some angular beast on the hill that overlooked the railway.
Sumiko hung beside her, one hand and one foot on the metal rail, and Kei
landed lower down.  Mary peered towards the river.

   "Nothing."

   The rail station was a pit, where the actual trains ran, flanked by
two long concrete walkways with an overpass between them.  Then there
was a strip of grass perhaps a hundred feet wide that supposedly counted
as a 'park', then the river.  At eight in the evening, the place was
more or less abandoned -- there was no movement anywhere.

   "Now what?"  Sumiko kept her voice to a whisper, more from instinct
than necessity.

   "He's down there somewhere."  They were nearly on top of the demon,
and the Barrier energy clinging to him was enough to almost swamp her
direction sense.  "I'm going to go down and see if I can bait him into
the open.  When he comes out, you two try and jump him.  Got it?"

   Mary could see that Sumiko was on the point of objecting, and fixed
her with a cold stare.  She subsided.  Kei merely nodded obediently.

   [Not that it's a great plan.]  She took a flying leap from the top of
the tower and angled it gently down towards one of the platforms, just
by the overpass.  [But it's good enough to start with.]

   Still, nothing.  Her heels clicked gently on the pavement, and Mary
spun around, searching.  [He has to be here...]

   She looked up in time to see a figure on top of the overpass, black
on black and only visible as an outline against the slowly fading sky.
Then he jumped, and she didn't stick around to see where he'd gone --
Mary jumped too, landing on the platform twenty feet away as he alighted
gently.

   Now his features were visible, outlined in the harsh blue-white of
the station's arc-lighting.  A good foot and a half taller than Mary, he
was thin but somehow muscular.  His hair was long and white, falling
perfectly straight past his shoulder to the small of his back and
contrasting vividly with the perfect blackness of his cloak.  His face
was perfect, angular, and cruel, and his movement carried with it a
sense of grace.  On one hip he wore a sword, a blade nearly as long as
he was tall and curved into a vicious half-moon, so thin it looked as
though it couldn't possibly stand up to any kind of impact.  He landed
in a crouch and slowly got to his feet, smiling, and his eyes glowed
from the inside.

   Mary couldn't help staring for a moment.  His smile widened.

   "Prepare yourself."  She'd expected his voice to be a hiss, or a deep
James Earl Jones rumble, but it came out in pleasant tones that would
have done credit to a pop singer.  The demon drew his sword with a long,
silken hiss, bringing the unwieldy blade up with impossible ease.

   They locked eyes for a moment, and Mary tried to take a confident
stance.  "Right back at you."

   The demon bought his sword around in a lazy sweep at waist height,
which Mary avoided with a standing jump.  That was very nearly the end
of her -- he twisted the blade, changing direction in mid-stroke as
though his weapon had no momentum at all.  Mary blew the air in front of
her outwards in a miniature thunderclap that sent her flying backwards;
she turned it into a flip and landed on her feet.

   "Not bad." She concentrated, pulling moisture from the air, and the
ice sword slowly formed in her hand.  The demon nodded politely.

   [Come on, Sumiko.]  Mary took a cautious step forward as the demon
dropped into guard position, waiting for her to attack.  [Wait till he's
distracted...]

   She leapt forward, and his blade blurred, almost too fast to follow.
Cold sparks flashed as steel met ice with a hellish screech, and Mary
forced the demon onto the defensive with a quick flurry of blows.  His
parries were too quick, though, and she was unable to slip anything
through.  Finally she slipped, and he got a breathing space wide enough
to bring his huge sword around in an unstoppable arc, forcing her to
once again roll backwards.

   [Now!]

   Sumiko jumped as though she'd read Mary's mind, plummeting from the
top of the overpass towards the demon's head.  He didn't move, didn't
even turn his head, just extended a hand upwards and closed it rapidly
into a fist.  Fire pulsed outward in a nearly solid shell, sliding
across the concrete as though it was drenched in gasoline, and the
impact picked Sumiko out of the air and tossed her onto the tracks.
Mary leapt backwards again, to avoid the fire, and landed in a crouch.

   The demon stood untouched against the roaring inferno he'd unleashed,
long white hair billowing in the updraft as his black cape snapped in
the sudden wind.  Mary could almost hear the gothic, choral soundtrack
-- his eyes glowed with living white fire.

 

   "They're not doing so badly."  Rin put down her binoculars and looked
over at Deus.  "Are you sure you want to do this?"

   "Want does not enter the equation, Agent Rin.  Mary must lose to a
demon, if not this one then the next.  And the longer we wait, the more
civilians and property will be in danger.  We must act now."  He picked
up the binoculars, glanced through them briefly, and frowned.  "Besides,
I think we are seeing only a fraction of this demon's true power."

   "Really?"  This revelation made Rin shiver a little.  The demon was
quite powerful enough, as far as she was concerned.  "Is it really wise
to attack, then?  Even if we're on its side..."

   "It is a risk, to be sure."  Deus shrugged.  "But one we must take."

   [I guess that's it.]  Rin opened the car door and stepped out onto
the road, gingerly.  Deus slammed the other door and stepped up next to
her.  

   "What's the plan?"

   "You launch a frontal attack against Mary.  While she's distracted, I
will destroy her."

   "Great."  Rin flexed her hands and cracked her knuckles.  For all
that it felt like she was fighting for the wrong side, it was nice to
finally *do* something after so many days of watching and waiting.  She
reached into the center of her being and pulled, shaping the energy into
a primal force.  A vaguely humanoid shape slowly appeared beside her,
visible only as a kind of walking distortion of the air surrounded by a
permanent cyclone.  Electricity crackled as it moved.  "Can you get down
there okay?"


   She looked around.  "Deus?"

   The other agent was gone.  Rin shrugged.  [I imagine he can take care
of himself.]  She reached out to her construct, and both of them lifted
off the ground and floated gently towards the fray.

 

   Sumiko had gotten to her feet, Mary was glad to see, and a dark
shadow she suspected was Kei was creeping into position along the top of
the overpass.  The bad news was that nothing she could do seemed to have
any effect on the demon.  He brushed her spears of hardened air aside
like so many toothpicks, answering with wave after wave of dark flames
or charging forward to try and skewer her with his sword.  [In hand to
hand I can almost match him for speed, but he's stronger, and he's got
reach on me.  So what's left?  We have to double team him.  But if Sumi
gets too close to this guy she's going to get killed.]

   The demon turned as Sumiko clambered onto the platform, leaving its
back invitingly open.  [It's a trick.]  The problem was, she couldn't
think of anything better to do.  Mary charged, shouting.

   "Try to get his sword-arm!"

   As she'd predicted, the demon continued his turn and brought his
blade around in an upward sweep that would have halved her if she'd
tried to jump it.  Instead Mary ducked to one side, bringing her own
sword past the demon's head.  He ducked as Sumiko came barreling in from
behind, landing a good blow on the thing's side and going for a hold on
his arm.  Before he could shake her off through raw strength Mary
pressed him again -- he put up his off-hand and lashed out at her with
fire, but in the interval Sumiko twisted his arm nearly to the breaking
point.  The demon dropped his sword, which clattered to the ground with
a sound more like glass than metal, and squirmed out of Sumiko's grasp.

   "Look out!"

   The voice was Kei's, from above.  Mary didn't think, just jumped, and
saw Sumiko do the same.  A figure made of air and lightning descended
slowly from the sky, bolts of crackling power lashing out from his hands
across the platform where they'd all been standing.  They scored black
marks onto the concrete, scorched the air to ozone, and arced over the
surprised demon.  When the lighting cut off, Mary's eyes were ringing
with purple-white afterimages.

   The demon shook itself, like a dog trying to dry off, and his smile
slowly returned.  Mary landed on top of the overpass, next to Kei, and
spotted Sumiko back on the tracks again -- another figure, all in black,
had landed beside the shimmering elemental next to the demon.  Before
Mary could strike back, the elemental turned its attention to her and
blasted another twisted skein of lightning towards her.

   She jumped again, and landed back on the platform.  The demon had
recovered, and had clearly had enough -- Mary could feel the power
crystallizing out of the air around him as he started to hover, a
crackling vermillion aura snapping into existence and lashing out at
everything around it.

   "--" Mary began, before the demon's voice drowned her out.  It boomed
across the railyard, rattling windows on the streets above and raising
spray on the water.

   "SIN HARVEST!"

   A coruscating sphere of white light rippled outward from the demon,
as fast as thought.  Mary had time to throw up one hand before it
engulfed her, along with Sumiko, Kei, the elemental, and the figure in
black.  There was a moment of brilliance.

 

   "Hey, Mary."

   Mary-of-four-years-ago looked much the same as today's version.  A
little bit shorter, perhaps, and her hair was its natural light brown
instead of its current white.  She had a green backpack, so decrepit
that it was held together only by seams and string, slung over one
shoulder.  As she turned left out of the school entrance, leaving the
flow of people heading for the bus station, Richard fell into step
beside her.

   Richard was a year younger, and was in the unfortunate situation of
having reached his full height without the, for lack of a better word,
width to back it up.  He was gangly, a bit clumsy, wore thin wireframe
glasses and had a bad habit of pausing when he talked.  Mary put up with
him because he displayed more intelligence then the average vegetable,
which put him above most of her peers.

   "Hey, Rich.  What's up?"

   "Not much.  Happy that it's Friday.  Um.  You?"

   "Of course."

   "Um.  Anything good this weekend?"

   If Mary had been paying more attention, she would have noticed the
gleam in his eyes as he spoke.  As it was, she answered truthfully.
"Not really.  I've got some little things to do."

   "Yeah.  Um.  Listen--"

   But Mary was already waving ahead.  "Robyn!"

   "Yo."  Robyn waved back and waited for the pair to catch up.  "Done
for the day?"

   "Yeah."  Mary glared at her friend. "I can't believe you get out
early."

   "Now, now.  It's to give me time for my independent study."

   "Which is?"

   "Soulcaliber, at the moment."  Robyn smiled impishly.  "You guys
hungry?"

   "Sure."

   Richard nodded, and Robyn gestured down the street.  "Pizza?"

   A few minutes later, they were sitting around the plastic tables of
Double's Pizza, trying to have a conversation over the background buzz
of the arcade and the Jerry Springer show, playing on the store TV
overhead.

   "So what's up in middle-school land?"

   Mary snickered at Robyn's grimace.  Her friend's continued presence
in junior high was something of a joke, since she'd long ago finished or
placed out of all the courses and was now spent more time at the high
school than at the building she technically inhabited.  There were still
a couple of periods a day, though, where Robyn had to sprint back across
the soccer field to attend homeroom or something similarly idiotic.

   "God."  Robyn rolled her eyes.  "Don't even ask.  I'm so sick of
this."

   "Cheer up.  Um.  Only three more months."

   "Great."  Robyn's head sank to the table.  "I'm going to lock myself
in a closet and not come out till its over."

   Mary rubbed the top of her friend's head.  "Aww.  At least afterwards
we get a nice long vacation for the summer."

   "I suppose."  Robyn's head shot back up.  "You guys are up for the
conventions again this year, right?"

   "Sure."

   "Um.  Of course."

   Robyn continued, rapid-fire, her earlier mood forgotten.  "Great.
'Cause, I was talking to my mom last night, and I think I convinced her
to let me go by myself this year.  She said she'd rent us a hotel room
and bus tickets and everything, as long as you went with me."  

   Mary held up her hands.  "Wait a minute.  When did *I* become the
responsible one?"

   "Come *on*, Mary.  How much more fun is the con going to be without
Mom following us around and rolling her eyes?"

   Mary chuckled.  "A lot."

   "And now I can point out cute guys without getting a lecture."  Robyn
was practically bouncing. "You think we should get costumes?  I think we
should get costumes."

   "Ladies?"  The man behind the counter, who by universal pizza-shop
law was required to be a heavily-built Italian, shouted in their general
direction.  "Your pies are ready."

   "I'll get it!"  Robyn popped out of her seat before anyone could stop
her and dashed to the front of the shop.  Mary leaned back in the booth,
shaking her head.

   "You really think this is a good idea, Rich?"

   "Sure.  Um.  The convention, you mean?  It'll be lots of fun."

   "I guess."

   One of the arcade machines played a fanfare, and overhead the crowd
chanted "Jerry, Jerry!" as someone crushed someone else with a chair.
Richard leaned a little bit closer and whispered as best he could over
the racket.

   "Um.  Mary.  Can I ask you something?"

   "Sure."  She caught his expression.  "What's up?"

   Robyn chose that inopportune moment to return.  "Here we go!  What do
you guys want to drink?"

   "Later," mouthed Richard, as he slid out of the booth to hit the
vending machines.  Mary raised one eyebrow but didn't comment.

   

   Richard had been getting more and more nervous as they approached
Robyn's house, though Mary was pretty sure she was the only one who had
noticed.  Robyn, certainly, was oblivious, chattering excitedly about
her convention plans.  The pair dropped her off and walked in silence
back towards the school, near which they both lived.

   "So."  Mary had to broach the subject.  Richard was fidgeting so much
she was afraid he was going to injure himself.  "You wanted to talk to
me about something?"

   [Please], thought Mary.  [Please don't let this be what I think it
is.]

   "I.  Um.  Found something.  Yesterday.  I wanted to show it to you."

   "Found something?"  Palpable relief steamed off of her.  "What?"

   "I can't tell you.  I'd, um, have to show you.  But..."

   "But?"

   "Mary..." Richard took a deep breath, as though he were about to spit
something out, then reconsidered.  "I mean.  Um.  You know, we've been
friends for a long time..."

   [Oh god.]  Mary wanted to close her eyes.

   "...and, you know...I think you're, um...cute..."  His blush
deepened, and he looked at his shoes like a puppy expecting to get
smacked.

   "Richard--"

   "Wait."  He held up a hand.  "Just.  Um. Wait a minute.  I want to
show you this thing I found, but I have to ask you first."  There was a
long pause, as though the words had to build up steam, and then they
came out all in a rush.  "Wouldyouwantogooutwithmesometime?  I mean, um,
if it was okay with you, and...you know..."

   [Now what the hell do I say?]  It wasn't like she hadn't been asked
the question before.  But most of the time the people asking were the
popular guys, whom Mary generally despised and thus had no problem
shooting down.

   "Richard..."

   He was watching her eyes, tense as a crouching cat.  As soon as she
spoke, he exhaled.

   "I get it."

   "It's nothing about you, particularly..."  Mary was aware of how lame
that sounded.  "It's just...I don't know.  I can't do that sort of thing
right now."

   "I.  Um.  Understand.  I just wanted to...try doing this the right
way.  Um.  You know."

   Mary nodded, slowly.

   "Um.  I guess I'll see you around."

   "Right.  On Monday, at least."

   "Yeah."

   She turned on a heel and walked away, desperately trying not to look
at him.

   "Um.  Goodbye." 

 

   Sumiko-of-six-years-ago, on the other hand, still looked like a
little girl.  She had long little-girl hair, a little-girl body, and
little-girl clothes; a sailor uniform was hung neatly behind the door of
her tiny room.  There wasn't room for much else besides a little desk
and a chair that had to be pushed to one side to make room for the
sleeping mat, but there was a window.  Sumiko hadn't had a window in her
room until her big sister had moved out, and now the never-quite-blocked
light of the sleepless city bothered her at night.  She tossed and
turned, eventually pushing the covers away entirely.

   "Sumiko.  Listen to me."

   Her face contorted desperately as she dropped into the dream, falling
away from a pair of burning eyes, one white, one black.  A face took
shape, slowly -- an old woman, hair blowing in an intangible wind, her
body wreathed in fire.  The little girl cringed.

   "Sumiko!"

   "I'm sorry!" she squeaked.  "Whatever I did, I'm sorry!  Please don't
hurt me!"

   The old woman did not smile.  "I am not going to hurt you, Ishiyama
Sumiko."

   "No?"  She dared to look up, just a little bit.  

   "No."

   "Who are you?"

   "I am the Queen of Forever, the Master of the Guardians of Eternity.
I am She Who Waits at the End of Time."

   "Oh.  I'm Ishiyama Sumiko."

   "I know."

   "Is this a dream?"

   "Yes," said the Queen, "and no.  I have made myself known to you for
a reason, Sumiko."

   "How come?"  Sumiko had come out of her crouch now, and stared at the
Queen curiously.

   "You are in grave danger."

   "I am?"  Her face screwed up in thought.  "Is it Nori-chan?  He's
always trying to steal my lunch..."

   "I am not referring to danger of that kind," the Queen said, testily.
"Your life is in danger."

   "My life?"  Sumiko blinked.  "How?"

   "I can tell you.  But in return, you must do something for me."

   "What do you mean?"

   "The End of Days is coming, Sumiko.  My freedom is close at hand, and
I will be the salvation of Mankind."

   "That doesn't sound very fun--"

   "Be quiet and listen.  I need allies, to fight against the forces of
Darkness in the name of Eternity.  The way will be hard, but the rewards
will be everything you hold dear."

   "You want me to fight?"

   "Yes."  The Queen leaned closer.  "Will you take up the burden,
little one?"

   Sumiko considered for a long moment.

   "I don't believe you."

   "You don't--"

   "This is just a dream."  She crossed her arms.  "I've been reading
too much magical girl manga, and it's affected my dreams.  So"--she
stuck out her tongue--"hah."

   "You're in danger, Sumiko.  You and everyone around you."

   "Dream monster."

   "Listen to me--"

   But she was already diving away from the face, laughing high-pitched
and care-free.  The Queen descended, grumbling, into darkness, and the
rest of her dreams that night were far more normal.

   

   Sumiko groaned, sleepily.  "Mama..."

   "Good morning, Sumi-chan.  How do you feel?"

   "Good!"  She jumped out of bed and started to help fold the sheets
and mat for storage.  "I had a funny dream, though."

   "Was it scary?"  Sumiko's mother smiled gently.  Ishiyama Namiko was
a kindly, soft-spoken woman, with dark hair almost to her waist tied in
a complicated braid.  She folded the sheets with a deft hand, working
around her daughter's less-than-competent assistance.  

   "Not really."  Sumiko put one finger to her mouth as she thought
back.  "Maybe a little."

   "Good!"  They finished the task, sliding the whole stack into the
closet, and Namiko got to her feet.  "Remember that we're going into
Shibuya today to meet with Emi-chan after lunch."

   "Yay!  Emi-oneechan!"  Sumiko paused, deep in thought.  "There's
nothing dangerous in Shibuya, is there?"

   Namiko rubbed her daughter's head fondly.  "Of course not,
Sumi-chan."

 

   Rin-of-five-years-ago was much the same, aside from dark hair long
enough to twirl around her finger as she read.  She was wearing shorts
and an overlarge T-shirt with a picture of a humorous cow on the back,
and reading at a desk that represented a kind of island of clear space
adrift in a dark, shifting sea of piled clothes and discarded wrappers.
On her right was a pile of Jolly Ranchers, individually wrapped, and on
her left a pile of foil coverings; periodically she would remove her
chin from her hands, select one from the former, and add to the latter.
This was all unconscious -- her attention was miles away.

   'Where are the Category Sevens?'

   'A question that has always puzzled researchers,' read Rin, 'is the
fact that in the fifty years of its existence, the BSC has never
encountered a supernatural with enough power to place it clearly above
Category Six.  Through the years, some have suggested candidates --
Final Doom of Minnesota is the most popular, along with the Black Knight
and the inhabitants of Terminal Dogma.  Close analysis, however, shows
that none of these individuals possess a power that clearly sets them
apart from a high-end Category Six.  A number of solutions have been
proposed.

   'First, the suggestion that individuals of this power may simply not
exist.  Logic suggests that there be an upper limit to the power of a
humaniform supernatural, and it is possible that we may have reached it.
Historical evidence, though, suggests otherwise.  The research of Baker
and Pike provides nearly irrefutable evidence of at least three Category
Seven individuals in recorded history (see Appendix N) and it is
suspected that more have existed.

   'Second, Category Sevens may simply be so rare we should not expect
to encounter one in an average human lifespan.  This is the most likely
of the possibilities.  In general, each Category increase also
represents a decrease in occurrence-per-generation by a factor of ten,
but this is an observed fact rather than a hard correlation.  Still, if
we follow this rough guideline, it suggests that at least one Category
Seven individual should be at large in the world today.

   'Third, and most intriguingly, there may be some power that prevents
us from finding them.  Theories on this side vary wildly.  Some suggest
that Category Sevens may simply transcend our world to enter another.
More prosaically, their power may be such that they are simply
undetectable; a Category Seven with mind-control powers, for example,
could erase the memory of his existence from everyone he met and thus
achieve a kind of retroactive invisibility.

   'Whatever the reason, one thing remains clear.  If a true Category
Seven is ever discovered, what follows will be the defining events of
our century, and possibly the history of the world.'

   Rin sighed, and rubbed her eyes.  The little circle of light provided
by the desk lamp rocked slightly as she pushed away from the desk and
stretched her arms behind her head.

   The calm darkness was obliterated by the door opening; Kim, Rin's
roommate and best friend at the academy, was outlined in the hallway's
buzzing fluorescents.  Kim was a half-a-head taller than Rin, with a
bouncy ponytail and a happy-go-lucky manner her friend sometimes envied
and sometimes despised.  Tonight, Rin decided, was one of the latter
times.  Kim had somehow doffed her regulation gray jumpsuit for a rather
fetching low-cut black dress.

   "Kim!"  Rin pulled her roommate into the room by one arm and slammed
the door hurriedly.  "Jesus!"

   "What are you so worked up about?"

   "You can't just walk around looking like that!  If one of the agents
saw you--"

   "You know the agents are locked up tight in their barracks."

   "And *you* know they run spot checks!  This is your life you're
playing with."

   "One in three."  That was the figure -- one in three supernaturals
who underwent the Bureau's power sealing survived more than a year.
"And anyway, they wouldn't kick me out just for wearing a dress.  You
worry too much."

   "Finals are *tomorrow*, Kim."

   "I know."  She smiled brightly.  "I've crammed all that I can cram --
now I need to relax, or I'm going to be so uptight I won't be able to
concentrate."

   Rin turned back to her desk.  "Well, excuse me for worrying about the
most stressful thing in my life to date."

   "What's the worst that happens -- you have to spend another year
here?"

   They looked at each other, and shuddered simultaneously.  Kim flopped
down on the bed, and Rin leaned back in her chair and let her head loll
over the rest.  Their gazes met; Rin broke first.

   "So?  What happened?"

   "What happened with what?"

   "You know what."

   "I don't know what you're talking about."  Kim's face was all injured
innocence.  

   "The cute third-year, the one who can summon dragons.  Don't tell me
you weren't going to meet him."

   Her roommate smiled.  "I can't get anything past you, can I?"

   "He's all you've been talking about for a week.  So what happened?"

   Kim's smile just widened.  Rin rolled her eyes.  "Kim..."

   "Relax.  We're going to see what happens after finals."

   "That's sensible, at least."

   "I don't see what you're so worried about, though.  You've done
nothing but study this stuff for six years -- do you really think some
exam is going to stop you?"

   "I know, I know."  Rin shook her head.  "I'm just naturally stressed
out, I guess."

   "You want me to fix your shoulders?"

   "Would you?  It's been a long night."

   Kim picked her way across the room, and Rin sat forward in her chair.
Her friend's fingertips rested lightly on the skin of her shoulders, and
Rin could feel the sudden tug of gathering magic.  She tensed,
involuntarily, then gasped as Kim dumped a packet of vibrational energy
into her muscles.  Her whole back quivered, and she let out a low moan.
When the energy finally faded, her shoulders were tender and achy but
felt *good*.  Rin let out a long breath.

   "Damn.  You've been practicing with that."

   "It took me a long time to get up the nerve to do it at all,
considering that I use it to shred metal in practice."

   "You're lucky.  My power doesn't have much...ahem...non-combat
application."

   "I don't know."  Kim threw her an inquiring look.  "Have you ever
tried..."

   "You'd get scorched."

   "You think?"

   "Trust me."

 

   Kei floated alone in a field of endless white.  Floated was perhaps
the wrong word -- she saw only white, no matter how she moved.  She
couldn't close her eyes, couldn't see her hands or body, couldn't hear
or feel anything whatsoever.  It was like being buried alive in a
mountain of soft cotton.  Nothing remained but the tiny silver worm of
her thoughts.

   [Where am I?]  She'd felt the explosion of the demon's power, unlike
anything she'd ever encountered.  It reached deep inside and plucked
hidden strings, strings of memory and recollection.  [Why?  What's
happening?]

   A pair of eyes appeared in the white, one as black as space, the
other barely visible by its outline.

   "The demon is only peripherally of the real world," they said.  "It
operates on memory and terror."

   "What's happening?"  Kei thrashed desperately, trying to turn her
head, but the eyes didn't stir.

   "It shows the past."

   "But..."  She tried to focus on the white, looking for something
besides the eyes.  Looking for anything.

   [No.  I won't believe it.]

   The eyes faded away, leaving her alone.  Kei screamed, soundlessly.

   

   The demon stood in the center of a field of fire and light, his long
silver hair flying in the updraft.  He raised one hand, palm upwards,
and the flames leaped to follow.

   "You're finished."

   He smiled, and closed his fist.  All around him, the light started to
flicker.

 

   Sumiko was the first one off the subway, glad to escape the
suffocating press.  Her mother followed at a more leisurely pace; Sumiko
dashed ahead into the waiting arms of her older sister, who'd been
waiting for the train.

   "Emi-oneechan!"

   Emi was a short, mousey woman almost ten years older then her younger
sister.  Her hair was bound up in a braid, and her glasses hung around
her neck on a chain.  At her side was Hiroshi, her fianc�e, a powerfully
built young man who was quite cheerful despite a perpetually bored
expression.

   "Sumi-chan!"  Emi hugged her sister, then straightened up.  "Hi,
Mom."

   Hiroshi bowed, first to Namiko and, exaggeratedly, to Sumiko.  Sumiko
giggled.  "Hiya."

   "Hey."  He patted her head, which Sumiko bore with good grace.  "Your
mom tell you where we're going today?"

   "Yeah!  We're going to the department store to get some new shirts
for me, and then we're going to pick up our TV from the repair place,
and then we're going to lunch!"

   Namiko smiled.  "Where do you want to go to lunch, Sumi-chan?"

   "McDonalds!"  She jumped up and down.  "Can we, mom?  Please?"

   "We'll see," said her mother benevolently.  "The department store
first, though."

   "Okay!"

   The four walked down the street, threading their way through the
omnipresent crowd.  Emi was talking animatedly to Namiko, about her new
apartment or some such, but Sumiko paid her very little mind.  Her
attention was instead captured by the displays in the shop windows,
giant posters advertising some new game, movie, or product.  They had
all kinds of great pictures on them -- the huge display in one shop for
the latest Biohazard featured its excitingly-proportioned protagonist
surrounded by a drooling horde of zombies.  Sumiko skipped that window
and went on to the next, where a poster of a giant wolf, its back topped
by a nest of writhing tendrils, proclaimed some new anime or other.  

   She jumped as the picture moved, just a little.  The tentacles were
shifting, slowly, and Sumiko realized it must be some kind of high-tech
poster.  She tried moving her head back and forth, and the eyes of the
wolf followed her -- this was so exciting she ran back to her family and
tugged them on ahead.

   "Look!  Come on, look at this!"

   "What is it, Sumi-chan?"  Namiko consented to be dragged along by one
hand, and Emi followed, laughing.  Hiroshi strolled after, his hands in
his pockets.

   "Look at this thing!  It moves!"

   The wolf was larger now, filling nearly the whole paper.  Sumiko
stared at it, delighted, as the image shimmered and bulged.

   Hiroshi raised an eyebrow.  "Wow.  They've really gotten better at
that."

   "Really!"  Namiko shook her head.  "It almost looks real."

   Emi shivered theatrically.  "Scary."

   "Yeah."

   "Sumi-chan..."

   The glass in the shop window shattered into a storm of flying shards.
Sumiko took a step backwards, eyes closed by instinct, and felt
something sting her right cheek.  Her mother screamed.

   "Help!"  This was Hiroshi.  "Someone call the police!"

   "Sumi-chan, you're bleeding!"

   Sumiko put fingers to her cheek, and they came away red.  She felt
tears building in her eyes; her mother had one hand pressed against a
cut in her sleeve, but looked calm.

   "Don't worry, don't worry.  It's not a bad cut.  You'll be okay."

   Sumiko's eyes widened as the tentacled wolf stepped off the paper and
through the hole where the glass had been.  It took her a moment to get
together enough breath to scream.

   "Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

   The thing was huge, ten feet at the shoulder and more with the
tentacles.  It slowly emerged onto the street, its hindquarters
shimmering and solidifying as soon as there was room for them, and it
swung its gaze over the frozen onlookers.  Then someone else screamed,
deep in the crowd, and everyone was running at once.

   Sumiko fell to her knees, her legs locked together and immobile.  Her
mother was shrieking, and Hiroshi was dragging a stunned Emi away from
the monster as fast as he could.  The giant wolf turned towards her and
narrowed its eyes.

   "Sumi-chan!  Run!"

   Namiko's desperate scream attracted the thing's attention.  Sumiko
still couldn't move; her legs simply didn't respond to the commands she
was sending them.  She watched as the wolf took a step forward.  In the
background, Emi was screaming and pointing at her, and Hiroshi squared
his shoulders and edged slowly back in.  Distant police sirens screamed.

   [You're in danger, Sumiko.  You and everyone around you.]

   "No."  She whispered it, very quietly.  "Please.  No.  Don't do
this."

   [I had nothing to do with it.]  The Queen's voice was cold.  [I see
the future, but cannot shape it.  Only you can do that.]

   "No..."

   Time returned in a rush.  The wolf pounced, and Namiko's scream cut
off with a sudden crunch.  Sumiko wanted to hide her eyes, but her body
still wouldn't respond.  The monster shook its head, spraying blood
everywhere, and she could do nothing but watch.

   "Sumi!  Come to me!"  Hiroshi beckoned from a few steps away, while
Emi hovered in the background.

   "Run..."  Her voice was too low to hear.  "Just...go..."

   The monster turned again, and whether he heard her or not he took her
advice.  The wolf followed, running him down in two quick steps and
pinning him to the ground with one paw.  As it lowered its head to bite,
Emi rushed it, screaming; two razor-edged tentacles shot out and
transfixed her to the pavement.

   Finally, mercifully, Sumiko sank to the ground and closed her eyes.
She could still hear, though -- the screams of the victims, the shouting
of the police as they finally arrived, the rapid crack of gunfire and
the shrieking of the monster's death throes.  And, over it all, the
mocking laughter of the Queen.

 

    The black sedan rolled to a stop outside the townhouse, and a pair
of agents in black suits emerged.

   Local law enforcement had already surrounded the place.  Kim pulled
her sunglasses off and tucked them into one pocket, while Rin kept hers
on.  Sunglasses were part of the image.

   "Good afternoon, Lieutenant."  Rin flashed her badge.  Her wallet was
brand new, and still had the crackle in it, and the steel shield
practically sparkled.  "BSC.  What's the situation?"

   The lieutenant had obviously been told to expect them, and barely
batted an eye.  "We've got him trapped, Ma'am.  The only way out of that
place is the front windows, the door, or the fire escape at the back.
We're out here"-- he waved at the collection of cops blocking the
street--"and I've got snipers covering the rear entrance.  Our
information indicates he's alone in there, so he shouldn't have
hostages.  We can go in at any time."

   "Have you sent anyone inside yet?"

   "No, Ma'am."  He dipped his head.  "We were instructed to wait for
BSC personnel to proceed."

   "Excellent.  You've done good work here, Lieutenant."

   "Thank you, Ma'am.  Shall I order a breech?"

   "No."  Rin's eyes flickered to her partner, and she smiled.  "I think
we'll handle it from here.  Keep your men on alert -- if he runs, I want
you to shoot him down."

   The young man saluted.  "Yes, Ma'am."  He turned to his officers.
"Clear the way!"

   Kim fell into step as Rin walked up the steps.

   "Man, that feels good."  Rin kept her voice quiet.  "I love this
job."

   "Me too."

   "So what do we know about this guy?"

   "Cat Five.  Not sure what his power is, but it reads as biokinetic.
He went serial about a week ago -- it's taken this long for the cops to
corner him."

   "You sure he's in there?"

   "They were tailing him, and I can't see how he could have gotten out.
Stay alert."

   "Right."

   They'd reached the door by this point.  Rin tried it and was
unsurprised to find it locked; she stepped aside.  Kim put her hand on
the knob, her eyes going distant for a second as she felt around inside
the metal, and then the whole door shook for a fraction of a second as
she blasted the lock with enough vibrational energy to reduce it to
dust.  The door swung inward, slowly, revealing a dank hallway ablaze
with tiny specks of light, descending in a column from a second floor
window.  A pair of doors led off at one end, and a staircase, each step
garnished with little piles of paint chips, led to the second floor.

   Rin entered, carefully.  The place was silent except for the gentle
creak of the floorboards under her feet, but her senses stood up and
screamed.  There was a feeling of tension, something ready to pounce.
She closed her eyes and concentrated, and a man-sized figure flickered
into being, assembling itself from pure fire.

   "I'll lead."

   Kim nodded assent and dropped back.  Rin let the elemental go first;
she could feel the heat crackling off it as it stood at her side in the
doorway.  She had to open the doors herself, though, since the firey
puppet's grip was insubstantial at best.  Rin tensed, but the first
doorway revealed nothing more than a dilapidated kitchen, sink piled
high with dishes and buzzing with flies.  It wasn't big enough to
conceal anyone; she slammed the door with a sigh and opened the other.

   There was a long pause.

   "Holy...shit."  Kim sounded as though she didn't know whether to
curse or throw up.  Rin was inclined to agree.   There was nothing in
the second room but a bed, on which were arranged four limp bodies.
They were all grade school girls, sitting side by side with their backs
to the wall and blankly staring outwards.  One pair had their heads
tilted towards one another, lips touching, while the other two had had
their hands entwined.  Other than their pallor and unnatural stillness,
Rin wouldn't have known they were dead -- there were no marks on them.

   "Christ."  Rin gestured the elemental into the room and followed
gingerly; Kim stayed in the doorway, unwilling or unable to approach any
closer.  The place smelled of lemon air freshener and decay.  "When you
said he went serial, you weren't kidding."


   "Shit."  Kim's eyes were still wide.

   "Kim, come on.  They're just dead people."  She pushed one of the
girls, a little harder than she'd meant to, and the small body slumped
across the knees of her neighbor.  "We've got to find this guy -- stay
focused."

   "Right."  Her partner took deep breaths.  "Focused."

   "Aww."  The voice came from behind Kim, who spun so quickly she
nearly lost her balance.  "You messed it up.  Do you know how long it
took me to get them to sit still like that?"

   The man -- Rin realized she didn't know his name -- was leaning on
the doorframe.  He was tall and spare, with limp black hair and a face
like a skull, hollow-cheeked and bony.  His eyes were alive, though,
more so than his victims -- they sparkled intelligently as he stretched
his mouth into a smile.

   "Fuck."  Rin pointed at him.  "Kim, stand back.  You, against the
wall."

   "I was wondering what happened to people like me."  The man giggled.
"I can't be the only one, but you never hear about us in the papers.
Are you here to hush me up?"

   Kim, by this point, had recovered her nerve.  "We're here to lock you
up, psycho."

   "Psycho!"  He spread his hands.  "Ooh.  Scary.  Should I get a big
knife, maybe, or one of those stupid masks?  Would that help?"

   "Shut up and get against the wall."

   He considered that for a moment, and shook his head.  "No.  No, on
the whole, I think not."

   Kim reached out her hand, and the man ducked just in time.  A
semi-circular section of wall and door-frame shuddered and splashed into
fine powder.  Rin cursed and gestured the elemental forward, and
everything seemed to happen at once.  Kim turned to try and line up
another shot, and the man twisted, pressed the flat of his palm to her
chest, and pushed her backwards.  The elemental raised an arm and caught
him in the chest with a gout of fire, tossing him back through the
now-destroyed doorway and into the kitchen.  Kim staggered back until
she hit the bed and fell on top of the corpses.

   Rin blinked.

   A groan came from across the hall, where the man was desperately
trying to get to his feet.  Rin gestured the elemental after him and
hurried to her partner's side.  Kim had fallen between the two kissing
girls, pushing one aside and the other onto the floor.  She let out a
long breath as Rin knelt next to her.

   "Kim?  You okay?"

   Kim's leg kicked, once, and then she was still.  Rin stared,
unbelieving.

   "Kim?"

   "She's gone."  The man had staggered to his feet.  "They're all gone.
Everyone I touch."  He giggled.  "I am the Angel of Death, after all.
An Angel..."

   Rin screamed, long and loud, and the elemental blazed in response.
For a moment the man's skeleton was visible, outlined in the rapidly
expanding haze that had been his flesh, and then even that was dust.

 

   At sixteen, Mary's attitude was a little different.

   She'd only been doing the magical-girl thing for one year, for
starters.  It had started as a series of really bad headaches that ended
when she finally ran into an honest-to-god demon, which had been rather
traumatic.  Despite the fact that the demon had ended up scattered
around the landscape in bits, Mary had understandably been scared out of
her mind.  Since then she'd taken up what she saw as an unpleasant duty
with more than a little reluctance, though she had a growing
appreciation for her own powers.

   The upshot of all this, however, was that Mary-of-four-years ago
still got scared when she heard the tinkle of glass that announced an
intruder in her house, viewing such a thing as a threat rather then an
opportunity for creative mayhem.

   The tinkle was loud enough to wake her from a sound sleep, and it was
followed by heavy clomp of booted feet on the carpet.  Mary clutched the
blanket a little closer and wondered if the proper action was to sit
tight or go and investigate.  There was no one else in the house -- Lia
was at a sleepover, and her father was away on a business trip.

   [Idiot.  The proper action is to call the police.]  Unfortunately,
the phone was on the hook downstairs.  Mary kicked the covers back and
hit the floor in a crouch.  She reached for her science textbook, which
was solid enough to make a passable weapon, then thought better of it
and summoned a blade of razorsharp ice from the air.  It was cool in her
hand, gritty, and she gripped it tightly as she opened the door to her
room and peeked out into the hall.

   [Nothing.]  The haphazard carpeting was undisturbed.  [He must still
be downstairs.]  She moved out as silently as possible, avoiding by
ingrained instinct the boards that creaked and sticking to the solid
areas near the walls.  Mary made it to the stairs without making too
much noise, and peered down into the dark and empty living room.  The
green light on the phone glowed invitingly, a wan beacon in the night.
Step by uncertain step, Mary edged down, trying to keep the whole room
in view.  

   [Maybe it was just my imagination.]  A quick glance around gave that
the lie -- one of the windowpanes lay in pieces on the floor.  [Maybe
someone threw a rock in from outside, or something.]  She stood at the
bottom of the stairs, scanning the shadows and trying to work up the
courage to make a dash for it.  The ice blade shifted in her hands.

   [Okay.  One.  Two.  Three.]  Mary pushed off from the foot of the
stairs and sprinted across the living room, her footsteps echoing
painfully in the stillness.  She almost made it -- someone crouched
behind the sofa stuck out a leg at the last moment, sending her crashing
into the end table and sending the phone ricocheting against the wall.
The sword skittered out of her grasp and slid across the floor, melting
rapidly.  Mary took a deep breath and tried not to scream.  Instead, she
flipped onto her back and slashed at the space the intruder had occupied
with a dozen razor-currents.  [It's going to be impossible to get the
blood out of everything...I am so screwed...]

   Richard smiled, in the darkness, and the wave of solid death washed
over him as though it were empty air.

   For a long moment, Mary lay on her back blinking foolishly.  Richard
was on his knees behind the sofa, and he shuffled forward until he was
about even with her feet.  He looked normal enough, except for an odd
glint in his eye, but he was wearing a sword.  It was curved,
Japanese-style, and sheathed in black leather on his hip.

   "Richard?"  Mary was incredulous.  "What the hell are you doing
here?"  [And why aren't you dead?]

   "Yup."  He shuffled forward another inch or so.  "Um.  It's me.  I
wanted to show you the thing I found."

   "You...you what?"

   "The thing.  Um.  That I found."  His hand reached out, reflexively,
and touched the hilt of the sword.  Just a brush.  "I had a feeling you
might appreciate it."

   She raised an eyebrow, terror draining away.  Odd sword or no, it was
just Richard.  "Me?  Why?"

   "You've done a good job of fooling everyone, Mary.  Um.  But I could
tell.  There's something weird about you."

   "I can't exactly deny it at this point."

   "I went looking for it."  Richard smiled wistfully.  "Um.  You know.
I just wanted to know more about you.  And I found this."  He touched
the hilt again.  "I think I was meant to find it."

   "Meant?"

   He pulled his hand away.  "You know.  Um.  Destiny.  Something like
that."

   "Look, Richard."  Mary shook her head.  "This isn't really something
you should be messing around with."

   "Why?"

   "It's not safe."

   "What makes you so qualified to do it, then?"

   "I don't exactly have a choice."

   "But.  Um.  I do.  And I want to.  I did it for you, Mary.  I--"

   "Stop."  She held up one hand.  "I don't know what thing is, but it's
obviously messing with you.  I'll get up, we'll get it away from you,
and figure this out.  Okay?"

   Richard stopped in mid-word, his mouth working aimlessly.  "Um.  I.
I mean.  You know."

   "Richard?"

   His voice dropped to a whisper.  "I wanted to do this the right way."

   Richard's hand closed tightly around the hilt, and he closed his
eyes.  When he opened them again, they were empty pools as black as the
pits of space.

   He reached forward, and Mary was ready for him -- a bolt of white-hot
energy hit him in the chest and dissipated like a puff of steam.  This
barely had time to register before he leaned over her, putting one hand
on each of her shoulders and pressing his lips against hers.  She didn't
even have time to breathe beforehand, so she gasped for air when he
finally broke away.  Her shoulders jerked, but his grip kept them
tightly against the hardwood floor.  Richard had been stronger than her
before, but not like this -- this was something more than human.

   "What..."  She got the word out before he shifted one of his arms
across her neck, not pressing down but merely holding her to the floor.

   "_I_am_za'Tsara'Vor._"

   He moved his other hand down, slipping it under the T-shirt she wore
to bed and trailing it slowly upwards.  His fingers touched her skin
lightly, raising goosebumps, and Mary shivered involuntarily.  She
jerked again, and a hundred fingers of air plucked at Richard from all
directions.  He didn't even pause.  His hands reached her breast,
enfolding it gently.  He bent down to kiss her again, and this time Mary
responded in kind.

   When he pulled his head back, the black had cleared from his eyes.
Richard blinked.

   "Mary?"

   That was opening enough.  She rolled to one side, throwing off his
suddenly weakened grip, and with her trailing hand yanked the sword at
his side out of its scabbard.  The metal gleamed darkly, as though
coated with oil, and touching the black-wrapped hilt was almost a
physical impact.  She could feel it, the power of it.

   Richard rose to his feet, clutching at the empty scabbard.  Mary
didn't give him a chance to move -- white light filled the room and he
burned where he stood, engulfed in a cylinder of super-hot gas.  All
that was left was a burned circle in the wood -- not even dust.

   Mary sank to her knees, still clutching the hilt.

   "_Oh,_my_God_..."

 

   Ayre frowned at the viewscreen, and Tsuiren leaned forward.

   "What the hell's going on?"  The pure white sphere the demon had
generated was starting to flicker.

   "I'm not sure."  Ayre twisted his hand through a half-turn and stared
at the twisted skeins of the magical field.  "We're getting some kind of
resonance.  Something from the outside is reacting strongly."

   "That shouldn't be possible."

   "I know."  Ayre closed his hand into a fist. 

 

   Resonance.  Shoved behind a bookcase in Mary's attic, the dark sword
started to pulse in its sheath, radiance rising and falling in time with
the distant crackle of the demon's magic.

 

   Mary-of-the-dream clutched the sword-hilt, felt the power rip through
her mind.  She could have anything, be anything, do anything, live
forever.  Richard seared to a crisp behind her eyes, mouth open in a
soundless scream.  Mary, already on her knees, threw back her head and
howled in agony.

 

   The scream bounced off the walls of the train station, the first
sound since the demon had activated its power.  The sphere of white
light shifted, crackled, and shattered into a thousand shards under the
reflected power of the dark sword.

 

   The dream faded as Mary opened her hand, an the last sound she heard
was the clatter as za'Tsara'Vor hit the floor--

 

   Mary opened her eyes.  The demon hung in the air, its arms spread
wide, long hair blown in a phantom wind but now frozen in place.  It was
slow to recover, slow to react, its attention still focused on its other
prisoners.  Mary tossed her ice-sword forward, letting the currents of
the air pick it out of her grasp and whip it into the demon's chest as
fast as an arrow.  The moment strained, sheared with a sound like a
finger on a wineglass, and shattered.  The demon crumpled like something
made of paper, folded in on itself, and was gone.

 

   Ayre unclenched his hand, slowly, and his lips twisted into a frown.


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