Chapter Twenty-Five

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I froze, literally midstep. “Excuse me,” I said, not turning back towards him. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me.” Caleb still sounded gentle, and he sounded so very tired.

“Yes, but I don’t think what I heard can possibly be what you meant to say.” I sounded, at least to myself, blank in a way that never meant good things with me. “Not unless you’ve read too many novels and picked up a drug habit lately.”

“Kyoko,” he said, sighing. “You are an absolutely terrible liar. We both know it. So can we please just accept that you aren’t going to be able to bluff your way out of this and move on with the conversation?”

I hesitated, seriously considering just continuing to walk away. But at the end of the day, I simply couldn’t afford to risk it. If Caleb had already caught on, I’d fucked up badly, which was not implausible but certainly was a problem. I had to know what conclusions he’d reached and what he intended to do with them. And, well. Depending on the answers to those questions, I’d have to respond in one way or another.

I was hoping my response wouldn’t have to end with him dying. It was one thing to have a shitty ex killed after he decided to be both an asshole and an idiot on a nearly incomprehensible scale. I’d much rather not do the same with someone who was, all things considered, a pretty decent person. But I was aware it was a distinct possibility, depending on exactly what Caleb meant and what he was planning to do with that information.

And besides. He wasn’t wrong. I was not a great liar, at least not in this way. I could conceal things, I could put on an act, but masking emotional reactions from people who knew how to see them in me was…well. There were reasons I always lost at liar’s dice against my friends, and not all of those reasons boiled down to “Saori is absurdly good at cheating”.

“Sure,” I said. “Why not.” I turned and went back to the table, with one hand on the knife in my pocket. I doubted I would need it; even if I did need to kill Caleb, and even if for some insane reason it was best to do it here rather than wait for a less public opportunity, and even if he somehow put up enough of a fight I needed to think about weapons, I’d be better off just calling Thorn. But the feeling of it, the weight in my grip, was reassuring.

“Thank you. Now. I think you maybe owe me an explanation. Yes?”

I sighed. “Maybe. You’re probably better off without it, but apparently it’s a little late for that.”

“Just a touch,” he said, in a very dry tone. That tone, in itself, told me quite a bit about what he was thinking.

“How long?” I asked idly.

He shrugged. “A few years. Strong suspicions for at least five, but I’ve only been sure for two or three.”

I paused and stared. “Five years? And you never mentioned it?”

“It seemed polite to wait for you to tell me on your own.” Caleb smiled a little, though it still mostly looked old and tired. “But at this point it doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen, so here we are.”

“Fuck’s sake. Ugh.” I sighed. “I kinda botched this one, huh?”

“Does seem that way, yes. I’m guessing there are reasons you don’t want people to know.”

I snorted. “To put it mildly. Not sure where to start, though, honestly. Never really done this.”

“Done what?”

I gestured vaguely. “This conversation. Explaining things to someone who has no context. I guess I should start by asking what you’ve figured out already.”

“Not a lot,” Caleb admitted. “The fact that you haven’t aged a day in fifteen years is pretty obvious. I’ve picked up on some other oddities. But it’s hard to find information, and I don’t know how much of what I’ve heard to trust.”

“Yeah, well. There are reasons nobody talks about this stuff.” I paused. “On which note, and I cannot stress this enough: Don’t talk about this stuff. Very bad things will happen if you do. That’s not a threat, to be clear, more just a warning.”

“I do have some practice with keeping information confidential, given my profession.” He sounded a little amused now.

I laughed, though it came out sharp and bitter. “I am aware. But the consequences if you spill someone’s secrets in my world are…different. And that’s particularly the case when you’re talking to vanilla humans, hence why I haven’t.”

“This conversation poses a risk to you, then.”

I shrugged. “Not directly, not quite. Telling individuals is one thing. Telling society as a whole is quite another. If you try to go to the news or whatever, I might survive, or I might not. You…would be very lucky if all that happens is you die.”

“They wouldn’t believe it anyway. But I take your point.”

“Good. Okay, uh, where to start.” I was quiet for a moment, thinking.

This was, honestly, almost a worst-case scenario for me. Caleb had clearly figured out exactly enough to get himself into serious trouble, but not enough to have any fucking idea how to avoid it. Worse, he knew this about and because of me, which meant that he was liable to get me into serious trouble as well.

“Maybe with what you are? Like I said, I know the answer isn’t human, but very few details beyond that.”

“Right,” I said. “I’m…ugh. Explaining from scratch is such a mess, and I don’t have that much time right now. This was supposed to be a short talk, I have things going on tonight that I can’t miss.” I paused. “Also, I shouldn’t stay here too long. Standing still is a pretty terrible idea for me at the moment, for a whole bunch of reasons. So any explanation right now will be necessarily brief.”

“Understood. Should we go somewhere less public?”

“Nah. Nobody’s sitting close enough to hear, there are no cameras with a good view, and I don’t trust you enough to go somewhere alone with you. No offense, just kinda…I’m up to five assassination attempts in the past week, and it has me a bit twitchy.”

Caleb paused. “That’s reasonable, I think. You’re sure you’re okay?”

I snorted. “Of course not. But I definitely do not have time to go into that. So. Short version, a lot of the things you’re used to thinking of as myth or folklore are very much real. They’ve been staying quiet for the past thousand years or so, and while I don’t really know why, I do know that very bad things happen to anyone who breaks that rule. My father’s human, my mother wasn’t, the output is, well, this.” I gestured vaguely as though to indicate a variety of things about myself. I wasn’t sure what all he had noticed, and I would rather not give any more information away thinking he already knew it.

“About what I figured. It’s not a great act, by the way. If you don’t want people to notice, you might want to be more careful.”

“Reasons I don’t spend much time around humans,” I muttered. “I should have known better with you. I mean, I did know better, but I’m kind of a dumbass and too stubborn for my own good.”

“I know, but at least you can admit it.” Caleb was grinning now.

I managed to sulk for about three seconds before I was grinning too. “Jackass.”

“I know, but at least I can admit it.” I snickered, and his grin got a little wider, more satisfied. “I’ve missed this, you know. Actually engaging with you.”

My smile faded fast at that comment. “Yeah,” I said. “I’d apologize for being distant, but frankly it would be more fair to apologize for not doing a better job of it. Vanilla humans who stumble into things like this…don’t tend to fare well. You end up with all the isolation and danger involved, and none of the perks.”

“Maybe so.” Caleb didn’t immediately contradict me, which was somewhat reassuring. It meant he might take me seriously when I told him this stuff was dangerous, and that would make things much easier for all parties involved. “So what happens next?”

“I go somewhere with fewer civilians,” I said dryly. “Before the next bomb goes off. We’ll talk more later, but for now I need you to promise that you won’t discuss the topic with anyone else before that conversation.”

“I already said I wasn’t going to tell anyone.”

I shook my head as I stood up. “No, not good enough. I need you to actually, directly promise me. I can explain why later, but it’s important. Think of it as being a bit like the attorney stuff around confidentiality.”

“Okay,” Caleb said, in a tone that sounded like he was humoring me. “I promise that I won’t discuss anything that you have told me in this conversation with someone other than you before we talk again.”

“Good,” I said, and walked away without saying goodbye.

---

“So how’d it go?” Saori sounded appallingly cheerful. So did the music, which was currently an uptempo ragtime song happily describing the singer’s descent into corruption at the hands, or rather the paws, of a demonic cat.

“Turns out he already knew I’m not really human, has suspected for years and been too polite to tell me,” I said, similarly cheerful. “Also told me I’m a terrible liar, which you already know, and he enabled my hypervigilance enough that I’m starting to wonder whether he has experience with this kind of thing and I just never realized.”

“So what I’m hearing here is ‛not great’,” Saori said dryly, taking a corner sharply enough that even Raincloud felt a little unsettled by it. I thought we might also might now be going the wrong way down a one-way street, but I wasn’t about to open my eyes long enough to check.

“Yeah, not ideal,” I said. “Not quite a disaster, but definitely suboptimal.”

“I look forward to the inevitable escalation,” Saori said, still sounding cheerful. “So, wanna go get ready for the guaranteed disaster tonight?”

“Sure,” I said, and the rest of the drive dissolved into wind and laughter and pulsing drums.

---

We stopped at the Blackbird Cabaret to do the last bits of prep before leaving. There were a few reasons for that. I hadn’t wanted to wear the formal outfit I’d put together to meet with Caleb, for one thing. For another, it allowed for a group hug first, which was nice.

But probably the most significant was that Raincloud needed somewhere to wait. Even if I’d thought that dragging her along was a good idea—which I definitely didn’t, and I tended to think the less attention she was getting from people like this, the better off she was—the invitation had specified one escort. I was guessing even vaguely pushing the bounds of that permission was a terrible idea. This was the safest, and probably the most pleasant, place for her to chill while Saori and I were off being lunatics.

I sat with her for a few minutes while Saori was getting dressed, which she did in another room for some reason. It felt nice, in a way, to sit there and brush her fur out some while she made happy noises. Raincloud was important to me, and I tried to make sure she knew that. I hadn’t spent much time specifically with her over the past few days. Correcting that felt good.

As I was sitting there, I got another question from her. It was somewhat fascinating to me how many she’d had over the past week and change. They were almost the only things she’d even said in words so far, and the curiosity that implied was interesting to me.

In this case, there was a mental impression of Caleb, one that I thought was probably mostly drawn from my own memories, given that Raincloud hadn’t actually seen him. That was probably why it felt somewhat vague. Then another question, in words, simply phrased but undeniably still words. Do you want me to kill him for you?

I sighed, slow and soft. The question was…not unfounded. It was, I knew, the smart choice. Caleb was currently a vulnerability at best and quite possibly actively dangerous to me now. I was pretty sure I could trust him not to hurt me with this, but I’d also been pretty sure he didn’t know what was going on with me, and apparently I’d been wrong about that for years now. The smart thing to do would be to just trim that loose end now, and do it in a way that made sure I wouldn’t need to worry about him again.

No, I replied eventually, feeling tired as I continued to comb out the tangles in her fur. For a few reasons. One, I’d rather not kill him if I don’t have to, and I don’t know for sure that he will be a problem for me. Two, I don’t know what he may have already done with this information. Caleb is a smart guy, he has to know that there are dangers here. He might have set up a deadman’s switch of some kind, and if so he’s had years in which to construct it. If you kill people first and ask questions later, you don’t get answers.

She considered that for a moment, and then I felt a sort of agreement or understanding from her. What will you do if he does turn out to be a problem?

I don’t know, I replied honestly. Too many unknowns, too many possible avenues things might take. It would depend heavily on what kind of problem that is. Even if lethal force does become necessary, though, I wouldn’t ask you to do it unless I have to. All other factors aside, I’d feel weird about it, like I was trying to hide from the responsibility. I try to own the choices I make. And at least for the moment, I don’t think I have to make that choice; getting that promise out of him buys me a lot of safety for the time being.

You think he’ll see it as being that important? Raincloud felt distinctly dubious at that.

Which I couldn’t blame her for, because I was laughing at the notion myself. No, almost certainly not. But the threat Caleb poses is mostly that he’ll make other people want me dead by implicating me in a security breach. As it stands, he’ll be making himself an oathbreaker in the process, and the people I actually would be in danger from do care that much. I think I can spin getting that promise as due diligence, and if I behave appropriately after he breaks his word I’ll be seen as being the wounded party and as having fixed the problem myself, rather than a conspirator in his choices.

The agreement settled out into a sort of contented understanding. I finished brushing her, and then stood up and started getting myself ready for the evening.

---

“You told me to wear something nice.”

Saori looked me up and down. “Yeah,” she said. “You did pretty good, too. I’m impressed, you barely look like a drowned rodent at all.” She was, in fact, openly leering at me, which was probably a good sign.

“Thanks,” I said. I had thought so, but it was nice to have the confirmation. I’d ended up going with something relatively simple. A black sleeveless blouse, on the logic that the tattoos had been made by a master of the art and were appropriately gorgeous, and I was better off relying on his work than my own aesthetic skills. Loose black pants, because a skirt was far too restrictive and I wanted to be able to sprint if I had to run from security or something. Boots for the same reason, though they were at least passably formal. A few pieces of jewelry, silver partly because it was cheaper than gold and mostly because I’d always liked it more, set with emeralds partly because they were cheaper than diamonds and mostly because they complimented my eyes well.

“I’m happy to check your ass out anytime, don’t worry.” She was grinning now.

“Which is great and all, but not what I meant.” I was also staring at her, but in a much less pleased way. “You call that nice?”

“Nope!” the kitsune said cheerfully, starting the car. “No, this is trashy.”

Trashy seemed like a bit of an understatement. She was wearing a tight black T-shirt that had “YOUR GIRLFRIEND WANTS TO SCREW ME AND YOUR BOYFRIEND WANTS TO BE ME” printed on it in neon pink. Her jeans were more patch than original fabric, and she’d somehow managed to replace the dark red streaks in her hair with even more vibrant electric green ones. Technically she was also wearing jewelry, but hers consisted of cheap facial piercings, cheaper bangles, and a spiked leather collar. It was…certainly a striking visual.

“I think I might need to invent new words for that, because you’re far enough into trashy that calling it just ‛trashy’ seems almost criminal,” I said dryly.

“Thanks! That means a lot to me.” She sounded appallingly cheery this evening, really, all around.

“Okay, but why do I have to wear nice things and you get to be trashy?”

“Because I have the charisma and persona to pull it off, and you would just look like you don’t know how to dress yourself.” Saori was smirking. I couldn’t see it, but I could hear it in her voice.

I sighed. But I was just as glad that she had put on harp dubstep at a volume that made conversation impractical, because I had to admit she probably had a point.

The Way was set to open at sunset, at some random spot in the forest just outside the city. It was actually relatively close to Lord Cerdinen’s manor, though thankfully not close enough to make me think he was involved. He might owe me, and he might like me, but as with Silas, relying upon a lord of the Midnight Court for help was…delicate at best. Saori got us there a little early, and then got several hundred imaginary dollars out of me playing gin while we waited.

It was much more dramatic, when the Way did open, than Saori’s portal had led me to expect. Rather than a slow, vague web of magic gradually building until it was visible as a faint heat haze, it happened almost instantly. Exactly as the sun dipped fully behind the horizon, I felt a sudden surge of magic, one that felt as anonymous as the first parts of the portal had, magic without any of the overtones I was used to perceiving. But there was no gradual focusing in this time. The spell formed patterns in an instant, patterns that I was only seeing part of but undeniably patterned. The structures formed, extended in a direction I had no name for, and a moment later, there was an oval of darkness a little taller than I was just…floating in the air.

Looking at it, I had the same odd feeling that I was seeing something extending in a direction I didn’t understand. The opening itself was so thin I thought it might be literally and impossibly two-dimensional, with no width whatsoever; from the side it wasn’t even there. But when I looked into it from the entrance side, there was depth. I could barely tell, because it was all pitch black, but there was a feeling that I was seeing depth perception extending in a direction I had never seen before.

It was freaky, frankly, and I shivered. But Saori was moving with total confidence, and there was no way out but through. I checked that the invitation was secure and accessible, and then stepped forward into the Way.

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